One night, a man had a dream. He dreamt he was walking along the beach with the LORD. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him, and the other to the LORD.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life, there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times of his life.
This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about it: "LORD, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why, when I needed you most, you would leave me."
The LORD replied: "My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."
Unknown
Sep 30, 2007
Sep 29, 2007
Do you dare
Dare to Fail
The glory of man is not in never experiencing failure but in rising every time he falls
Dare to Try
He who has never failed has never actually tried doing anything with all his heart and soul.
Dare to Dream
Dreams can remain mere illusions until they are transformed into reality upon steadfast action
History has shown that people who think out of the ordinary and whom are usually perceived as "unrealistic", "unconventional", "dreamers", "mad" are the very ones who helped us to achieve tremendous breakthroughs in technology, innovated new products, promoted higher living standards and break records in sports.
It is only when one dare to dream, dare to act, and dare to do things out of the ordinary, can one achieve extraordinary results.
The glory of man is not in never experiencing failure but in rising every time he falls
Dare to Try
He who has never failed has never actually tried doing anything with all his heart and soul.
Dare to Dream
Dreams can remain mere illusions until they are transformed into reality upon steadfast action
History has shown that people who think out of the ordinary and whom are usually perceived as "unrealistic", "unconventional", "dreamers", "mad" are the very ones who helped us to achieve tremendous breakthroughs in technology, innovated new products, promoted higher living standards and break records in sports.
It is only when one dare to dream, dare to act, and dare to do things out of the ordinary, can one achieve extraordinary results.
Confession
A priest was being honored at his retirement dinner after 25 years in the parish. A leading local politician and member of the congregation was chosen to make the presentation and give a little speech at the dinner. He was delayed, so the priest decided to say his own few words while they waited.
"I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set and, when questioned by the police, was able to lie his way out of it. He had stolen money from his parents, embezzled from his employer, had an affair with his boss' wife and taken illegal drugs. I was appalled, but as the days went on, I knew that my people were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people."
Just as the priest finished his talk, the politician arrived full of apologies for being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and gave his talk.
"I'll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived," said the politician. "In fact, I had the honor of being the first person to go to him for confession."
"I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set and, when questioned by the police, was able to lie his way out of it. He had stolen money from his parents, embezzled from his employer, had an affair with his boss' wife and taken illegal drugs. I was appalled, but as the days went on, I knew that my people were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people."
Just as the priest finished his talk, the politician arrived full of apologies for being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and gave his talk.
"I'll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived," said the politician. "In fact, I had the honor of being the first person to go to him for confession."
Sep 27, 2007
Extreme vans in Japan
Extreme vans in Japan ... Where to find in Singapore hah??
Mod until like that, sure kenna summon by TP and LTA lor ... Hahaha :D
Sep 15, 2007
Making a difference
While walking along a beach, a man saw in the distance what looked like someone dancing. As he approached, he realized that it was actually a young man, running, leaning down, picking something up and then gently throwing it far into the ocean.
As he got closer, he saw thousands of starfish that the tide had washed up onto the beach. Unable to return to the ocean during low tide, the starfish were dying. The young man was picking up the starfish one by one and throwing them back into the ocean.
After watching the seemingly futile effort, he said to the young man, "There must be thousands of starfish on this beach. It would be impossible for you to get to all of them. There are simply too many. You can't possibly save enough to make a difference."
The young man smiled as he continued to pick up another starfish and toss it back into the ocean.
"Well, it made a difference to that one," he replied.
The older man shook his head at the impossible optimism of the young man, and then turned away and walked home.
That night, he sat for a long time, thinking of the young man, and determined that the young man was really affecting the world and taking action to make a difference. Something that the older man would like to do. That night he slept fitfully. In the morning, he awoke, went down to the beach and found the young man again. Then together, they went along the beach shore tossing starfish back into the ocean.
-- Author Unknown
As he got closer, he saw thousands of starfish that the tide had washed up onto the beach. Unable to return to the ocean during low tide, the starfish were dying. The young man was picking up the starfish one by one and throwing them back into the ocean.
After watching the seemingly futile effort, he said to the young man, "There must be thousands of starfish on this beach. It would be impossible for you to get to all of them. There are simply too many. You can't possibly save enough to make a difference."
The young man smiled as he continued to pick up another starfish and toss it back into the ocean.
"Well, it made a difference to that one," he replied.
The older man shook his head at the impossible optimism of the young man, and then turned away and walked home.
That night, he sat for a long time, thinking of the young man, and determined that the young man was really affecting the world and taking action to make a difference. Something that the older man would like to do. That night he slept fitfully. In the morning, he awoke, went down to the beach and found the young man again. Then together, they went along the beach shore tossing starfish back into the ocean.
-- Author Unknown
Sep 13, 2007
Blessed by Simplicity
This is a simple little story with a simple meaning, but it has a very powerful message.
I recently started working part-time at a discount store. I have had the opportunity to observe customers from all walks of life. Even though the store is a "discount" store, shoppers range from well-to-do to the plain and simple whose economic needs probably necessitate their shopping at discount stores. Of course, I already knew that having a bright loving persona isn’t by any means related to how affluent a person is, and that is what this little story is about.
This week, a special blessing was sent my way! Three very special customers came in together. They were three young ladies and maybe I should label them as angels in disguise. I was standing behind the counter as they entered and realized that one of the ladies was the caregiver and that she had brought the other two "mentally challenged" ladies in to shop. I believe that’s the modern term for what society formerly called "mentally retarded." Webster’s Dictionary defines the word "retarded" as "slow or delayed." What I am about to describe certainly reflects neither.
As the ladies shopped all around the store, they eventually came up to the counter where I was standing to look at the ring display. One of the ladies had her arms overflowing with little toys and other items. I think most of it was for friends back at the group home where they lived. She was naming what she had chosen special for each friend. She then carefully picked out a ring, which she said she was buying for her boyfriend. The other lady tried on different rings and then decided upon one for herself, with the guidance of the caregiver, who was so kind and patient with them.
As they were standing at the counter looking at the rings, I started talking to them, and one of the ladies formally introduced me to the caregiver and to her other friend. She put her arms around each one, hugged them up close to her and said, "These are my friends," and told me their names. Then she looked direct at me, smiled, and said, "You are two of a kind!" I smiled back at her in silence, not knowing what she meant by that! I have since thought about those words and I’m not totally sure of what she meant by them, but I hope that in her own special way, perhaps she sensed a friendly loving spirit within me, as that of her friends! That one simple little sentence blessed my heart that day, and made me feel very special!
I saw the joy of simplicity that these ladies were savoring, and I felt the happiness they were sharing together as friends. As they paid for their purchases with their own money, I could sense their feeling of satisfaction of being independent in choosing what they wanted to buy. They seemed so happy and content with what they had chosen. No debating over whether they should do this or that, and no discussing or worrying whether their friends would be happy with the gifts chosen just for them. I’m sure they had no doubt that their friends would appreciate what they had bought for them, because it was coming from their hearts.
Just a simple day, a simple shopping spree, but it made me realize that these young ladies were living life to the fullest! I believe they were truly angels in disguise sent just for me that day. They came to make me more aware of how complicated I tend to make my own life sometimes, and that I need to slow down, look around, and savor the simple joys of life. It’s right there under our noses, if only we will slow down enough to see it. These young ladies didn’t have a lot of worldly possessions or any of the things that we think we have to have in order to enjoy life. They were just simply enjoying the pathway that God had chosen for their lives, to the best of their abilities. How many of us can honestly say that we do that?
It’s the simple things in life that matter the most. Sometimes we get so busy that we forget that. We get so caught up in the rat race of life that we forget how our lives can be so richly Blessed by Simplicity!
--Kathy S. Norris
I recently started working part-time at a discount store. I have had the opportunity to observe customers from all walks of life. Even though the store is a "discount" store, shoppers range from well-to-do to the plain and simple whose economic needs probably necessitate their shopping at discount stores. Of course, I already knew that having a bright loving persona isn’t by any means related to how affluent a person is, and that is what this little story is about.
This week, a special blessing was sent my way! Three very special customers came in together. They were three young ladies and maybe I should label them as angels in disguise. I was standing behind the counter as they entered and realized that one of the ladies was the caregiver and that she had brought the other two "mentally challenged" ladies in to shop. I believe that’s the modern term for what society formerly called "mentally retarded." Webster’s Dictionary defines the word "retarded" as "slow or delayed." What I am about to describe certainly reflects neither.
As the ladies shopped all around the store, they eventually came up to the counter where I was standing to look at the ring display. One of the ladies had her arms overflowing with little toys and other items. I think most of it was for friends back at the group home where they lived. She was naming what she had chosen special for each friend. She then carefully picked out a ring, which she said she was buying for her boyfriend. The other lady tried on different rings and then decided upon one for herself, with the guidance of the caregiver, who was so kind and patient with them.
As they were standing at the counter looking at the rings, I started talking to them, and one of the ladies formally introduced me to the caregiver and to her other friend. She put her arms around each one, hugged them up close to her and said, "These are my friends," and told me their names. Then she looked direct at me, smiled, and said, "You are two of a kind!" I smiled back at her in silence, not knowing what she meant by that! I have since thought about those words and I’m not totally sure of what she meant by them, but I hope that in her own special way, perhaps she sensed a friendly loving spirit within me, as that of her friends! That one simple little sentence blessed my heart that day, and made me feel very special!
I saw the joy of simplicity that these ladies were savoring, and I felt the happiness they were sharing together as friends. As they paid for their purchases with their own money, I could sense their feeling of satisfaction of being independent in choosing what they wanted to buy. They seemed so happy and content with what they had chosen. No debating over whether they should do this or that, and no discussing or worrying whether their friends would be happy with the gifts chosen just for them. I’m sure they had no doubt that their friends would appreciate what they had bought for them, because it was coming from their hearts.
Just a simple day, a simple shopping spree, but it made me realize that these young ladies were living life to the fullest! I believe they were truly angels in disguise sent just for me that day. They came to make me more aware of how complicated I tend to make my own life sometimes, and that I need to slow down, look around, and savor the simple joys of life. It’s right there under our noses, if only we will slow down enough to see it. These young ladies didn’t have a lot of worldly possessions or any of the things that we think we have to have in order to enjoy life. They were just simply enjoying the pathway that God had chosen for their lives, to the best of their abilities. How many of us can honestly say that we do that?
It’s the simple things in life that matter the most. Sometimes we get so busy that we forget that. We get so caught up in the rat race of life that we forget how our lives can be so richly Blessed by Simplicity!
--Kathy S. Norris
Sep 12, 2007
Simply amazing
Wow ... How did he do it? Simply amazing ... This guy would never run out of food to eat :)
Sep 11, 2007
The Bamboo and the Fern
One day I decided to quit ... I quit my job, my relationship, my spirituality. I wanted to quit my life. I went to the woods to have one last talk with God.
"God", I said. "Can you give me one good reason not to quit?"
His answer surprised me. "Look around," he said. "Do you see the fern and the bamboo?"
"Yes", I replied.
"When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them. I gave them light. I gave them water. The fern quickly grew from the earth. Its brilliant green covered the floor. Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.
In the second year the Fern grew more vibrant and plentiful. And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.In the third year, there was still nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit.
In the fourth year, again, there was nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit.
Then in the fifth year a tiny sprout emerged from the earth. Compared to the fern it was seemingly small and insignificant.
But just 6 months later the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall. It had spent the five years growing roots. Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive."
He then said to me, "Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots. I would not quit on the bamboo. I will never quit on you. Don't compare
yourself to others.
The bamboo had a different purpose than the fern, yet, they both make the forest beautiful. Your time will come and you will rise high!"
Good days give you happiness. Bad days give you experiences. Both are essential to life, so keep going.
"God", I said. "Can you give me one good reason not to quit?"
His answer surprised me. "Look around," he said. "Do you see the fern and the bamboo?"
"Yes", I replied.
"When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them. I gave them light. I gave them water. The fern quickly grew from the earth. Its brilliant green covered the floor. Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.
In the second year the Fern grew more vibrant and plentiful. And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.In the third year, there was still nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit.
In the fourth year, again, there was nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit.
Then in the fifth year a tiny sprout emerged from the earth. Compared to the fern it was seemingly small and insignificant.
But just 6 months later the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall. It had spent the five years growing roots. Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive."
He then said to me, "Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots. I would not quit on the bamboo. I will never quit on you. Don't compare
yourself to others.
The bamboo had a different purpose than the fern, yet, they both make the forest beautiful. Your time will come and you will rise high!"
Good days give you happiness. Bad days give you experiences. Both are essential to life, so keep going.
Real life Transformer
You can only see Transformers robots in cartoon or movie only ... That is until now ... In Japan, someone has made a real life Transformer robot ... Wow!!
Sep 10, 2007
Your Actions Do Count
One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class walking home from school. His name was Kyle and it looked like he was carrying all of his books.
I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him.
He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him, so I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, I saw a tear in his eye.
As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."
He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!"
There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.
I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived.
As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now.
I would have never hung out with a private school kid before, but we talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books.
He turned out to be a pretty cool kid.
I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends and he said, "Yes!"
We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.
Monday morning came and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again.
I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!"
He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends.
When we were seniors, we began to think about college.
Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke.
I knew that we would always be friends and the miles would never be a problem.
He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class and I always teased him about being a nerd.
He also had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.
On graduation day, I saw Kyle.
He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him.
Boy, sometimes I was jealous and today was one of those days.
I could see that he was nervous about his speech, so I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!"
He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began.
"Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach, but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met.
He had planned to kill himself over the weekend.
He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home.
He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.
"Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment.
I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile.
Not until that moment did I realize its depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions.
With one small gesture, you can change a person's life.
For better or for worse.
--Unknown
I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him.
He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him, so I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, I saw a tear in his eye.
As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."
He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!"
There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.
I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived.
As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now.
I would have never hung out with a private school kid before, but we talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books.
He turned out to be a pretty cool kid.
I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends and he said, "Yes!"
We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.
Monday morning came and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again.
I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!"
He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends.
When we were seniors, we began to think about college.
Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke.
I knew that we would always be friends and the miles would never be a problem.
He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class and I always teased him about being a nerd.
He also had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.
On graduation day, I saw Kyle.
He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him.
Boy, sometimes I was jealous and today was one of those days.
I could see that he was nervous about his speech, so I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!"
He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began.
"Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach, but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met.
He had planned to kill himself over the weekend.
He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home.
He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.
"Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment.
I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile.
Not until that moment did I realize its depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions.
With one small gesture, you can change a person's life.
For better or for worse.
--Unknown
Sep 9, 2007
Singapore Dreaming
Watched this movie a couple of months back.
I can empathise with all the characters and it really shows us the reality of life in Singapore ... chasing after 5Cs and paper qualifications ... strike Toto and win 2 million $ ... father dies and family fight over money ... a fitful ending ... It is indeed "a poignant, yet darkly humorous story about a typical Singaporean family coming to grips with their aspirations. It weaves a layered and moving tale about a family dealing with loss, ambition and the search for what really matters in life."
If you did not manage to catch the movie in cinemas, i think can go and buy the DVD now.
What are you dreaming of? What really matters to you in life? Money, career, family or ...
I can empathise with all the characters and it really shows us the reality of life in Singapore ... chasing after 5Cs and paper qualifications ... strike Toto and win 2 million $ ... father dies and family fight over money ... a fitful ending ... It is indeed "a poignant, yet darkly humorous story about a typical Singaporean family coming to grips with their aspirations. It weaves a layered and moving tale about a family dealing with loss, ambition and the search for what really matters in life."
If you did not manage to catch the movie in cinemas, i think can go and buy the DVD now.
What are you dreaming of? What really matters to you in life? Money, career, family or ...
Teddy
As she stood in front of her fifth grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold Xs and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners. He is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself.
She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my mom used to."
After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.
The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."
Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold Xs and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners. He is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself.
She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my mom used to."
After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.
The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."
Sep 8, 2007
The eye of God
You may have seen this before ... This is a picture NASA took with the hubble telescope, called "The Eye of God". This kind of event occurs once in 3000 years.
Blogging is addictive
Wake up early today and couldn't resist posting something here ... Oh my, blogging is so addictive ... Hahaha ... maybe just for now lah.
Talking about addiction, i read an article before ... Nowadays, there is a way to camouflage glue sniffing, without attracting attention ... Wait, let me see if i can find the article ... Ah, here it is:
Coke can camouflage
Kids avoid detection by sniffing glue out of drink cans and bottles; social workers are seeing more teen abusers
By Jessica Lim and Jamie Ee Wen Wei
SOME teens who put a soft drink can to their lips may not be gulping, but sniffing - glue, that is.
The can is the new method of camouflaging the deadly habit.
Glue-sniffing seems to have made more headlines recently, despite figures from the Central Narcotics Bureau showing an average of 160 inhalant abusers caught a year between 2001 and 2005. It did not have more recent figures.
The small numbers suggest that what used to be a scourge in 1987, when arrest figures hit over 1,000, has been beaten down.
But social workers and counsellors say that recently, they have been dealing with more glue-sniffing youngsters.
A 14-year-old girl who drowned in a canal in western Singapore in April was discovered with chemicals in her blood which suggested she had been glue-sniffing before she died.
The coroner ruled that the chemicals did not contribute to her death, but noted that glue-sniffing can cause headaches, dizziness and clumsiness.
Teen Challenge executive director Sam Kuna said that in the past six months, he has received about five calls from parents whose children are glue-sniffing.
Last year, he did not get a single call.
'Glue-sniffing was associated with school dropouts or youth-at-risk; now, even school-going kids with intact families are experimenting with it,' he said.
Pastor Andrew Choo of Andrew and Grace Home said that all 40 of the girls in the home had tried glue-sniffing. Just two weeks ago, he received two new cases of teenage girls with glue-sniffing problems.
'In more serious cases, we put them through cold turkey,' he said.
Teen glue-sniffers told The Sunday Times they do it for two reasons: It is a social activity, and it is cheap.
A 100ml tin of extra-strength wood glue - commonly used by abusers - costs about $2.
So they buy a tube at provision shops where they are readily available, squeeze contents into a receptacle, then in groups of four or five, get high.
They do it along staircases of HDB flats, on the upper deck of double-decker buses, even in school toilets.
Plastic bags are obvious.
So, they squeeze the glue into cans or plastic bottles, which lets them 'do it any time, even when walking along the road in town'.
What has not changed are the risks: A 'high' still can lead to death.
Counsellors at the Institute of Mental Health (IMH) say glue-sniffers are at high risk of Sudden Sniffing Death Syndrome, caused by cardiac arrest. First-time abusers have died this way.
After a session of repeated inhalations, the heart is irritated and its rhythm becomes abnormal. Death occurs on the spot.
Continued sniffing can damage various organs, including the lungs, heart, liver and kidneys.
Inhalants can also damage the brain and nervous system, causing personality changes, memory loss, learning and balance problems, and visual disturbances.
An 18-year-old who would give his name only as Willy took his first whiff when he was 14, when a few older teens offered it to him.
He felt a burning sensation in his chest and started coughing violently. But by the next day, he had finished a whole tube. Soon, he was using up to three tubes a day, smuggling them into school in his socks.
'I felt high all the time, like I was flying,' he said. 'I also hallucinated and played real-life Counter Strike with my glue-sniffing buddies.'
But substance abusers hit a real low once they stop.
Another teen, a 17-year-old boy who wanted to be identified only as Hong Xiang, said that in between tubes, 'I felt like there was nothing to look forward to. I even felt suicidal and was short-tempered and easily irritable'.
He added that he became 'very blur' and took a long time to answer questions.
Yet he persisted, liking the 'light-headed feeling', until police nabbed him following a tip-off two months later.
They found him on a flight of stairs in an HDB block in Jurong, mumbling incoherently, and checked him into the IMH, then to a boys' home for a year.
Under the Intoxicating Substances Act, it is an offence to sell an intoxicating substance to any person who is likely to misuse it. Offenders can be fined up to $5,000 or imprisoned for up to two years or both.
Shopkeepers are also required to keep a register of all buyers of glue products listed under the Act.
Talking about addiction, i read an article before ... Nowadays, there is a way to camouflage glue sniffing, without attracting attention ... Wait, let me see if i can find the article ... Ah, here it is:
Coke can camouflage
Kids avoid detection by sniffing glue out of drink cans and bottles; social workers are seeing more teen abusers
By Jessica Lim and Jamie Ee Wen Wei
SOME teens who put a soft drink can to their lips may not be gulping, but sniffing - glue, that is.
The can is the new method of camouflaging the deadly habit.
Glue-sniffing seems to have made more headlines recently, despite figures from the Central Narcotics Bureau showing an average of 160 inhalant abusers caught a year between 2001 and 2005. It did not have more recent figures.
The small numbers suggest that what used to be a scourge in 1987, when arrest figures hit over 1,000, has been beaten down.
But social workers and counsellors say that recently, they have been dealing with more glue-sniffing youngsters.
A 14-year-old girl who drowned in a canal in western Singapore in April was discovered with chemicals in her blood which suggested she had been glue-sniffing before she died.
The coroner ruled that the chemicals did not contribute to her death, but noted that glue-sniffing can cause headaches, dizziness and clumsiness.
Teen Challenge executive director Sam Kuna said that in the past six months, he has received about five calls from parents whose children are glue-sniffing.
Last year, he did not get a single call.
'Glue-sniffing was associated with school dropouts or youth-at-risk; now, even school-going kids with intact families are experimenting with it,' he said.
Pastor Andrew Choo of Andrew and Grace Home said that all 40 of the girls in the home had tried glue-sniffing. Just two weeks ago, he received two new cases of teenage girls with glue-sniffing problems.
'In more serious cases, we put them through cold turkey,' he said.
Teen glue-sniffers told The Sunday Times they do it for two reasons: It is a social activity, and it is cheap.
A 100ml tin of extra-strength wood glue - commonly used by abusers - costs about $2.
So they buy a tube at provision shops where they are readily available, squeeze contents into a receptacle, then in groups of four or five, get high.
They do it along staircases of HDB flats, on the upper deck of double-decker buses, even in school toilets.
Plastic bags are obvious.
So, they squeeze the glue into cans or plastic bottles, which lets them 'do it any time, even when walking along the road in town'.
What has not changed are the risks: A 'high' still can lead to death.
Counsellors at the Institute of Mental Health (IMH) say glue-sniffers are at high risk of Sudden Sniffing Death Syndrome, caused by cardiac arrest. First-time abusers have died this way.
After a session of repeated inhalations, the heart is irritated and its rhythm becomes abnormal. Death occurs on the spot.
Continued sniffing can damage various organs, including the lungs, heart, liver and kidneys.
Inhalants can also damage the brain and nervous system, causing personality changes, memory loss, learning and balance problems, and visual disturbances.
An 18-year-old who would give his name only as Willy took his first whiff when he was 14, when a few older teens offered it to him.
He felt a burning sensation in his chest and started coughing violently. But by the next day, he had finished a whole tube. Soon, he was using up to three tubes a day, smuggling them into school in his socks.
'I felt high all the time, like I was flying,' he said. 'I also hallucinated and played real-life Counter Strike with my glue-sniffing buddies.'
But substance abusers hit a real low once they stop.
Another teen, a 17-year-old boy who wanted to be identified only as Hong Xiang, said that in between tubes, 'I felt like there was nothing to look forward to. I even felt suicidal and was short-tempered and easily irritable'.
He added that he became 'very blur' and took a long time to answer questions.
Yet he persisted, liking the 'light-headed feeling', until police nabbed him following a tip-off two months later.
They found him on a flight of stairs in an HDB block in Jurong, mumbling incoherently, and checked him into the IMH, then to a boys' home for a year.
Under the Intoxicating Substances Act, it is an offence to sell an intoxicating substance to any person who is likely to misuse it. Offenders can be fined up to $5,000 or imprisoned for up to two years or both.
Shopkeepers are also required to keep a register of all buyers of glue products listed under the Act.
Shay, the Hero
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question. "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son"?
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, who is physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child."
Then he told the following story.
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play"? Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs, but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible, because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.
The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran toward second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded second base, the right fielder had the ball. He was the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions, so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay!"
Shay reached third base, because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third!"
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.
"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, who is physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child."
Then he told the following story.
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play"? Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs, but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible, because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.
The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran toward second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded second base, the right fielder had the ball. He was the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions, so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay!"
Shay reached third base, because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third!"
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.
"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
Colorful Shades of Gray
Moths are very ugly creatures. At least that is what I always thought until a reliable source told me otherwise. When I was about five or six years old, my brother Joseph and I stayed overnight at our Aunt Linda's house, our favorite relative. She spoke to us like adults, and she always had the best stories.
Joseph was only four years old, and still afraid of the dark, so Aunt Linda left the door open and the hall light on when she tucked us in to bed. Joe couldn't sleep, so he just lay there staring at the ceiling. Just as I dozed off to sleep, he woke me up and asked, "Jennie, what are those ugly things near the light"? (I had always liked that he asked me questions, because I was older and supposed to know the answers. I didn't always know the answers, of course, but I could always pretend I did.) He was pointing to the moths fluttering around the hall light. "They're just moths, go to sleep," I told him.
He wasn't content with that answer, or the moths near his night light, so the next time my Aunt walked by the door he asked her to make the ugly moths go away. When she asked why, he said simply, "Because they're ugly and scary, and I don't like them! "She just laughed, rubbed his head, and said, "Joe just because something is ugly outside doesn't mean it's not beautiful inside. Do you know why moths are brown"? Joe just shook his head.
"Moths are the most beautiful animals in the animal kingdom. At one time, they were more colorful than the butterflies. They have always been helpful, kind, and generous creatures. One day the angels up in heaven were crying. They were sad because it was cloudy and they couldn't look down upon the people on Earth. Their tears fell down to the Earth as rain. The sweet little moths hated to see everyone so sad. They decided to make a rainbow. The moths figured that if they asked their cousins, the butterflies, to help, they could all give up just a little bit of their colors and they could make a beautiful rainbow.
One of the littlest moths flew to ask the queen of the butterflies for help. The butterflies were too vain and selfish to give up any of their colors for neither the people nor the angels. So, the moths decided to try to make the rainbow themselves. They beat their wings very hard and the powder on them formed little clouds that the winds smoothed over like glass. Unfortunately, the rainbow wasn't big enough so the moths kept giving a little more and a little more until the rainbow stretched all the way across the sky. They had given away all their color except brown, which didn't fit into their beautiful rainbow.
Now the once colorful moths were plain and brown. The angels up in heaven saw the rainbow, and became joyous. They smiled and the warmth of their smiles shown down on the Earth as sunshine. The warm sunshine made the people on Earth happy and they smiled, too. Now every time it rains, the baby moths, who still have their colors, spread them across the sky to make more rainbows."
My brother sank off to sleep with that story and hasn't feared moths since. The story my aunt told us had been gathering dust in the back corners of my brain for years, but recently came back to me.
I have a friend named Abigail who always wears gray clothes. She is also one of the most kind and generous people I've ever met. When people ask her why she doesn't wear more colors, she just smiles that smile, and says, "Gray is my color." She knows herself and she doesn't compromise that to appease other people. Some may see her as plain like a moth, but I know that underneath the gray, Abigail is every color of the rainbow.
--Jennie Gratton
Joseph was only four years old, and still afraid of the dark, so Aunt Linda left the door open and the hall light on when she tucked us in to bed. Joe couldn't sleep, so he just lay there staring at the ceiling. Just as I dozed off to sleep, he woke me up and asked, "Jennie, what are those ugly things near the light"? (I had always liked that he asked me questions, because I was older and supposed to know the answers. I didn't always know the answers, of course, but I could always pretend I did.) He was pointing to the moths fluttering around the hall light. "They're just moths, go to sleep," I told him.
He wasn't content with that answer, or the moths near his night light, so the next time my Aunt walked by the door he asked her to make the ugly moths go away. When she asked why, he said simply, "Because they're ugly and scary, and I don't like them! "She just laughed, rubbed his head, and said, "Joe just because something is ugly outside doesn't mean it's not beautiful inside. Do you know why moths are brown"? Joe just shook his head.
"Moths are the most beautiful animals in the animal kingdom. At one time, they were more colorful than the butterflies. They have always been helpful, kind, and generous creatures. One day the angels up in heaven were crying. They were sad because it was cloudy and they couldn't look down upon the people on Earth. Their tears fell down to the Earth as rain. The sweet little moths hated to see everyone so sad. They decided to make a rainbow. The moths figured that if they asked their cousins, the butterflies, to help, they could all give up just a little bit of their colors and they could make a beautiful rainbow.
One of the littlest moths flew to ask the queen of the butterflies for help. The butterflies were too vain and selfish to give up any of their colors for neither the people nor the angels. So, the moths decided to try to make the rainbow themselves. They beat their wings very hard and the powder on them formed little clouds that the winds smoothed over like glass. Unfortunately, the rainbow wasn't big enough so the moths kept giving a little more and a little more until the rainbow stretched all the way across the sky. They had given away all their color except brown, which didn't fit into their beautiful rainbow.
Now the once colorful moths were plain and brown. The angels up in heaven saw the rainbow, and became joyous. They smiled and the warmth of their smiles shown down on the Earth as sunshine. The warm sunshine made the people on Earth happy and they smiled, too. Now every time it rains, the baby moths, who still have their colors, spread them across the sky to make more rainbows."
My brother sank off to sleep with that story and hasn't feared moths since. The story my aunt told us had been gathering dust in the back corners of my brain for years, but recently came back to me.
I have a friend named Abigail who always wears gray clothes. She is also one of the most kind and generous people I've ever met. When people ask her why she doesn't wear more colors, she just smiles that smile, and says, "Gray is my color." She knows herself and she doesn't compromise that to appease other people. Some may see her as plain like a moth, but I know that underneath the gray, Abigail is every color of the rainbow.
--Jennie Gratton
PDF files can talk
Did you know???
You can listen to a PDF file instead of reading with Adobe Reader 7 or 6, and the short cut is:
Ctrl + shift + b - to hear the entire Document
Ctrl + shift + v - to hear the page
Ctrl + shift + c - to resume
Ctrl + shift + e - to stop
Open any PDF File and test ... unbelievable ... amazing
You can listen to a PDF file instead of reading with Adobe Reader 7 or 6, and the short cut is:
Ctrl + shift + b - to hear the entire Document
Ctrl + shift + v - to hear the page
Ctrl + shift + c - to resume
Ctrl + shift + e - to stop
Open any PDF File and test ... unbelievable ... amazing
Something To Think About As You Get Older
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached.
"Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion."
He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician.
His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me.
"Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that f ollowed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen, or heard, or done. I thought about the things that she had done, without realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life.
I'm reading more and dusting less.
I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden.
I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings.
I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it.
I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends'.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now.
I'm not sure what my sister would have done, had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing - I'll never know.
It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.
Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savour, not endure.
I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
Unknown author
"Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion."
He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician.
His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me.
"Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that f ollowed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen, or heard, or done. I thought about the things that she had done, without realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life.
I'm reading more and dusting less.
I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden.
I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings.
I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it.
I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends'.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now.
I'm not sure what my sister would have done, had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing - I'll never know.
It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.
Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savour, not endure.
I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
Unknown author
This is funny
This make me laugh ... Hahaha :D
Take a look at it here ... Found the site when browsing through other blogs
Take a look at it here ... Found the site when browsing through other blogs
First post
Testing ... testing ... Ahem ... This is my first post in my first blog!
Huat ah .... Huat ah ... must say this when posting the first post so that my blog will "HUAT ah" in the future ... learnt this from my fengshui master, can also apply to blogging?? Hee hee ... try try lor ... Anyway, she is quite famous in Singapore, our own local Fengshuiqueen ... You guess who, lah!
Haha, but no prizes for guessing it correct :P
Now no need to guess liao cos she got her own blog ;)
Ok, to intro myself first ... I'm Eric, Singaporean Teochew Chinese, going to be 30 this year (maybe already at one-third of my journey in life ... Haha ... PM Lee says Singaporeans' lifespan is increasing, can live to 90 liao ... Aiyo, live so long for what, unless can be fit and healthy, if sick and lie in bed whole day, how ... Haiz ... shake head).
Why i started blogging? ... cos one fine day, i chanced upon Kian Ann's website/blog and after reading through all his posts, i am inspired by him. What he wrote strikes a chord deep inside me. To quote him - "Life is about living your choices."
Yes, i truly agree. Nothing can be more true than that. Everyone of us have our own dreams and aspirations in life. To enjoy life is to be able to live your dreams, be financially free, not having to work to pay the bills, but rather work cos you have the passion and interest in it.
As many of us always think "How nice it would be if i can get a job that really interests me, then i can't wait to wake up every morning and get to work, instead of having to drag myself out of bed on Monday and wishing it's Friday already!". Hahaha ... We laugh but it's true mah ... In reality, how many of us can find that dream job and keep at it for the rest of our life? Hmmm ... makes you wonder hor ... Hee hee hee ;)
Well, you are reading my blog now. What to blog ah? Hmmm ... Anything under the sun lah ... and some inspirational stuff now and then (my blog is Web Inspirations mah, how can dun have inspirational things for you to read ... Hahaha) ... cos most important, once in a while, everyone needs to be inspired. Every little bit counts, so i hope to have a little bit for you here lor.
Enjoy while you are here and if you like, do leave me a comment, no matter who you are or where you are from. Dun be shy, lah :D
And remember to bookmark my blog ... Come visit whenever, wherever you feel like it !!
Cheers :)
Huat ah .... Huat ah ... must say this when posting the first post so that my blog will "HUAT ah" in the future ... learnt this from my fengshui master, can also apply to blogging?? Hee hee ... try try lor ... Anyway, she is quite famous in Singapore, our own local Fengshuiqueen ... You guess who, lah!
Haha, but no prizes for guessing it correct :P
Now no need to guess liao cos she got her own blog ;)
Ok, to intro myself first ... I'm Eric, Singaporean Teochew Chinese, going to be 30 this year (maybe already at one-third of my journey in life ... Haha ... PM Lee says Singaporeans' lifespan is increasing, can live to 90 liao ... Aiyo, live so long for what, unless can be fit and healthy, if sick and lie in bed whole day, how ... Haiz ... shake head).
Why i started blogging? ... cos one fine day, i chanced upon Kian Ann's website/blog and after reading through all his posts, i am inspired by him. What he wrote strikes a chord deep inside me. To quote him - "Life is about living your choices."
Yes, i truly agree. Nothing can be more true than that. Everyone of us have our own dreams and aspirations in life. To enjoy life is to be able to live your dreams, be financially free, not having to work to pay the bills, but rather work cos you have the passion and interest in it.
As many of us always think "How nice it would be if i can get a job that really interests me, then i can't wait to wake up every morning and get to work, instead of having to drag myself out of bed on Monday and wishing it's Friday already!". Hahaha ... We laugh but it's true mah ... In reality, how many of us can find that dream job and keep at it for the rest of our life? Hmmm ... makes you wonder hor ... Hee hee hee ;)
Well, you are reading my blog now. What to blog ah? Hmmm ... Anything under the sun lah ... and some inspirational stuff now and then (my blog is Web Inspirations mah, how can dun have inspirational things for you to read ... Hahaha) ... cos most important, once in a while, everyone needs to be inspired. Every little bit counts, so i hope to have a little bit for you here lor.
Enjoy while you are here and if you like, do leave me a comment, no matter who you are or where you are from. Dun be shy, lah :D
And remember to bookmark my blog ... Come visit whenever, wherever you feel like it !!
Cheers :)
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