Posts Tagged ‘happy’


Posted: June 23, 2012 in STORY
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Long ago in a small, far away village, there was place known as the

House of 1000 Mirrors. A small, happy little dog learned of this place

and decided to visit. When he arrived, he bounced happily up the

stairs to the doorway of the house. He looked through the doorway

with his ears lifted high and his tail wagging as fast as it could. To his

great surprise, he found himself staring at 1000 other happy little

dogs with their tails wagging just as fast as his. He smiled a great

smile, and was answered with 1000 great smiles just as warm and

friendly. As he left the House, he thought to himself, “This is a

wonderful place. I will come back and visit it often.”

In this same village, another little dog, who was not quite as happy as

the first one, decided to visit the house. He slowly climbed the stairs

and hung his head low as he looked into the door. When he saw the

1000 unfriendly looking dogs staring back at him, he growled at them

and was horrified to see 1000 little dogs growling back at him. As he

left, he thought to himself, “That is a horrible place, and I will never go

back there again.”


All the faces in the world are mirrors. What kind of reflections do


you see in the faces of the people you meet?



Once upon a time, there was a large mountainside, where an eagle’s

nest rested. The eagle’s nest contained four large eagle eggs. One

day an earthquake rocked the mountain causing one of the eggs to

roll down the mountain, to a chicken farm, located in the valley

bellow. The chickens knew that they must protect and care for the

eagle’s egg, so an old hen volunteered to nature and raise the large

egg. One day, the egg hatched and a beautiful eagle was born.

Sadly, however, the eagle was raised to be a chicken. Soon, the

eagle believed he was nothing more than a chicken. The eagle loved

his home and family, but his spirit cried out for more. While playing a

game, on the farm one day, the eagle looked to the skies above and

noticed a group of mighty eagles soaring in the skies. “Oh”, the eagle

cried, “I wish I could soar like those birds”. The chickens roared with

laughter, “You can not soar with those birds! You are a chicken and

chickens do not soar”. The eagle continued staring, at his real family

up above, dreaming that he could be with them. Each time, the eagle

would let his dreams be known, he was told it couldn’t be done and

that is what the eagle learned to believe. The eagle, after time,

stopped dreaming and continued to live his life like a chicken. Finally,

after a long life as a chicken, the eagle passed away

Sir Edmund Hillary was the first man to climb Mount Everest. On May

29, 1953 he scaled the highest mountain then known to man-29, 000

feet straight up. He was knighted for his efforts. He even made

American Express card commercials because of it! However, until we

read his book, High Adventure, we don’t understand that Hillary had

to grow into this success. You see, in 1952 he attempted to climb

Mount Everest, but failed. A few weeks later a group in England

asked him to address its members. Hillary walked on stage to a

thunderous applause. The audience was recognizing an attempt at

greatness, but Edmund Hillary saw himself as a failure. He moved

away from the microphone and walked to the edge of the platform. He

made a fist and pointed at a picture of the mountain. He said in a loud

voice, “Mount Everest, you beat me the first time, but I’ll beat you the

next time because you’ve grown all you are going to grow… but I’m

still growing!”


Posted: June 20, 2012 in STORY
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A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20 bill.

In the room of 200, he asked, “Who would like this $20 bill?” Hands

started going up.

He said, “I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do


He proceeded to crumple the dollar bill up. He then asked, “Who still

wants it?” Still the hands were up in the air.

“Well,” he replied, “What if I do this?” And he dropped it on the ground

and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now

all crumpled and dirty.

“Now who still wants it?” Still the hands went into the air.

“My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter

what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not

decrease in value. It was still worth $20.

Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground

into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances

that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no

matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never

lose your value. You are special – Don’t ever forget it.


John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army

uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through

Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew,

but whose face he didn’t, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had

begun thirteen months before in a Florida library.

Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the

words of the book, but with the notes pencilled in the margin. The soft

handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front

of the book, he discovered the previous owner’s name, Miss Hollis


With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York

City. He wrote her a letter introducing him and inviting her to

correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in

World War II.

During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other

through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A

romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she

refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn’t matter what she

looked like. When the day finally came for him to return from Europe,

they scheduled their first meeting – 7:00 PM at the Grand Central

Station in New York.

“You’ll recognize me,” she wrote, “by the red rose I’ll be wearing on

my lapel.” So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose

heart he loved, but whose face he’d never seen.

I’ll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened:

A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her

blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were

blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her

pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward

her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose.

As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. “Going my

way, sailor?” she murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step

closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost

directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had greying hair

tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankle

feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was

walking quickly away.


I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her,

and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly

companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale,

plump face was gentle and sensible; her grey eyes had a warm and

kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn

blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her.

This would not be love, but it would be something precious,

something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had

been and must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted

and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt

choked by the bitterness of my disappointment.

“I’m Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am

so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?”

The woman’s face broadened into a tolerant smile. “I don’t know what

this is about, son,” she answered, “but the young lady in the green

suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat.

And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell

you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street.

She said it was some kind of test!”

It was a very cold winter night! A sparrow had spent two nights out

with only the meagre shelter of a tree. He decided that he couldn’t

survive a third night, so he left the tree to find a better shelter.

As he flew he got colder and colder, until his little wings froze solid

and he fell to the ground.

As he lay there freezing he realised that his end was near and he

prayed for death to come quickly.

Suddenly, in his semiconscious state, he had a feeling of being

enveloped in a warm covering.

He regained consciousness to find that a friendly cow had dropped a

luxurious deposit all over him.

The warmth gave him a new lease of life, and the sparrow’s comfort

made him feel very happy, so he started to sing. A passing pussycat

heard the chirping, located the heap, carefully removed the

excrement to reveal the little sparrow, and promptly ate him up……….


There are three morals to this sad story: –


1. If someone shits on you, they are not necessarily your enemy.

2. If someone gets you out of the shit, they are not necessarily your


3. If you are in the shit and happy – keep your mouth shut.


To state the same facts in a polished manner: –


1. If someone harms you unknowingly, they are not necessarily your


2. If someone tries to help you out, they are not necessarily your


3. Even if you are not in very good condition but you are happy, keep

your mouth shut (don’t cry that I don’t have this and that).

A nurse escorted a tired, anxious young man to the bedside of an

elderly man. “Your son is here,” she whispered to the patient. She

had to repeat the words several times before the patient’s eyes

opened. He was heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart

attack and he dimly saw the young man standing outside the oxygen


He reached out his hand and the young man tightly wrapped his

fingers around it, squeezing a message of encouragement. The nurse

brought a chair next to the bedside. All through the night the young

man sat holding the old mans hand, and offering gentle words of

hope. The dying man said nothing as he held tightly to his son.

As dawn approached, the patient died. The young man placed on the

bed the lifeless hand he had been holding, and then he went to notify

the nurse. While the nurse did what was necessary, the young man

waited. When she had finished her task, the nurse began to say

words of sympathy to the young man.

But he interrupted her. “Who was that man?” He asked.

The startled nurse replied, “I thought he was your father.”

“No, he was not my father,” he answered. “I never saw him before in

my life.”

“Then why didn’t you say something when I took you to him?” asked

the nurse.

He replied, “I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn’t

here. When I realized he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his

son, I knew how much he needed me…”