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Thursday, 26 December 2013

Red Marbles

During the waning years of the depression in a small Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used extensively.

One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.
I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas ... sure look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

"Not zackley ... but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."

"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had the occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there I learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them.

Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very professional looking.

They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.
"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size ... they came to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

MORAL: We will not be remembered by our words... but by our kind deeds.
Today, I wish you a day of ordinary miracles...
A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself...
An unexpected phone call from an old friend...
Green traffic lights on your way to work...
The fastest line at the grocery store...
A good sing-along song on the radio...
Your keys right where you left them.
Life is not measured by the breaths we take,
but by the moments that take our breath.

Red Lipstick Kisses and A Black Eye

My first wife used to cover me with red lipstick kisses before we made love. I must admit, it really turned me on. I would watch her applying it while standing in front of a mirror. After finishing, she would turn to me and begin kissing me all over my face and neck.

One night we had a terrible argument after having too much to drink at a party. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but she had bruised my male ego.

The party we had been at was both indoors and out. There was a badminton net in the backyard and we started playing. At first, we just volleyed back and forth, but then started a game. Some women started watching us and keeping score.

The first game was close, but she pulled ahead toward the end and won 15 - 12, receiving a loud applause from the women spectators. During the second game, the women started really getting into the game, calling it a battle of sexes. When she won decisively (15 - 7), they cheered all the louder.
I started to walk off the playing field, thinking we had played enough when my wife yelled out; "What's the matter, afraid to get beaten by a woman in front of everyone?" I agreed to play another game and got soundly trounced. I think it was around 15 - 3. We stayed about two more hours and consumed more margueritas than we should have.

While we were driving home, she kept talking about how much fun it had been. My replies were short and with a bit of an edge. After a while, she became angry about my attitude and things started to escalate.

When we got home, it got much worse. At some point, I said something really ugly and she whirled around and socked me right in the eye, knocking me flat on the floor. I'm not sure if I was knocked unconscious or not, but the next thing I knew, I got hit with my pillow, which she had thrown. She stormed off upstairs and locked our bedroom door. I staggered over to a sofa and fell asleep.
I really should have put ice on my eye before falling asleep because, in the morning, it was almost swollen shut. My eye was all bloodshot and the bruising around it was dark black and blue. I was so mad at my wife. How was I going to explain this very black and swollen eye to everyone in the coming week?

I think my wife was a little shocked when she saw what she had done. However, she didn't say anything and we stayed clear of each other for most of the day.

In the evening I was watching a football when my wife came in the room dressed rather provocatively and with her red lipstick on. She sat down next to me. I tried to ignore her and watch the gave, but then she began kissing me. I kept trying to hold on to my anger but she was wearing me down. After a couple of minutes, I took a glance at our reflection in a mirror on the wall. She looked at the mirror the same time and our eyes met.

I probably had a dozen red lipstick all over my checks, forehead, neck, everywhere except close to the black eye (It was real sore). We both broke up laughing. Then we started laughing about the whole situation, the badminton game, the argument, and the black eye.

She went and got her camera and set up a timed picture of us embracing - me with my black eye and covered with lipstick kisses. She had it framed and used to show it to her friends and tell them the story behind it. Funny thing, neither of us could remember what I had said before she let me have it. While telling the story, she used to say; "we can't remember what he said, but whatever it was, he knows better than to say it again."

We didn't over-indulge ourselves with alcohol very much after that. I learned not to say hurtful or damaging things when we argued. Also, I worked at overcoming my fragile male ego. Fact was, she was a better athlete than I and regularly beat me in tennis, badminton, volleyball, ping pong... you name it. She even beat me a few times arm wrestling. I didn't mind so much, as long as it was just between us.

She came to realize that she had a hot temper and worked to mellow out some. She also came to a better understanding of the male ego and how easily it could be bruised. I loved that woman.
I lost her to breast cancer after 13 years of marriage. I sure do miss her.

Puppy Love

We jog, run, camp, fish, and build furniture. But do we ever cross the line?
I'm Bill McCartney... It's 4th and Goal!

I know men who can take raw wood and a few nails and create a family heirloom. And then there are those of us who can listen to a sputtering engine and pinpoint the problem without even popping the hood. Other guys fly fish or fry up a gourmet meal.

Some of us are music lovers, avid readers and huge pet fans. These interests help fulfill us, but sometimes we can get caught up filling our days... and evenings... and weekends... pursuing activities that leave our families in the dust.

Take our interest in man's best friend. Our animals are companions for kids, protection for the home and just plain furry fun for the whole family. But, with all the extras and supplies available, there can be a tendency to get a little carried away.

We've got doggy beds, doggy diet chow, and special canine clothing. People primp their pooches, put them up in pet hotels, and even take them to counselors, when they're not sure what's dogging Fido. Things can easily get out of hand.

While we enjoy our outside interests and hobbies, do we let these "extras" become sore spots in our lives? Do they absorb far more time, energy and money than we should be sacrificing?
Any diversion can draw us away from the relationships that make life worth living. Let's ask ourselves what's more important, fulfilling our own needs or being a father to our children? What will they remember longer? The shiny wax job on the classic 'vette? Or all those times we got on the ground and wrestled around with them?

Guys, we can take our hobbies to the extreme, pouring money and time into efforts that have no lasting value. Anything we put ahead of our wives and children, whether a pedigreed pooch, a workbench full of tools, or a super-deluxe convertible, says something about who we are, as men. Let's keep first things first and stay clear of anything that pulls us away from our first priorities as fathers and husbands.

Miracle By Chance

This is a “true story” about how I met my boyfriend on a dating site on the Internet.  

15 YEARS AGO:   

I used to hang out at a country bar called the “Club Palomino.” I loved listening to good bands there, and dancing to their country rock music. I used to drag my friend out to see my favourite band playing called “Cheyenne,” who were amazing and always packed the place. My friend and I used to get up and dance to their songs.

I was interested in the rhythm guitar player in the band, to me, he was the best looking one, and I loved his voice along with his rhythm guitar sound. Yes, I had the “hots” for him and would goggle eye him playing his guitar/singing while I was on the dance floor, or just standing at the bar listening and staring. I’ve always had this thing for bands, as I play guitar too, and always wanted to play in a band.

They played there for a long time and were the best band at the “Club Palomino.” I would go there as much as I could just to hear them play, and of course, always watching my favourite player. The sad part about it was I used to see him with a short blonde girl, not knowing if she was his girlfriend or wife.   

After seeing them playing there for a long time, the Club Palomino closed down. Yes, the club had been sold. Wouldn’t you know it, a huge townhouse sub-division was put up and the club was gone. So were all the bands and my favourite band, “Cheyenne.”

When I first found out about the club closing down, I wanted to approach “Cheyenne,” particularly the rhythm guitar player, and ask where they would be playing in the future. But I didn’t have enough courage to do that. I guess things happen for a reason.  

15 YEARS LATER:   

As time went on I met someone and got married. That was a mistake. Eventually we got a divorce. I starting going out to bars, again, got tired of it and not meeting anyone decent enough. I wasn’t crazy about the bands playing at other bars either. Later, a friend told me to join a particular dating site on the Internet, which I thought I would never do. But, I thought I would check it out for fun as I heard so much about it through people even meeting their soul mates from that site.

Surprisingly enough, I had a few dates, meeting in public places, but just didn’t find the right one and thought I never would from a dating site. I sort of gave up on it until one night. After getting home from a bar, which I hated, I went on my computer. For some reason I logged into that site again, which I was really glad I did. I got an interesting email from a guy and liked his picture. I was also touched by his email and that he was also interested in my picture and profile.
From then on we started emailing each other quite a lot from that site. We seemed to have so much in common through our emails. We continued writing and eventually got on MSN, and chatted for quite some time. He was Bulgarian and I was Hungarian, how common was that! We discovered from our MSN chats that we had so much in common. It was really amazing. Our families even lived in the same town of all places.

We chatted every night as often as we could.   And then, a miracle happened! We started chatting on our computers about music. Wow… we also liked all the same music and we both wrote songs. I told him I liked country music and used to frequent a particular bar about 15 years ago, which had closed down. Of course he asked me the name of the bar back then. I told him the “Club Palomino.” He was really surprised and told me he used to play there. I wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not! He said he would send me a picture of his band that played there. I thought, “yeah right” to myself as I waited patiently in front of my computer for the picture.

Low and behold, a huge picture came up on my screen, “CHEYENNE” - “CLUB PALOMINO.” I freaked! I couldn’t believe it! It was him in the picture with “Cheyenne.” The guy I was interested in, who was the rhythm guitar player in my favourite band. I was so shocked that I went crazy seeing this picture! It was just unbelievable! Like a miracle happened suddenly! Like a fairy tale!
We carried on chatting every moment we had for some time, and eventually he gave me his phone number. We started talking on the phone every night. It was just amazing all the things we had in common about everything! Yes, it was too good to be true!  

After about 3 weeks of talking on the phone every night, chatting on the computer and exchanging pictures, we decided to meet. I was brave enough for him to pick me up at my mother’s place as I developed this trust in him, by his voice and his honesty. I met him downstairs in front of my mother’s apartment building. He got out of his car, and the first thing we did was look at each other and start laughing, and laughing like crazy, and couldn’t stop laughing!

He took me to the local Canadian Legion where we talked, had a drink together (still laughing) and we got more acquainted. Eventually we went into another room and sat down at a table. After a while, he asked me if I didn’t mind if he got up on stage to do a solo. Hey, a man singing with his guitar was like being in heaven. He got up on stage and started playing his guitar and singing in front of an audience. That did it for me. I was hooked! And the guy I admired 15 years ago was performing in front of my eyes, and, was my date! I was in heaven!   

We dated for about two years and it was absolutely wonderful. Eventually we bought a condo and have been living together for 2 ½ years now. Then, the final surprise! After moving into our condo, we looked out the window and to our astonishment what did we see? The office building of the dating site we joined, of all things! What a coincidence that was!

In March of 2008, it will be five years being together, playing music, and still laughing! We are just two peas in a pod!  

He met my friend who I was with at the Club Palomino 15 years ago, and he also remembered seeing us dancing while his band “Cheyenne” played. He also remembered me standing at the bar at times. I used to watch him go to the bar for his coffee and I know our eyes met each other’s at that time.
It sure is strange crossing one another’s paths some 15 years ago - and now, being together in a different time in the future, and remembering!  

And, by the way, that short blonde girl he was with at the Club Palomino, was the girl he eventually married which lasted 8 years. He went through a brutal divorce. He did tell me that when I first saw him at the Club Palomino 15 years ago, that I should have approached him and told him “she was bad news.”

It’s funny how life is – it just wasn’t meant to be back then. Fate brought us together. We met our “soul mates”!   Thanks to that Dating Site!

Jeannette & Rick 

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Mother

She dreamed of you from the time she was a little girl cradling a baby doll in her arms. She always saw you playing around the little cottage in her childhood dreams.

She carried you in her body and you made her sick every morning for weeks and weeks. She bore you into the world through intense pain but when she heard you cry and saw your wrinkled face she forgot all about it and wept tears of joy.

She fed you at her breast and her whole world revolved around you. She stole into your room at night just to watch you sleep and she was sure you were the most beautiful child on earth. She set up through the night to bathe away the fever and at breakfast your dad said; "Sleep well, honey?" oblivious to the all-night vigil. She somehow always knew when you needed her, even in the middle of the night, and she came to your room and changed your bedding and made sure you were warm and dry.

She covered your ears and gave you your coat and checked your homework and made you practice the piano and set through all your ball games and recitals like they were the seventh game of the World Series and a debut at Carnegie Hall. She nagged you to brush your teeth with words of wisdom like; "Be true to your teeth or they will be false to you." She changed your diaper and cleaned up when you were sick and washed underwear no one else would touch without a chemical suit. And who do you think always cleaned the gunk out of the kitchen sink and bathtub drain?
She made sure you had the drumstick and your dad had the breast and acted like she preferred the wings. Her oatmeal cookies made you forget the beating you took from the neighborhood bully, or the slow rate of greeting card sales.

She listened to you and didn't laugh when others would have mocked you. She believed in you when you didn't believe in yourself and prayed for you even when you didn't think you needed it. She made you think you could do things you were sure you couldn't do. She was tough enough to call your bluff and discipline you and give you a sense of boundaries and the security that comes with it. She spanked you when "Spocking" was all the trend with lesser mothers. She knew when you needed a spanking or just a nap and she didn't always give you candy though she longed to indulge you.

She was always waiting when you came in late. When you complained about it, she pretended to be asleep the way you always did when you wanted her to carry you in from the car after a long trip.
She read the Bible to you and read the Bible in front of you and did what mothers have to do to make sure the family is faithful in church. She made your dad a much better man than he ever would have been without her. She mended clothes as a labor of love and it broke her heart to see how quickly you grew out of them. She knew you were only loaned to her from God and soon the house would fall silent again. She washed mountains of dishes and truckloads of laundry. She put up food on the hottest summer days and didn't complain.

Her most sincere prayers were the ones she sent heavenward in gratitude for you. She filled your home with fragrance and beauty and music. The smell or her perfume and fresh-cut flowers, bacon for breakfast and Sunday roast. Her eyes were bright and happy and full of life. She wept though, wept and worried a thousand times for you when no one ever knew.

She rose early on holidays so you could enjoy a festive meal and an enduring memory. She planned for days and worked for hours so that in a few minutes you could gulp it down and go watch football. You didn't always thank her or help her with the dishes, but those meals have been a cherished memory for years.

She baked you special treats just to watch you eat them. Something inside made her happier the more you ate (If you could see me you would know this made my mother a very happy woman).
She wore old dresses so you could have a new ball glove. She skipped vacations and second honeymoons so you could go to camp. She limited expenses for her hobbies so you could get your band instrument. She was happy with last year's fashion so you could have this years tennis shoes. She didn't abandon the family when your dad was insensitive to her needs. She took the blame for your failures and stood back and let your dad have the glory for your successes. And having done all these things and a thousand others that make mother a sacred word, she still felt she wasn't the mother she should have been.

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My True Life Love Story

I had been widowed for 3 1/2 years, when my dearest friend arrived for a visit with her latest husband of 6 years. She wanted so much for us to meet before her death, as she was facing her last days here on this earth. Well, he was a very nice looking man, a cowboy really, and a long haul truck driver. So, we struck up a nice friendly relationship that made my dear friend very happy. She said to me, "when my time comes, please do not let him be alone." I made her this promise, never realizing that he would, after a period of grieving for her, ask me to come and live with him.   

The way he approached me was by telling me he had a big surprise for me, as his late wife had planned this vacation of a sort for the two of us to be taken after her death. Shocked beyond belief I accepted his invitation, as this was one of her last wishes. But he was not to tell me where we were to go... just pack a bag for a week and trust him to do as she had requested. So, with some skepticism I packed my bag and waited for him to pick me up and off we went, taking over five hours to arrive at out destination... the Horse Shoe Casino. Well, let me tell you, I was like a child set loose in a candy store. I had never been in a casino before, and all of the excitement made all of the adrenaline flow like magic... and I became very at ease with the situation.   

We spent a lovely week together and talked of many things, one of which he said he was not going to be alone - he had chosen me as his companion for the balance of our live,s if I would but accept him. I told him I had to give this a lot of consideration, as I had never planned on marrying again. So, he let me know what was ahead for me and would wait for my reply.

We wrote back and forth and talked on the phone almost every night. He was out on his trips across the country and would relate to me all of the things he was seeing so I could feel as if I was there with him to enjoy them as well. Knowing I was so fascinated and intrigued by his stories, he asked if I would like to take a trip on his next run out West with him. So, I accepted... and much to my delight, I found I loved the open road as he would take extra pains to see I could enjoy a new and exciting place each morning and night as we traveled together. He was so sweet and caring I could not help but fall madly in love with him and accepted his marriage proposal when he got down on one knee and asked to take his name and be his wife. Granted, as he had said to me, she will always hold a special place in my heart, but I have found my long awaited soul mate .   

We made a number of trips over the country and I had moved to his home where we shared so many wonderful dreams and plans of our future together. After we both felt that enough time had elapsed, we set the date for our marriage and set about making all of the final little details of a glorious wedding. On the night just, 3 hours before his untimely death, we had sat and said to one another, "well, neither of us will leave this world alone, unloved or unwanted, as we have one another." So, as he gently touched my face and said, "I do love you with all of my heart, now and forever more... so never leave me." I promised him I would always be here for him and he went in and tried to sleep.
After two hours of fretful rest, he arose and headed to the bathroom only to collapse in respiratory arrest where I administered CPR and was able to have him up and coherent when the medics arrived. But he still was in need of oxygen, so he was placed in the ambulance with me at his side and, once he was in route to the hospital, he said to me as his last words ever spoken alive... " I love you babe, everything is going to be alright, so don't worry." But once said that, he went into cardiac arrest never to come out again and, with being placed on life support for 25 minutes, he completely flat lined, leaving me behind to ride the roads all alone once more.

  As I was placing him in the ground, I felt this flutter about me and glanced around to see this golden butterfly wing towards heaven, letting me know he was on the road again... but to God's highway this time. When he would awaken on the road, he would always say to me, "come on babe, it's time to be on the road again," and off we would go. So, I know in my heart when he awakens from this trip he will once again call out to me in his usual manner, "okay babe, time to be on the road again"... and I will meet him at the gate and we will forever ride the golden streets of heaven as we had planned.
He had passed to the other side just three weeks before our scheduled date of earthly marriage, but, in my heart of hearts, I was married to him in the eyes of God... for we had made out vows on a mountain top to each other before God. And even if we had never stood before man and made this vow, on the eve of his passing he had announced to all of his friends our date to be forever more together.

So, on this day, which was to be the date of our proposed marriage, I went to the cemetery, where he is at rest, and made my vows once more to him in a prayer to God. So I know our marriage is approved by God, for as I said my prayer, another butterfly joined with another and they both flew towards heaven side by side.  

Thankful for a true love of a life time...

 Elizabeth Cook ( Sackett ) - or at least in my heart it is so.

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Love Is Alive

He came into my life unexpectedly. Sort of like a movie. You know, the kind that leaves you with little tears about to fall from your eyes. A huge lump in your throat, and inspiration. A drive that makes you so sure you will find love out there. (Wishful thinking?)

We met on the internet. I can already hear the peanut gallery's snide remarks and deftly dealt blows to my intelligence, my morals, my thoughts. After all, I must be crazy, and he must be an axe murderer right? I must be desperate, after all, to fall in love with a man over the internet. No, none of the above. (You pessimists just have to chalk this one up to a loss!)

He is the most caring, compassionate man I have ever met. And I can say that with all honesty, with all truths freely tossed into the lion's den for approval.

At first, I wasn't expecting it to happen. Wasn't looking for it. But I wasn't against it. I was open to it sub-consciously, I suppose. Searching for that fairy tale somewhere, my internal thoughts caught up with the rest of science and dove into technology as well. I had heard so much about it happening to real life people like me, from places in the world I had never heard of, but it happened!

I had talked to him on and off through way of chat rooms for about a year. In this year, I didn't get to know him really. Except the fact that he seemed like a really nice guy. He intrigued me. Maybe it was this portal into another realm we were both opening up. Making it harder to not talk. It's all you can do, just type out your inner most thoughts, and delight in the very thought of making a 'friend' online.
We started talking, and I wanted to know more about him. I got excited when I saw his name in my e-mail inbox. Even happier I was when replying to him. I was pouring myself out to this stranger, and he was responding. Giving of himself more and more each time he hit Send, as was I.

In this chat room, we had 'mutual friends'. Other people that regularly chatted and with whom shared a bond with us. We knew each other's names, who had kids, each other's love lives, or lack thereof, and who was allergic to what. A kinship was born in this chat room, but all of that was irrelevant as I asked this other chatter, "What's his phone number?" I asked, he gave. I called him that night.

Our phone conversation was great. I was attracted immediately by his voice. He was feeling the same way about mine. But there had to be more, right? There just has to be! I was thirsting for more information from him. I simply wanted to know everything about this man. We had seen each other's pictures already, sent through the wonderful e-mail services. Our eyes glanced upon each other's pictures and saw a promising something there. We liked each other at this point. Promises to call each other were made, and more e-mails were sent.

Finally, we fell in love. Just like that. Fell. Head over heels. And I can say this, without hesitation, that I fall in love with this man more and more every day. When I hear his voice, BAM, I fall in love again. When I look into his eyes, BAM, I'm in love again. Anything this man does equates to pure, sweetened love for me.

Of course, there's a loop hole. Isn't there always? We are long distance. I represent the East Coast, and he the West. Was it possible, is it possible? Yes and yes. We talked endlessly about this. Tip toed around the fact that it would be hard, but took into the account that it wouldn't be easy. Poured over every obstacle that would stand in our way, and would eventually test us and our strength, had we gotten together.

We talked about our wants, our needs, our desires at this time. What we wanted from each other, and how we could go about it. We knew all we wanted was to be together, but could we handle it? Were we ready to take on something so rough? We have. Overcoming the distance, the money issues, the conversation issues, well, it hasn't been easy. But we don't think any relationship is a bed of roses. We take the good, and the bad, and we still love each other.

Through this love we have grown stronger. We have learned from each other. We have taken our relationship beyond the levels of just something we got 'off the internet'.

Meeting was like a dream. I was absolutely on pins and needles. Seeing him though, only reinstated my previous feelings I had felt for him, and made them that much stronger. Love at first sight? Oh, it happened alright.

We have shared so many times together. His presence completes me. The lost piece to my puzzle. The one thing that I can hold onto in this world. The one relationship I have ever felt love from. He loves me. Plain and simple. With my flaws and all. He sees the good in me, and I can see it in him.

I have found my true connection. Without him, I'd simply be searching for something that couldn't give me what he gives me. It would only be false, and I know this to be of truth, because for once in my life, my heart feels what my head does, and they are both in sync. I'm loving every minute of it.
When you hear the proverbial warnings of finding anything reliable on the internet, scoff away the remarks. It can happen, it has happened. When you hear the woes of love tales gone sour, just know that love is alive. It is all around us, and it will find you when you least expect it. And in the last place you would ever think of finding it.

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John 3:16

A little boy was selling newspapers on the corner street, where the people were going in and out of the cold. The little boy was so cold himself that he wasn't really trying to sell many papers.
He walked up to a policeman nearby and said, "Mister, you wouldn't happen to know where a poor boy could find a warm place to sleep tonight would you? You see, I sleep in a box up around the corner there and down the alley and it's awful cold in there for tonight. Sure would be nice to have a warm place to stay."

The policeman looked down at the little boy and said, "You go down the street to that big white house and you knock on the door. When they come out the door... you just say John 3:16, and they will let you in."

So he did. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door, and a lady answered. He looked up and said, "John 3:16." The lady said, "Come on in, Son." She took him in and she sat him down in a split bottom rocker in front of a great big old fireplace, and she went off. The boy sat there for a while and thought to himself: John 3:16. I don't understand it, but it sure makes a cold boy warm.
Later she came back and asked him "Are you hungry?"

He said, "Well, just a little. I haven't eaten in a couple of days, and I guess I could stand a little bit of food," The lady took him in the kitchen and sat him down to a table full of wonderful food. He ate and ate until he couldn't eat any more. Then he thought to himself... John 3:16... Boy, I sure don't understand it but it sure makes a hungry boy full.

She took him upstairs to a bathroom to a huge bathtub filled with warm water, and he sat there and soaked for a while. As he soaked, he thought to himself: John 3:16... I sure don't understand it, but it sure makes a dirty boy clean. You know, I've not had a bath, a real bath, in my whole life. The only bath I ever had was when I stood in front of that big old fire hydrant as they flushed it out.

The lady came in and got him. She took him to a room, tucked him into a big old feather bed, pulled the covers up around his neck, kissed him goodnight and turned out the lights. As he lay in the darkness and looked out the window at the snow coming down on that cold night, he thought to himself: John 3:16... I don't understand it but it sure makes a tired boy rested.

The next morning the lady came back up and took him down again to that same big table full of food. After he ate, she took him back to that same big old split bottom rocker in front of the fireplace and picked up a big old Bible.

She sat down in front of him and looked into his young face. "Do you understand John 3:16?" she asked gently. He replied, "No, Ma'am, I don't. The first time I ever heard it was last night when the policeman told me to use it." She opened the Bible to John 3:16, and began to explain to him about Jesus.

Right there, in front of that big old fireplace, he gave his heart and life to Jesus. He sat there and thought: John 3:16....don't understand it, but it sure makes a lost boy feel safe.

You know, I have to confess I don't understand it either, how God was willing to send His Son to die for me, and how Jesus would agree to do such a thing. I don't understand the agony of the Father and every angel in heaven as they watched Jesus suffer and die. I don't understand the intense love for ME that kept Jesus on the cross till the end. I don't understand it, but it sure does make life worth living.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. -- John 3:16

Jesus said, "If you are ashamed of me, I will be ashamed of you before my Father."
If you are not ashamed to do this, please share this message with others.

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If You Love Her Enough

My friend John always has something to tell me. He knows so much that young men have to have older and more worldly wise men to tell them. For instance who to trust, how to care for others, and how to live life to the fullest.   

Recently, John lost his wife Janet. For eight years she fought against cancer, but in the end her sickness had the last word.   

One day John took out a folded piece of paper from his wallet. He had found it, so he told me, when he tidied up some drawers at home. It was a small love letter Janet had written. The note could look like a school girl's scrawls about her dream guy. All that was missing was a drawing of a heart with the names John and Janet written in it. But the small letter was written by a woman who had had seven children; a woman who fought for her life and who probably only had a few months left to live.
  It was also a beautiful recipe for how to keep a marriage together.

  Janet's description of her husband begins thus: "Loved me. Took care of me. Worried about me."   
Even though John always had a ready answer, he never joked about cancer apparently. Sometimes he came home in the evening to find Janet in the middle of one of those depressions cancer patients so often get. In no time he got her into the car and drove her to her favourite restaurant.   

He showed consideration for her, and she knew it. You cannot hide something for someone who knows better.   

"Helped me when I was ill," the next line reads. Perhaps Janet wrote this while the cancer was in one of the horrible and wonderful lulls. Where everything is -- almost -- as it used to be, before the sickness broke out, and where it doesn't hurt to hope that everything is over, maybe forever.   
"Forgave me a lot."
  "Stood by my side."   
And a piece of good advice for everyone who looks on giving constructive criticism as a kind of sacred duty: "Always praising."   

"Made sure I had everything I needed," she goes on to write.
  After that she has turned over the paper and added: "Warmth. Humour. Kindness. Thoughtfulness." And then she writes about the husband she has lived with and loved the most of her life: "Always there for me when I needed you."   

The last words she wrote sum up all the others. I can see her for me where she adds thoughtfully: "Good friend."

  I stand beside John now, and cannot even pretend to know how it feels to lose someone who is as close to me as Janet was to him. I need to hear what he has to say much more than he needs to talk.   
"John," I ask. "How do you stick together with someone through 38 years -- not to mention the sickness? How do I know if I can bear to stand by my wife's side if she becomes sick one day?"
  "You can," he says quietly. "If you love her enough, you can."

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I Love You

When I speak, I tell my audiences, "As you get out of bed each morning and stumble into the bathroom, jump-start each day with a positive attitude. Look in the mirror and say, 'Good Morning. I love you. We're going to have a great day!'"

Jill implemented this plan at home when their Sunday scramble to church had become a war. It was a fight to get her family out of bed and dressed. Yet, despite all her raving and ranting, they always arrived late, surrounded by an angry cloud of silence.

One Sunday, she tried her new affirmation. She stood over her husband's side of the bed and whispered in his ear, "Good Morning. I love you! We're going to have a great day!"
Dan opened one eye and said, "What? Are you crazy?"

She just smiled and went across the hallway to their five-year-old son's bedroom. She opened the door and repeated the greeting. Jeff rolled over and said, "You're wrong, Mom. We're going to have a bad day!"

She smiled again and went across the hallway to check on Dan. She couldn't believe it. He was already up, dressing!

She trotted back to Jeff's room. To her surprise he too was out of bed, putting on his clothes!
That Sunday was the first in a month of Sundays they arrived at church on time and still liking one another.

So Jill turned this greeting into a morning ritual. She had been especially worried about her five-year-old's negative attitude. Each morning, she woke Jeff with her new greeting, and each morning, he gave her some sort of a cynical retort.

Her worries ended when one morning, she opened his bedroom door and before she could speak, Jeff looked up at her with his big brown eyes and said, "Good Morning. I love you, Mom. We're going to have a great day!"

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