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 amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the rest. Don't you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and different? Join hands with one another and come to me."
Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined hands. The rain continued: "From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The Rainbow is a sign of hope for tomorrow." And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a Rainbow appears in the sky, let us remember to appreciate one another.
He met her at a party. She was outstanding; many guys were after her, but nobody paid any attention to him. After the party, he invited her for coffee. She was surprised. So as not to appear rude, she went along.
As they sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything and she felt uncomfortable. Suddenly, he asked the waiter, "Could you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee."
They stared at him. He turned red, but when the salt came, he put it in his coffee and drank. Curious, she asked, "Why salt with coffee?" He explained, "When I was a little boy, I lived near the sea. I liked playing on the sea ... I could feel its taste salty, like salty coffee. Now every time I drink it, I think of my childhood and my hometown. I miss it and my parents, who are still there."
She was deeply touched. A man who can admit that he's homesick must love his home and care about his family. He must be responsible.
She talked too, about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family. That was the start to their love story.
They continued to date. She found that he met all her requirements. He was tolerant, kind, warm and careful. And to think she would have missed the catch if not for the salty coffee!
So they married and lived happily together. And every time she made coffee for him, she put in some salt, the way he liked it.
After 40 years, he passed away and left her a letter which said:
My dearest, please forgive my life-long lie. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous I asked for salt instead of sugar.
It was hard for me to ask for a change, so I just went ahead. I never thought that we would hit it off. Many times, I tried to tell you the truth, but I was afraid that it would ruin everything.
Sweetheart, I don't exactly like salty coffee. But as it mattered so much to you, I've learnt to enjoy it. Having you with me was my greatest happiness. If I could live a second time, I hope we can be together again, even if it means that I have to drink salty coffee for the rest of my life.
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
"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
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,
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