Children Learn What They Live

If a child lives with criticism, he learns to condemn . . .

If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight . . .

If a child lives with fear, he learns to be apprehensive . . .

If a child lives with pity, he learns to feel sorry for himself . . .

If a child lives with ridicule, he learns to be shy . . .

If a child lives with jealousy, he learns what envy is . . .

If a child lives with shame, he learns to feel shame…

BUT

If a child lives with tolerance, he learns to be patient . . .

If a child lives with encouragement, he learns to be confident . . .

If a child lives with praise, he learns to be appreciative . . .

If a child lives with acceptance, he learns to love . . .

If a child lives with approval, he learns to like himself…

If a child lives with recognition, he learns it is good to have a goal…

If a child lives with sharing, he learns about generosity…

If a child lives with honesty, he learns what truth is . . .

If a child lives with fairness, he learns justice . . .

If a child lives with security, he learns to have faith in himself…and those about him . . .

If a child lives with friendliness, he learns the world is a nice place in which to live . . .

If you live with serenity, your child will live with peace of mind…

****

Dear Readers,

How are you teaching your children and grandchildren to live?

Published in: on July 16, 2011 at 3:00 am  Comments (1)  

Hidden Treasure

To this day, if I close my eyes, I can see (and hear) (and smell) my mother clearly as she methodically dressed in the mornings…all the while clarifying for her inquisitive daughter, the reasoning behind each undergarment.

“A proper lady always wears a girdle, garter belt, and stockings,” she would say.

Next, she would reach for the delicate white lace “full slip”…never a half slip…heavens to Betsy no. Then, this is where it gets good…she would choose a spotless linen handkerchief from the top drawer of her Birdseye maple dresser, put an undisclosed sum of folded green paper money in the middle and tie the handkerchief tightly around it. The next step was to pin it securely inside her brassiere…never a “bra.”

“This is a Southern lady’s best kept secret,” she whispered.

After slipping into a sheer flowered summer dress and smoothing her hair one last time, she would carefully reach for her transparent glass perfume bottle adorned with a crystal jeweled dabber cap. Ever so gently, she would dab the sweet-smelling perfume behind each ear and on the inside of each wrist. Always in exactly the same spots. Then she would turn to me and smile.

“You’ll be a grown-up lady soon so I think you should start smelling like one.” And she would dab the perfume in exactly the same spots on me.

Sadly, my mother’s dressing routine was quelled by Alzheimer’s, but we still continued the perfume ritual. And for a brief moment, her eyes reflected that same familiar tenderness as we dabbed the sweet-smelling perfume in all the right places.

Published in: on July 9, 2011 at 3:00 am  Leave a Comment  

Can Watermelons Grow Out of Ears?

My sister, Margaret and our cousin, Sissy ate watermelon all day long. Not because they loved watermelon that much but because they made it a contest…seeing who could spit the seeds the farthest. Oh, I ate my share of cold watermelon too. Only thing, I swallowed more of the seeds than I spit. Margaret and Sissy would have giggling fits watching me. After awhile, it began to get on my nerves. But with me being only four years old, if I wasn’t “winning,” nothing was much fun.

The screech of a large bird of an unknown species temporarily caught my attention. As I watched him circling the sky above me, I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and wished, “Swoop down and grab Margaret and Sissy and leave them on top of a mountain somewhere…please.”

But of course, that didn’t happen. Frowning, I muttered, “Who ever heard of a family picnic reunion? And on the hottest day of the year…ole’ hot steamy July 4th. …and in Texas!”

Suddenly I smelled vanilla…the kind of vanilla that goes into homemade vanilla ice cream. Thoughts of watermelon seeds, uncooperative birds, strange people, and the scorching heat disappeared when I spotted my Aunt Leora heading toward me with a bowl of ice cream.

“Thought you might like this.”

I could only smile and nod my head.

Just when I thought this reunion thing wasn’t really so bad, up walk Margaret and Sissy. “Hey squirt, did you know that if you swallow watermelon seeds, they’ll grow out your ears.”

I fell for it hook, line, and sinker! Suddenly I understood why my mother always warned me, “Don’t swallow the seeds.”

After returning home, I spent a great deal of time in front of the mirror checking out my ears for any signs that watermelon harvest was near. Hey! I was four years old…

Lesson learned?  To this day, I would rather face a firing squad than swallow a watermelon seed.

Published in: on July 2, 2011 at 3:00 am  Leave a Comment  

The “Little” Things

As you might remember, the head of a company survived
911 because he took his son to his first day of kindergarten.

Another fellow was alive because it was
his turn to bring donuts.

One woman was late because her 
alarm clock didn’t go off in time.

One was late because of being stuck on the NJ Turnpike
due to an auto accident.

One of them 
missed his bus.

One spilled food on her clothes and had to take
time to change.

One’s 
car wouldn’t start.

One couldn’t 
get a taxi.
 

The one that struck me most was the man 
who put on a new pair of shoes that morning,
took the various means to get to work,
but before he got there, he developed
a blister on his foot
and stopped at a drugstore to buy a Band-Aid.
That is why he is alive today..

Now when I am
stuck in traffic ,
miss an elevator,
turn back to answer a ringing telephone …
All the little things that annoy me…
I think to myself,
this is exactly where

God wants me to be
at this very moment..

Next time your morning seems to be
going wrong…

You can’t seem to find the car keys,
you hit every traffic light…
Don’t get mad or frustrated;
it may be just that
God is at work watching over you.

****

Dear Readers, may God continue to bless you
with all those annoying little things
and may you remember their possible purpose…

Published in: on June 25, 2011 at 3:00 am  Leave a Comment  

God Won’t Ask…

Published in: on June 18, 2011 at 3:00 am  Leave a Comment  

Things Aren’t Always What They Seem

     Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion’s guest room. Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement.

As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, “Things aren’t always what they seem”

The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife.

After sharing what little food they had the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night’s rest.

When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field.

The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel, “How could you have let this happen? The first man had everything, yet you helped him…but the second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die!”

“Things aren’t always what they seem,” the older angel replied.

The older angel continued, “When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn’t find it.”

“Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife I gave him the cow instead. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

****

Sometimes that is exactly what happens when things don’t turn out the way we think they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every outcome is always to your advantage. You just might not know it until sometime later…

Published in: on June 11, 2011 at 3:00 am  Leave a Comment  

Choctaw Outlaw

Her name was Cynthia Anne Herndon. She was a Choctaw who ran with her two outlaw brothers back in the 1800′s…somewhere in Oklahoma. Although Indian, she wore the traditional dress of a pioneer woman. Only one difference…strapped to her side, hidden underneath the flour-sack dress, was a loaded six-shooter. She was as handy with the pistol as any man and apt to draw it quicker than any man. No one dare provoke her or challenge her position with the gang. She was fierce…like her warrior ancestors.

Black braids intertwined with colored beads framed her amber skin while black penetrating eyes stared a hole right through you. She seldom spoke but when she did, you listened.

Then one day, she up and disappeared never to be seen again. Cynthia Anne Herndon had fallen in with an old worn-out cowpoke, Pinkney Henry Dooley…a most unlikely pair. Nevertheless, it seemed to be a match made in…well, I’m not sure where the match was made…but it endured.

She unstrapped the six-shooter and never packed again. They were married in Comanche County on July 31st, 1872, farmed a little piece of ground, and had babies…in spite of the old cowpoke’s age. (Remind anybody of Abraham?) Let’s see, there were five…Bowie, John Thomas, Willie, Susan, and Mary Addie.

She passed down the Choctaw folklore of her people to her children who passed it down to their children and then on to the third generation…which included me.

Cynthia Anne Herndon Dooley was my great-grandmother.

Published in: on June 4, 2011 at 9:14 am  Leave a Comment  

Queenie, the War Dog

Queenie suddenly stopped in her tracks…motionless…ears erect. The only sound was the excited chirping of the birds in protest of the human intrusion into their world…a world of dense foliage and smothering heat.

The small scouting detail had been dispatched for the sole purpose of exposing any Japanese strongholds on the island. It was a “no brainer” that the troops would be sitting ducks if deployed on an unsecured stretch of beach.

Queenie’s handler, my Uncle Carl, carefully caressed the German Shepherd’s head as he whispered, “What is it Queenie?”

The Sergeant, knowing the seriousness of Queenie’s unrequited stance, signaled for runners to quietly maneuver to the left and right behind the danger zone.

Faces flushed from adrenalin rushes, both runners returned with the same news. “Sub’s, rocket launchers, flamethrowers, some kind of cannon, and even military swords. Sarge, it’s not good.”

Bottom line, because of Queenie’s astute training, the entire Japanese fortress was flushed out…allowing a safe landing on the beach.

Queenie and my uncle somehow got separated when the war ended but my uncle never gave up searching for Queenie. He sent out dozens of letters and made just as many phone calls trying to locate the “unsung heroine.”

Unexpectedly, one day a letter arrived from a little outlying village in the district of Kyushu. Yes, dear readers, that’s a part of Japan.

Long story short, Queenie had somehow ended up with a Japanese farmer and his family who had treated her like a true Queen.

Uncle Carl wasted no time in arranging her safe return to the States.

Mother aptly quoted Proverbs 25: 25:  Like cold water to a weary soul, is good news from a distant land.

Published in: on May 28, 2011 at 3:00 am  Leave a Comment  

We Will Remember…Always

Published in: on May 21, 2011 at 3:00 am  Leave a Comment  

Paid in Full

After living what I felt was a “decent” life, my time on earth came to the end. The first thing I remember is sitting on a bench in the waiting room of what I thought to be a courthouse.

The doors opened and I was instructed to come in and have a seat by the defense table. As I looked around I saw the “prosecutor.”

He was a villainous-looking gent who snarled as he stared at me. He definitely was the most evil person I have ever seen.

I sat down and looked to my left and there sat my Attorney…a kind and gentle-looking man whose appearance seemed so familiar to me. I felt I knew Him.

The corner door flew open and there appeared the Judge in full flowing robes. He commanded an awesome presence as He moved across the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Him.

As He took His seat behind the bench, He said, “Let us begin.”

The prosecutor rose and said, “My name is Satan and I am here to show you why this man belongs in hell.”

He proceeded to tell of lies that I had told, things that I had stolen and in the past when I had cheated others. Satan told of other horrible perversions that were once in my life and the more he spoke, the further down in my seat I sank.

I was so embarrassed I couldn’t look at anyone…especially my own Attorney…as the devil told of sins that even I had completely forgotten about.

As upset as I was at Satan for telling all these things about me, I was equally upset at my Attorney who sat there…silently…not offering any form of defense at all.

I knew I was guilty of those things, but I had done some good in my life…couldn’t that at least equal out part of the harm I’d done?

Satan finished with a fury. “This man belongs in hell, he is guilty of all that I have charged and there is not one person who can prove otherwise.”

When it was His turn, my Attorney first asked if He might approach the bench. The Judge allowed this over the strong objection of Satan. The Judge beckoned my Attorney to come forward.

As He got up and started walking, I was able to see Him in His full splendor and majesty. I realized why He seemed so familiar; this was Jesus representing me, my Lord and Savior.

He stopped at the bench and softly said to the Judge, “Hi, Dad.”

Then He turned to address the court. “Satan is correct in saying that this man has sinned. I won’t deny any of these allegations. And yes, the wages of sin is death, and yes, this man deserves to be punished.”

Jesus took a deep breath. Turning to His Father with outstretched arms, He proclaimed, “However, I died on the cross so that this person might have eternal life. He has accepted Me as his Lord and Savior, so he is Mine.”

My Lord continued. “His name is written in the Book of Life and no one can snatch him from Me. Satan still does not understand yet that this man is not to be given justice, but rather mercy.”

As Jesus sat down, He paused and looked at His Father. “There is nothing else that needs to be done. I’ve done it all.”

The Judge lifted His mighty hand and slammed the gavel down. The following words bellowed from His lips…

    “This man is free.
The penalty for him has already been paid in full.
Case dismissed!”

As my Lord led me away, I could hear Satan ranting and raving, “I won’t give up, I will win the next one.”

I asked Jesus as He gave me my instructions where to go next, “Have you ever lost a case?”

Christ lovingly smiled. “Everyone who has come to Me and asked Me to represent them has received the same verdict as you…

Paid In Full!

Published in: on May 14, 2011 at 3:00 am  Leave a Comment  
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