"Is this your car, Mister?" he said.
Paul nodded, "My brother gave it to me for Christmas."
The boy was astounded, "You mean your brother gave it to you, and didn't cost you anything?"
"Boy, I wish..." he hesitated.
Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to wish he has a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paull all the way down his heels.
"I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that."
Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then inpulsivly he added, "Would you like to take a ride in my car?"
"Oh, yes. I'd love that."
After a short ride, the boy turned his eyes aglow, said, "Mister, would you mind driving in front of my house?"
Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbours that he could ride home in a big automobile. But Paul was wrong again.
"Would you stop at those with two steps?" the boy asked.
He ran up stairs. Then in a little while, Paul heard him coming back, but he was not coming fast. He was carrying his little crippled brother. He set him down on the bottom step. Then a sort of squeezed up against him and pointed to the car.
"There she is, buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him for Christmas and didn't cost hime a cent. And some day, I'm gonna give you one just like it. Then you can see for yourself all the prettiest things in the windows that I was trying to tell you about."
Paul got off and lifted the lad into the front of his car. The shinning eyed old brother crimbed in beside him. And three of them began a memorable holiday ride.
That Christmas eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant, when he said, "It is more blessed to give than to receive..."
"A friend walk in when the rest of the world walks out."
Sometimes in life,
You find a special friend;
Someone who changes your life just by being part of it.
Someone who makes you laugh until you can't stop;
Someone who makes you believe that there really is good in the world.
Someone who convinces you that there really is an unlocked door just waiting for you to open it.
This is Forever Friendship.
when you're down,
and the world seems dark and empty,
Your forever friend lifts you up in spirits and makes that dark and empty world suddenly seem bright and full.
Your forever friend gets you through the hard times, the sad times, and the confused times.
If you turn and walk away,
Your forever friend follows,
If you lose you way,
Your forever friend guides you and cheers you on.
Your forever friend holds your hand and tells you that everything is going to be okay.
And if you find such a friend,
You feel happy and complete,
Because you need not worry,
Your have a forever friend for life,
And forever has no end.
Jack tossed the papers on my desk—his eyebrows knit into a straight line as he glared at me.
"What’s wrong?" I asked.
He jabbed a finger at the proposal. "Next time you want to change anything, ask me first," he said, turning on his heels and leaving me stewing in anger.
How dare he treat me like that, I thought. I had changed one long sentence, and corrected grammar, something I thought I was paid to do.
It’s not that I hadn’t been warned. Other women who had worked my job before me called Jack names I couldn’t repeat. One coworker took me aside the first day. "He’s personally responsible for two different secretaries leaving the firm," she whispered.
As the weeks went by, I grew to despise Jack. His actions made me question much that I believed in, such as turning the other cheek and loving your enemies. Jack quickly slapped a verbal insult on any cheek turned his way. I prayed about the situation, but to be honest, I wanted to put Jack in his place, not love him.
One day another of his episodes left me in tears. I stormed into his office, prepared to lose my job if needed, but not before I let the man know how I felt. I opened the door and Jack glanced up. “What?” he asked abruptly.
Suddenly I knew what I had to do. After all, he deserved it.
I sat across from him and said calmly, “Jack, the way you’ve been treating me is wrong. I’ve never had anyone speak to me that way. As a professional, it’s wrong, and I can’t allow it to continue.”
Jack snickered nervously and leaned back in his chair. I closed my eyes briefly. God help me, I prayed.
“I want to make you a promise. I will be a friend,” I said. “I will treat you as you deserve to be treated, with respect and kindness. You deserve that. Everybody does.” I slipped out of the chair and closed the door behind me.
Jack avoided me the rest of the week. Proposals, specs, and letters appeared on my desk while I was at lunch, and my corrected versions were not seen again. I brought cookies to the office one day and left a batch on his desk. Another day I left a note. “Hope your day is going great,” it read.
Over the next few weeks, Jack reappeared. He was reserved, but there were no other episodes. Coworkers cornered me in the break room. “Guess you got to Jack,” they said. “You must have told him off good.”
I shook my head. “Jack and I are becoming friends,” I said in faith. I refused to talk about him. Every time I saw Jack in the hall, I smiled at him. After all, that’s what friends do.
I look at spiders and butter-flies . I watch caterpillars and moths . Sometimes I think I'm the only one who notices these things . But if it hadn't been for a crowded cafeteria , I wouldn't Have ever noticed Valeri . After all , I wasn't looking for new friends .Valeri was a new student . She walked to class with her boooks huddled against her chest and her head down . He talked only when the teacher asked her a question . After a month at our school , she hadn't made any friend . At recess , she sat on a bench and read . If you asked who she was , you'd get a response like this , "She's in my PE class , I can't remenber her name ."One day at lunch , I had nowhere to sit . Most tables were full , my friends scattered among them . But Valeri sat alone , book in hand , I walked over to her ."May I sit here ?"I asked ."Sure ,"she said .The cafeteria was noisy , but silence hung between us . Valeri didn't seem to mind , but it drove me crazy . I searched my mind for things to say .
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.We talked all the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes. We hung 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,
Purple rose up to his full height: He was very tall and spoke with great pomp: "I am the color of royalty and power. Kings, chiefs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey."Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for prayer and inner peace."And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a startling flash of bright lightening thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one another for comfort.In the midst of the clamor, rain began to speak: "You foolish colors, fighting amo
Sometimes I really doubt whether there is love between my parents. Every day they are very busy trying to earn money in order to pay the high tuition for my brother and me. They don’t act in the romantic ways that I read in books or I see on TV. In their opinion, “I love you” is too luxurious for them to say. Sending flowers to each other on Valentine’s Day is even more out of the question. Finally my father has a bad temper. When he’s very tired from the hard work, it is easy for him to lose his temper.One day, my mother was sewing a quilt. I silently sat down beside her and looked at her.“Mom, I have a question to ask you,” I said after a while.“What?” she replied, still doing her work.“Is there love between you and Dad?” I asked her in a very low voice.My mother stopped her work and raised her head with surprise in her eyes. She didn’t answer immediately. Then she bowed her head and continued to sew the quilt.I was very worried because I thought I had hurt her. I was in a gre
Most people need to hear those "three little words" I love you. Once in a while, they hear them just in timeI met Connie the day she was admitted to the hospice ward, where I worked as a volunteer. Her husband, Bill, stood nervously nearby as she was transferred from the gurney to the hospital bed. Although Connie was in the final stages of her fight against cancer, she was alert and cheerful. We got her settled in. I finished marking her name on all the hospital supplies she would be using, then asked if she needed anything."Oh, yes," she said, "would you please show me how to use the TV? I enjoy the soaps so much and I don't want to get behind on what's happening." Connie was a romantic. She loved soap operas, romance novels and movies with a good love story. As we became acquainted, she confided how frustrating it was to be married 32 years to a man who often called her "a silly woman.""Oh, I know Bill loves me," she said, "but he has never been one to say he loves me, or send ca
No one’s born being good at all things. You become good at things through hard work.You’re not a varsity athlete the first time you play a new sport. You don’t hit every note the first time you sing a song.You’ve got to practice. The same principle applies to your schoolwork.You might have to do a math problem a few times before you get it right. You might have to read something a few times before you understand it.You definitely have to do a few drafts of a paper before it’s good enough to hand in.Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it. I do that every day. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strengthbecause it shows you have the courage to admit when you don’t know something, and that then allows you to learn something new. So find an adult that you trust -- a parent, a grandparentor teacher, a coach or a counselor -- and ask them to help you stay on track tomeet your goals.Many people rea
Dear World:My son starts school today.It's going to be strange and new to him for a while, and I wish you would sort of treat him gently.You see, up to now, he's been king of the roost.He's been boss of the backyard.I have always been around to repair his wounds, and to soothe his feelings.But now--things are going to be different.This morning, he's going to walk down the front steps, wave his hand and start on his great adventure that will probably include wars and tragedy and sorrow.To live his life in the world he has to live in will require faith and love and courage.So, World, I wish you would sort of take him by his young hand and teach him the things he will have to know.Teach him - but gently, if you can.Teach him that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for every crooked politician there is a dedicated leader; that for every enemy there is a friend.Teach him the wonders of books.Give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in
No one’s born being good at all things. You become good at things through hard work.You’re not a varsity athlete the first time you play a new sport. You don’t hit every note the first time you sing a song.You’ve got to practice. The same principle applies to your schoolwork.You might have to do a math problem a few times before you get it right. You might have to read something a few times before you understand it.You definitely have to do a few drafts of a paper before it’s good enough to hand in.Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it. I do that every day. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strengthbecause it shows you have the courage to admit when you don’t know something, and that then allows you to learn something new. So find an adult that you trust -- a parent, a grandparentor teacher, a coach or a counselor -- and ask them to help you stay on track tomeet your goals.Many people rea
Most people need to hear those "three little words" I love you. Once in a while, they hear them just in timeI met Connie the day she was admitted to the hospice ward, where I worked as a volunteer. Her husband, Bill, stood nervously nearby as she was transferred from the gurney to the hospital bed. Although Connie was in the final stages of her fight against cancer, she was alert and cheerful. We got her settled in. I finished marking her name on all the hospital supplies she would be using, then asked if she needed anything."Oh, yes," she said, "would you please show me how to use the TV? I enjoy the soaps so much and I don't want to get behind on what's happening." Connie was a romantic. She loved soap operas, romance novels and movies with a good love story. As we became acquainted, she confided how frustrating it was to be married 32 years to a man who often called her "a silly woman.""Oh, I know Bill loves me," she said, "but he has never been one to say he loves me, or send ca
Sometimes I really doubt whether there is love between my parents. Every day they are very busy trying to earn money in order to pay the high tuition for my brother and me. They don’t act in the romantic ways that I read in books or I see on TV. In their opinion, “I love you” is too luxurious for them to say. Sending flowers to each other on Valentine’s Day is even more out of the question. Finally my father has a bad temper. When he’s very tired from the hard work, it is easy for him to lose his temper.One day, my mother was sewing a quilt. I silently sat down beside her and looked at her.“Mom, I have a question to ask you,” I said after a while.“What?” she replied, still doing her work.“Is there love between you and Dad?” I asked her in a very low voice.My mother stopped her work and raised her head with surprise in her eyes. She didn’t answer immediately. Then she bowed her head and continued to sew the quilt.I was very worried because I thought I had hurt her. I was in a gre
Purple rose up to his full height: He was very tall and spoke with great pomp: "I am the color of royalty and power. Kings, chiefs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey."Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for prayer and inner peace."And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a startling flash of bright lightening thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one another for comfort.In the midst of the clamor, rain began to speak: "You foolish colors, fighting amo
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.We talked all the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes. We hung 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,
I look at spiders and butter-flies . I watch caterpillars and moths . Sometimes I think I'm the only one who notices these things . But if it hadn't been for a crowded cafeteria , I wouldn't Have ever noticed Valeri . After all , I wasn't looking for new friends .Valeri was a new student . She walked to class with her boooks huddled against her chest and her head down . He talked only when the teacher asked her a question . After a month at our school , she hadn't made any friend . At recess , she sat on a bench and read . If you asked who she was , you'd get a response like this , "She's in my PE class , I can't remenber her name ."One day at lunch , I had nowhere to sit . Most tables were full , my friends scattered among them . But Valeri sat alone , book in hand , I walked over to her ."May I sit here ?"I asked ."Sure ,"she said .The cafeteria was noisy , but silence hung between us . Valeri didn't seem to mind , but it drove me crazy . I searched my mind for things to say .
"Is this your car, Mister?" he said.Paul nodded, "My brother gave it to me for Christmas."The boy was astounded, "You mean your brother gave it to you, and didn't cost you anything?""Boy, I wish..." he hesitated.Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to wish he has a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paull all the way down his heels."I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that."Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then inpulsivly he added, "Would you like to take a ride in my car?""Oh, yes. I'd love that."After a short ride, the boy turned his eyes aglow, said, "Mister, would you mind driving in front of my house?"Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbours that he could ride home in a big automobile. But Paul was wrong again."Would you stop at those with two steps?" the boy asked.He ran up stairs. Then in a little while, Paul heard him coming back, but he was not
Dear World:My son starts school today.It's going to be strange and new to him for a while, and I wish you would sort of treat him gently.You see, up to now, he's been king of the roost.He's been boss of the backyard.I have always been around to repair his wounds, and to soothe his feelings.But now--things are going to be different.This morning, he's going to walk down the front steps, wave his hand and start on his great adventure that will probably include wars and tragedy and sorrow.To live his life in the world he has to live in will require faith and love and courage.So, World, I wish you would sort of take him by his young hand and teach him the things he will have to know.Teach him - but gently, if you can.Teach him that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for every crooked politician there is a dedicated leader; that for every enemy there is a friend.Teach him the wonders of books.Give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in