Two Traveling Angels

“For he will command his angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.” Psalm 91:11-13

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”, she accused. “The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die.”

“Things aren’t always what they seem.”

“When we stayed in the basement of the mansion,” continued the older angel, “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 farmer’s bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead….”

Things aren’t always what they seem.”

THE THIEF WHO LEARNED TO LOVE HIMSELF

“We can only know God well when we know our own sin. And those who have known God without knowing their wretchedness have not glorified Him but have glorified themselves.” ― Blaise Pascal

There was one great priest called Wingate (which means divine protector).  A thief came to him. The thief admired him because he had never seen such a beautiful person, such infinite grace, such contentedness, such peace about him.

The thief asked Wingate: “Is there some possibility of my growing to be like you? But one thing I must make clear to you: I am a thief. And another thing: I cannot leave it, so please don’t make it a condition. I will do whatsoever you say, but I cannot stop being a thief. That I have tried many times–it never works, so I have left the whole sport.  I have accepted my destiny, that I am going to be a thief and remain a thief, so don’t talk about it. From the very beginning let it be clear.”

Wingate said, “Why are you afraid? Who is going to talk about your being a thief?”

The thief said, “But whenever I go to a religious priest, or to anybody religious, they always say, ‘First stop stealing.'”

Wingate laughed and said, “Why should they be concerned? I am not concerned!”

The thief was very happy. He said, “Then it is okay. It seems that now I can become your follower. You are the right priest.”

Wingate accepted him and said, “Now you can go and do whatsoever you like, but on one strict condition.  You have to be constantly aware! Go, break into houses, enter, take things, steal; do whatsoever you like, that is of no concern to me, but do it with full awareness.”

The thief couldn’t understand that he was falling into a trap. He said, “Then everything is okay. I will try.” After three weeks he came back and said, “You are tricky–because if I become aware, I cannot steal. If I steal, awareness disappears. I am in a fix.”

Wingate said, “No more talk about your being a thief and stealing. I am not concerned.  Now, you decide! If you want awareness, then you decide. If you don’t want it, then too you decide.”

The man said…

The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, serenely, divinely aware. Henry Miller

“But now it is difficult. I have tasted awareness a little, and it is so beautiful–I will leave anything, whatsoever you say. Just the other night for the first time I was able to enter the palace of the king. I opened the treasure. I could have become the richest man in the world–but you were following me and I had to be aware. When I became aware, diamonds looked just like stones, ordinary stones. When I lost awareness, the treasure was there. And I waited

"There are many sham diamonds in this life which pass for real, and vice versa".~ William Makepeace Thackeray

and did this many times. I would become aware and I  could not even touch it because the whole thing looked foolish, stupid–just stones, what am I doing?
Losing myself over stones?  But then I would lose awareness; they would become again beautiful, the whole illusion. But finally I decided that they were not worth it.”

LESSON: Become alert to what your actions truly mean to you, others and God. What is beautiful and true will always stand out as diamonds for you. And all the vices will also be revealed; they will make you uneasy and stand out us just stones, not worth your effort. The truth is written in your heart, if you just look inward with awareness!

We are not what we do, what we say, what we think, or even what we feel; which are usually a matter of external conditioning. There is something beyond thought, beyond feeling, beyond speech and beyond action. It is a place of awareness; of consciousness; of truth of what really is: the fearfully and wonderfully made you!

Are you really aware or, are you a person who knows not that he knows not?

The Other Wise Man: adapted from a story by Henry Van Dyke

Following the Star

You know the story of the Three Wise Men of the East and how they traveled from far away to offer their gifts at the manger in Bethlehem. But have you ever heard the story of the Other Wise Man, who also saw the star in its rising?

In this story by Henry Van Dyke we’ll hear how great was the desire of this fourth pilgrim in to come and worship the newborn king. And yet, like so many of us even today, what we hope will happen often takes unexpected turns.

This is the story of Artaban, the other wise man, who lived in a far off country among the mountains of Persia. Artaban was a very wise man who studied the prophecies and the stars to untangle the threads of the mystery of life. He believed the ancient words, “There shall come a star out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel.”

He and the other magi who lived in different cities saw this very star rising now over in the small country of Israel. As they contacted one another about this strange sight, they agreed to meet up together in Babylon and go by caravan to follow this star. It would lead them to the new born king.

Realizing that this was the most important event in the world, Artaban sold all of his earthly possessions. He bought three precious jewels – a brilliant blue sapphire, a vibrantly red ruby and a luminescent pearl. These fine gems he would give as tribute to the King.

Now the home where Artaban lived was a long way from Babylon. So Artaban gathered up his jewels, what provisions he’d need for the long trip, and set off on his fastest horse, Vasda. Onward and onward he pressed, until he arrived, at nightfall many days later beneath the walls of populous Babylon.

Vasda was almost spent, and Artaban would gladly have turned into the city to find rest and refreshment for himself and for her. But he knew he must continue steadily on to meet his waiting comrades. But suddenly Vasda stood still, quivering in every muscle before a dark object. Artaban dismounted. The dim starlight revealed the form of a man lying across the road. With pity Artaban began to minister to the half dead. He gave him water and moistened the sufferer’s brow and mouth. He mingled a remedy which he always carried with him and poured it slowly between the colorless lips. Hour after hour he labored as only a skilful healer of disease can do. At last the man’s strength returned; he sat up and looked about him.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“I am Artaban, a Magi. I am going in search of the one who is to be born King of the Jews, a great Prince and Deliverer of all. I dare not delay any longer for the caravan that has waited for me may depart without me. But see, here is all I have left of bread and wine and a potion of healing herbs.” The Man raised his hand to thank Artaban – and to thank God for this man who saved his life. He asked God to bless Artaban with a safe travel – and that he would find the child in Bethlehem as foretold by the Hebrew prophets.

Artaban and Vasda raced in haste to the Temple of the Seven Spheres. But when they arrived it was close to daybreak. There was no trace of his friends, the other magi. They needed to go without him. Artaban must now follow them across the desert and meet them at the birthplace of the Promised One.

Artaban returned to Babylon, sold his sapphire to buy a train of camels and provision for the onward journey.

On the third day he finally reached his destination – Bethlehem. In great anticipation he began to search for the Holy Child. Yet the streets seemed to be deserted. He could not find his comrades or the child. From the open door of a cottage he heard the sound of a woman’s voice singing softly. He knocked on the door. The young mother invited him in as she cradled her baby to rest. She told him of the strangers from the Far East who had appeared in the village three days ago, and how they said that a star had guided them to the place where Joseph of Nazareth was lodging with his wife and new-born child. They paid reverence to the child and given him many rich gifts.

But the travelers disappeared again as suddenly as they had come. Then the man of Nazareth took the child and his mother, and also fled away secretly. The young mother laid the baby in its cradle, and rose to set food before Artaban – the plain fare of peasants, but willingly offered, and therefore full of refreshment for the soul as well as for the body. Artaban accepted it gratefully and felt a great peace stir in this place.

But suddenly there came the noise of a wild confusion in the streets of the village, a shrieking and wailing of women’s voices, a clashing of swords, and a desperate cry: “The soldiers! The soldiers of Herod! They are killing our children.”

The young mother’s face grew white with terror. She clasped her child to her and crouched motionless in the darkest corner of the room. She covered him with the folds of her robe, lest he should wake and cry.

But Artaban went quickly and stood in the doorway of the house. His broad shoulders filled the portal from side to side. The soldiers came down the street clanging swords. At the sight of the stranger in his imposing dress they hesitated with surprise. The captain of the band approached the threshold to thrust him aside. But Artaban did not stir. His face was calm as though he were watching the stars. His steady eyes held the solider silently for an instant. Artaban said in a low voice, “I am all alone in this place, and I am waiting to give this jewel to the prudent captain who will leave me in peace.”

He showed the ruby, glistening in the hollow of his hand.

The captain was amazed at the splendor of the gem. The pupils of his eyes expanded and the hard lines of greed wrinkled around his lips. He stretched out his hand and took the ruby.

“March on!” he shouted to his men, “There is no child here. The house is empty.”

The clamor and the clang of arms passed down the street. Artaban reentered the cottage. He turned his face to the east and prayed, “God of truth forgive my sin. I have said the thing that is not, to save the life of a child, and now two of my gifts for you are gone. I have spent for man that which was meant for God. Shall I ever be worthy to see the face of the King?”

But the voice of the woman, weeping for joy in the shadow behind him, said very gently, “Because you have saved the life of my little one, may the Lord bless thee and keep thee; the Lord lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee peace.”

For over thirty years Artaban searched and searched for this King, the promised savior of the world. He passed through countries where famine lay heavy upon the land, and the poor were crying for bread. He found none to worship, but many to help. He fed the hungry. Clothed the naked. Healed the sick, and comforted the captive.

Three and thirty years of the life of Artaban passed quickly. He was still a pilgrim and a seeker after the Light. Worn and weary he came for the last time to Jerusalem. It was the season of Passover. The city thronged with strangers. But on this day a singular agitation was visible in the multitude. “What is the cause of all this tumult he asked?”

“We are going,” they answered, “to the place called Golgotha, outside the city walls, where there is to be an execution. Have you not heard what has happened? Two famous robbers are to be crucified, and with them, another, called Jesus of Nazareth. This man has done many wonderful works among the people, so that they love him greatly. But the priests and elders have said that he must die because he gave himself out to be the Son of God, the long awaited Messiah.”

“Is this the King that I’ve been searching for?” Artaban followed the multitude with slow and painful steps toward the outskirts of the city. Just beyond the entrance of the guardhouse a troop of Macedonian soldiers came down the street, dragging a young girl with torn dress and disheveled hair. As the Wise Man paused to look at her with compassion, she broke suddenly from the hands of her tormentors, and threw herself down at his feet.

“Have pity on me,” She cried, “and save me, for the sake of the God of Purity. I am a daughter of a Magi. But my father is dead and I am seized to be sold as a slave. Save me from a life worse than death!”

Artaban trembled. It was the old conflict in his soul, which had come to him in the palm grove in Babylon and in the cottage at Bethlehem, the conflict between the expectation of faith and the impulse of love. Twice the gift which he had consecrated to the Christ child had been drawn to the service of humanity. This was the third trial, the ultimate choice.

Was this his great opportunity, or his last temptation? He could not tell. One thing only was clear in the darkness of his mind. He was the only one who could rescue this helpless girl. He took the pearl that looked so luminous, so radiant. He placed it in the hand of the young woman.

“This is your ransom, daughter! It is the last of my treasures which I kept for the King.”

While he spoke, the darkness of the sky deepened, and shuddering tremors ran through the earth. The wall of the houses rocked to and fro. Stones were loosened and crashed into the street. Dust clouds filled the air. The soldiers fled in terror. One more lingering pulsation of the earthquake quivered throughout the ground. A heavy tile, shaken from the roof, fell and struck the Wise Man on the temple. He lay breathless and pale, with his gray head resting on the young girl’s shoulder. The blood trickled.

As she bent over him, there came a voice through the twilight, very small and still, like music sounding from a distance, in which the notes are clear but the words are lost. The girl turned to see if someone had spoken, but saw no one.

Then the old man’s lips began to move, as if in answer, “Not so, my Lord! For when did I see you hungry and fed you? Or thirsty and gave you drink? When did I see you a stranger and took you in? When did I see you sick or in prison and came unto you? For thirty three years I have looked for you, but I have never seen your face or ministered to you, my good King.”

Artaban ceased and the sweet voice came again. And now the maid heard it say, “Truly I say unto you. Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the least of these, you have done it unto me.”

A calm radiance of wonder and joy lighted the pale face of Artaban like the first ray of dawn on a snowy mountain peak. A long breath of relief exhaled gently from his lips. He knew that his quest was ended. His treasures were accepted after all by the One who came to save the world. The Other Wise Man had found the King!

 

TALE OF TWO SIDES OF ONE MAN

 

 

 

TALE OF TWO SIDES OF ONE MAN

“Nobody's all good or bad, and nobody's all light or dark. Every human being has so many different aspects and facets to them. And there can be something noble and something really dark and dangerous going on in a person all at the same time”. Anna Gunn

One side is going backwards; the other is trying to jump forward.

One side tries to repair what is broken; the other is just trying to get a move on.

One side is prone to depression; the other is filled with hope.
One side sees eternal darkness; the other side sees boundless light.

One side likes to be alone and isolated; the other likes to be the heart of the party.
One tries to hurt him lamenting past mistakes; the other tries to live and learn.

Both sides have one threat in common, an enemy that silently ticks away time: that’s known as the clock. If they can’t coexist and become one, then in this world they are done.
The past will continue to be the present, while the future will become lost.

“The truth is, unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.”  Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience

Three Hairs

You cannot tailor-make the situations in life but you can tailor-make the attitudes to fit those situations. Zig Ziglar

There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head. “Well,” she said, “I think I’ll braid my hair today.” So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head. “H-M-M, ” she said, “I think I’ll part my hair down the middle today.” So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head. “Well,” she said, “Today I’m going to wear my hair in a pony tail.” So she did and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn’t a single hair on her head….

“YEAH!” she exclaimed, “I don’t have to fix my hair today!”
Author unknown.
Reflection Questions

  • List three things in your life that are currently troubling you, then pick one of them. What are 2 ways in which there might be able to positively view the situation you chose?
  • Obviously this story is trying to show us how we can maintain a positive perspective when bad things happen. If you’ve already answered reflection question #1, you’ve found how this is true in your own life as well. What is at least one other important message in this story?
  • From question #1, take one of the two remaining situations that are troubling you. What are some humorous ways that somebody might be able to look at those situations to help ease a bit of the tension?

I hope you’ve enjoyed this story! Have a delightful day 🙂

Bird-Dogging Through Life (When it is not possible to become an eagle)

Next time you find yourself wishing you could be different, just reflect upon the amazing gifts you already have!

Once upon a time there was a little dog who wanted to have a big impact in the world. He was a fast dog with quick wits, and he knew what it took to succeed in life. And though though was very proud of his papa for the way he always rounded up the sheep, this little dog had his sights set even higher.

See, every day the little dog looked up into the sky and saw an amazing eagle soaring above. He noticed how the eagle could go anywhere it wanted, it could dive and swoop as fast as a bullet, and was the pure expression of freedom.

Every day the little dog watched and studied the eagle because he wanted to become an eagle. The little dog already knew how to be courageous, fast, and fearless, just like the eagle. But in order to really live like an eagle, the little dog knew he should learn some new lessons and skills.

So each and every day, the little dog tried to teach himself a new lesson. Here are the lessons he knew he should diligently work on so he could become an eagle:

  • Lesson 1: “I should grow wings with feathers so that I can fly high in the sky.”
  • Lesson 2: “I should sharpen my vision so I can spot my prey from far away.”
  • Lesson 3: “I should be perfectly patient until the right prey is vulnerable to attack.”
  • Lesson 4: “I should sharpen my nails and teeth so I can hold onto my prey.”
  • Lesson 5: “I should live on top of rocks and alone so I can prove my independence.”

After practicing for months and months all alone in the wilderness, the little dog become extremely discouraged. Even though he had become much more patient and independent, he still became depressed and was losing his love for life.

Every time the little dog noticed he had no wings, he got sad. …

When the little dog saw that his vision wasn’t improving, he got sadder…

And when his nails and teeth didn’t get sharper, he became even sadder…

Eventually, the little dog returned home with his tail between his legs. He went to his papa, and the little dog just cried and cried because no matter how hard he tried, he could never become the eagle he felt he should be.

What the little dog didn’t know was that his papa was one of the wisest dogs in the world!

After the little dog had cried all his tears until he had no more, his papa knew it was the right time to share what he knew about the secret to living and loving life:

“Son, I know you had big dreams of being an eagle. Eagles are beautiful, wonderful creatures with amazing qualities we all can admire. You were even able to become more patient and independent like the eagles.

However, what you have come to realize is that no matter how hard you try, you are not an eagle… you are a dog. Telling yourself how you “should” be only results in pain and frustration because you lose sight of your true self… you forget about the amazing, beautiful, admirable qualities you already have!

You have become the best dog you can be, and I am proud of you for going after your dreams with all of your heart. I see how courageous, fast, fearless, patient, and independent you are, and I know many other animals – including dogs and eagles – will look upon you with admiration and a desire to learn how to be more like you.

Remember that you were brought into this world with a special set of unique talents and strengths, and you will find your passion and purpose in this life. Just like a bird can never become a dog, a dog can never become a bird… so next time you find yourself wishing you could be a different kind of animal, just remind yourself to “stop bird-dogging” and then reflect upon the amazing gifts you already have!”

After that, the little dog looked up with new hope in his eyes and slowly trotted out into the field… no longer was he looking at the sky wishing he were an eagle, but rather, he looked directly at the eagle with gratitude for the new qualities he learned that would help him become a more fully-realized and present dog…

He became a dog that truly loves his life.
By Chris Cade

Becoming an Eagle

Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death. Anais Nin

A fable is told about an eagle who thought he was a chicken. When the eagle was very small, he fell from the safety of his nest. A chicken farmer found the eagle, brought him to the farm, and raised him in a chicken coop among his many chickens. The eagle grew up doing what chickens do, living like a chicken, and believing he was a chicken.

A naturalist came to the chicken farm to see if what he had heard about an eagle acting like a chicken was really true. He knew that an eagle is king of the sky. He was surprised to see the eagle strutting around the chicken coop, pecking at the ground, and acting very much like a chicken. The farmer explained to the naturalist that this bird was no longer an eagle. He was now a chicken because he had been trained to be a chicken and he believed that he was a chicken.

The naturalist knew there was more to this great bird than his actions showed as he “pretended” to be a chicken. He was born an eagle and had the heart of an eagle, and nothing could change that. The man lifted the eagle onto the fence surrounding the chicken coop and said, “Eagle, thou art an eagle. Stretch forth thy wings and fly.” The eagle moved slightly, only to look at the man; then he glanced down at his home among the chickens in the chicken coop where he was comfortable. He jumped off the fence and continued doing what chickens do. The farmer was satisfied. “I told you it was a chicken,” he said.

The naturalist returned the next day and tried again to convince the farmer and the eagle that the eagle was born for something greater. He took the eagle to the top of the farmhouse and spoke to him: “Eagle, thou art an eagle. Thou dost belong to the sky and not to the earth. Stretch forth thy wings and fly.” The large bird looked at the man, then again down into the chicken coop. He jumped from the man’s arm onto the roof of the farmhouse.

Knowing what eagles are really about, the naturalist asked the farmer to let him try one more time. He would return the next day and prove that this bird was an eagle. The farmer, convinced otherwise, said, “It is a chicken.”

The naturalist returned the next morning to the chicken farm and took the eagle and the farmer some distance away to the foot of a high mountain. They could not see the farm nor the chicken coop from this new setting. The man held the eagle on his arm and pointed high into the sky where the bright sun was beckoning above. He spoke: “Eagle, thou art an eagle! Thou dost belong to the sky and not to the earth. Stretch forth thy wings and fly.” This time the eagle stared skyward into the bright sun, straightened his large body, and stretched his massive wings. His wings moved, slowly at first, then surely and powerfully. With the mighty screech of an eagle, he flew.
–(In Walk Tall, You’re A Daughter Of God, by Jamie Glenn)

Are there any ways that you see yourself as a barnyard chicken and are not aware of your potential grandeur? You could soar like an eagle. What would that look like for you?

It’s time for you to take that next step and fly!

You never know when one kind act or word of encouragement can change a life forever.” -Zig Ziglar

We can all use a little encouragement from time to time. Especially when we begin to have feelings of self-doubt and/or frustration. If left unchecked, these feelings can get in the way of us achieving our goals and dreams. That encouragement can be as simple as someone saying, “Keep at it,” “You can do it!” Or it can come in the form of a loved one, teacher, or supervisor who gives us room to grow and fly. There have been times in my life when just a word of encouragement, or someone believing in me, thinking “I could do it” made all the difference in the world.

THE CHICKEN AND THE EAGLES

You become what you believe you are; so if you ever dream to become an eagle, follow your dreams, not the words of a chicken.

A long time ago in a remote valley, there lived a farmer. One day he got tired of the daily routine of running the farm and decided to climb the cliffs that brooded above the valley to see what lay beyond.

He climbed all day until he reached a ledge just below the top of the cliff; there, to his amazement was a nest, full of eggs.

Immediately he knew they were eagle’s eggs and, even though he knew it was profoundly un-ecological and almost certainly illegal, he carefully took one and stowed it in his pack; then seeing the sun was low in the sky, he realized it was too late in the day to make the top and slowly began to make his way down the cliff to his farm.

When he got home he put the egg in with the few chickens he kept in the yard. The mother hen was the proudest chicken you ever saw, sitting atop this magnificent egg; and the cockerel couldn’t have been prouder.

Sure enough, some weeks later, from the egg emerged a fine, healthy egret. And as is in the gentle nature of chickens, they didn’t balk at the stranger in their midst and raised the majestic bird as one of their own.

So it was that the eagle grew up with its brother and sister chicks. It learned to do all the things chickens do: it clucked and cackled, scratching in the dirt for grits and worms, flapping its wings furiously,flying just a few feet in the air before crashing down to earth in a pile of dust and feathers.

It believed resolutely and absolutely it was a chicken.

One day, late in its life, the eagle-who-thought-he-was-a-chicken happened to look up at the sky. High overhead,soaring majestically and effortlessly on the thermals with scarcely a single beat of its powerful golden wings, was an eagle!

“What’s that?!”, cried the old eagle in awe. “It’s magnificent! So much power and grace!It’s beautiful!”

“That’s an eagle”, replied a nearby chicken, “That’s the King of the Birds. It’s a bird of the air… not for the likes of us. We’re only chickens, we’re birds of the earth”.

With that, they all cast their eyes downwards once more and continued digging in the dirt.

And so it was that the eagle lived and died a chicken… because that’s all it believed itself to be.

The  moral  of  the  story: You  become  what  you  believe  you  are; so  if  you  ever  dream  to  become  an  eagle, follow  your  dreams,  not  the  words  of  a  chicken.

Who are you? It’s such a simple question, and yet at the same time so complicated. As PEOPLE we’re influenced by the media, society, mentors, parents, friends and spouses. We conform and adapt to be accepted, promoted, liked, loved, and admired. But peel away the layers of what others want us to be, and who are we then?

SOMETIMES “JUST ONE” IS A PERFECT FIT

“Hope for love, pray for love, wish for love, dream for love…but don’t put your life on hold waiting for love". Mandy Hale

Have you ever noticed that dining room tables seat six, eight, or twelve-not seven, nine, or thirteen? I’ve been single all my life, usually not thinking much of it. But on holidays even the place-settings conspire against me, rendering a silent rebuke against my single status.

You can endure holiday dinners two ways if you’re single: 1) Bring someone you don’t particularly care for; 2) Hear the awful words “pull up an extra seat,” a euphemism for either a collapsible chair or one that is too high or too low for the table. Either strategy leaves you uncomfortable.

At Thanksgiving two years ago, while my calves cramped from straddling the leg of my brother’s dining room table, Aunt Nell took the opportunity to ask for details about my love life, which was seriously lacking at the time. The event was excruciating. Though I enjoy singlehood in the main, there have been times when I’ve worked myself into a mad frenzy looking for someone to fill a void I thought I couldn’t satisfy on my own. Someone, anyone with a pulse would do. Over the years, I dated quite a few guys I liked – I was even engaged once but “till death do we part” seemed a very long time. I always ended up alone again. So holidays, especially with the Aunt Nells of the family, can weaken my confidence, leaving me a little bereft.

One day, noting my frustration surrounding the holidays, a friend of mine suggested we try something different on the next such occasion. “How `bout you and I go down to a homeless shelter and help out? Then maybe we’ll be grateful for what we have,” she proposed. I had a thousand reasons why this wasn’t a good idea, but my friend persisted. The next Christmas I found myself in an old downtown warehouse, doling out food.

Never in my life had I seen so many turkeys and rows of pumpkin pies. Decorations donated by a nearby grocery store created a festive atmosphere that uplifted even my reluctant spirit. When everyone was fed, I took a tray and filled a plate with the bountiful harvest. After a few bites, I knew what everyone was carrying on about; the food was really good.

My dinner companions were easy company. Nobody asked me why I didn’t have a date or when I was going to settle down. People just seemed grateful for a place to sit and enjoy a special dinner. To my surprise, I found I had much in common with my fellow diners. They were people just like me.

My experience that Christmas brought me back to the shelter the following year. I enjoyed helping others so much that I began seeking more opportunities to serve. I started volunteering for the Literacy Foundation once a week. I figured I could sit in front of the TV, or I could use those evening hours to help others learn to read. Caring for others has abundantly filled the void in my life that I had sometimes interpreted as a missing mate.

When I stopped trying to so hard to fit in, I realized I was single for a reason and found my own special purpose. There is room at the table for a party of one. And sometimes “just one” is the perfect fit.

Author Unknown

“Hope for love, pray for love, wish for love, dream for love…but don’t put your life on hold waiting for love”. Mandy Hale

A Beautiful Touching Story On Patience

“Patience is power. Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is "timing" it waits on the right time to act, for the right principles and in the right way.” ― Fulton J. Sheen

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked. “Just a minute” answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said.

I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. “it’s nothing”, I told her.. ˜I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.”

˜Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ˜Could you drive through downtown?

“It’s not the shortest way, I answered quickly”

˜Oh, I don’t mind”, she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ˜I don’t have any family left”, she continued in a soft voice.”The doctor says I don’t have very long.”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. ˜What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I am tired.Let’s go now”.

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

˜How much do I owe you?” She asked, reaching into her purse. “Nothing”, I said.

˜You have to make a living, she answered.

“˜There are other passengers” I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly. ˜You gave an old woman a little moment of joy”, she said. ˜Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.I t was the sound of the closing of a life.. I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

(Author Unknown)