25 August 2013

posted 23 Aug 2013, 09:46 by C S Paul

25 August 2013

Quotes to Inspire 


  • "The price of greatness is responsibility." – Sir. Winston Churchill
  • "Call on God, but row away from the rocks." – Indian Proverb
  • "You must be the change you want to see in the world." – Mahathma Gandhi
  • "The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events." – Winston Churchill
  • "Common sense is the knack of seeing things as they are, and doing things as they ought to be done." – Harriett Beecher Stowe
  • "It really doesn't matter if the person who hurt you deserves to be forgiven. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. You have things to do and you want to move on." – Author Unknown
  • "You miss 100 percent of the shots you never take" – Wayne Gretzky
  • "Every generation of Americans [and others] needs to know that freedom exists not in doing what we like, but in having the right to do what we ought." – Pope John Paul II
  • "We can stand affliction better than we can prosperity, for in prosperity we forget God." – Dwight L. Moody
  • "If it is desirable that our children be kind, responsible, pleasant and honest, then those qualities must be taught—not hoped for." – James Dobson
  • "When your only tool is a hammer, you see every problem as a nail." – A. Maslow
  • "You can wash your hands but not your conscience." – Yiddish Proverb
  • "Success is more a function of consistent common sense than it is of genius." – An Wang

A Promise is a Promise

Author Unknown

A man’s wife called him, “How long will you be poring over that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?”, he tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene.

His only daughter Sindu, looked frightened, tears were welling up in her eyes, in front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice.

Sindu was a nice child, quite intelligent for her age, she has just turned eight, she particularly detested Curd Rice. His wife and her mother were orthodox and believed firmly in the ‘cooling effects’ of Curd Rice! He cleared his throat, and picked up the bowl.“Sindu, darling, why don’t you take a few mouthfuls of this Curd Rice? Just for Dad’s sake, dear? And, if you don’t, your Mom will shout at me.”He could sense his wife’s scowl behind his back. Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands.
“OK, Dad. I will eat – not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should…” Sindu hesitated, “Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?”
“Oh sure, darling’.“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He covered the pink soft hand extended by his daughter with his and clinched the deal.
“Ask Mom also to give a similar promise”, his daughter insisted, his wife slapped her hand on Sindu’s, muttering, “Promise”, without any emotion.

Now he became a bit anxious. “Sindu dear, you shouldn’t insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items, Dad does not have that kind of money right now. OK?”
“No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive.”

Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity, he was silently angry with his wife and her mother for forcing his child to eat something that she detested. After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to him with her eyes wide with expectation, all our attention was on her.

“Dad, I want to have my hair shaved off, this Sunday!’ was her demand.

“Atrocious!” shouted the wife, “A girl child having her hair shaved off? Impossible!” 

“Never in our family!” her mother rasped. “She has been watching too much television, our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!”

“Sindu darling, why don’t you ask for something else? we will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.”

“No, Dad. I do not want anything else”, Sindu said with finality.

“Please, Sindu, why don’t you try to understand our feelings?” he tried to plead with her.

“Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice.” Sindu was in tears. “And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for, now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?”

It was time for him to call the shots. “Our promise must be kept.”

“Are you out your mind?” chorused his wife and her mother.

“No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own, Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.”

With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful. On Monday morning, he dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch his hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned around and waved, he waved back with a smile.

Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, “Sinduja, please wait for me!”
What struck him was the hairless head of that boy. Maybe, that is the in-stuff, he thought.
“Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!”

He stood transfixed and then, wept. He said “My little Angel, you have taught me how selfless real love is!”


Are you proud or embarrassed of your dad ?

Author Unknown

On the first day, as President Abraham Lincoln entered to give his inaugural address, just in the middle, one man stood up. 

He was a rich aristocrat .

He said, “Mr. Lincoln, you should not forget that your father used to make shoes for my family .”

And the whole Senate laughed; they thought they had made a fool of Abraham Lincoln.
But Lincoln and that type of people are made of a totally different mettle.

Lincoln looked at the man and said, ”

Sir I know that my father used to make shoes in your house for your family, and there will be many others here….

Because the way he made shoes; nobody else can. He was a creator .

His shoes were not just shoes; he poured his whole soul in it. I want to ask you, have you any complaint?

Because I know how to make shoes myself. 

If you have any complaint I can make another pair of shoes .

But as far as I know, nobody has ever complained about my father’s shoes. 

He was a genius, a great creator and I am proud of my father”.

The whole Senate was struck dumb. 

They could not understand what kind of man Abraham Lincoln was.

He was proud because his father did the job so well that not even a single complaint had ever been heard.

Moral of the story

Are you proud or embarrassed of your dad and what he used to do for a living?
“No one can hurt you without your consent.”

” It is not what happens to us that hurts us. It is our response that hurts us.”

To give service to a single heart with a Single Act of Kindness is greater than a thousand heads bowing in Prayers…..

Bruised Apples

Author Unknown

A few years ago a group of salesmen went to a regional sales convention in Chicago. They had assured their wives that they would be home in plenty of time for Friday night’s dinner. Well, as such things go, one thing led to another. The sales meeting lasted longer than anticipated.

Their flights were scheduled to leave out of Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, and they had to race to the airport. With tickets in hand, they barged through the terminal to catch their flight back home. In their rush, with tickets and briefcases, one of these salesmen inadvertently kicked over a table, which held a display of baskets of apples. Apples flew everywhere.

Without stopping or looking back, they all managed to reach the plane in time for their nearly missed boarding, all but one. He paused, took a deep breath and experienced a twinge of compassion for the girl whose apple stand had been overturned. He told his buddies to go on without him and told one of them to call his wife when they arrived at their home destination and explain his taking a later flight.

Then he returned to the terminal where the apples were all over the floor. He was glad he did. The 16-year-old girl at the apple stand was totally blind! She was softly crying, tears running down her cheeks in frustration, and at the same time helplessly groping for her spilled produce as the crowd swirled about her, no one stopping or to care for her plight.

The salesman knelt on the floor with her, gathered up the apples, put them into the baskets, and helped set the display up once more. As he did this, he noticed that many of them had become battered and bruised; these he set aside in another basket. When he had finished, he pulled out his wallet and said to the girl, “Here, please take this $20 for the damage we did. Are you okay?” She nodded through her tears.

He continued on with, “I hope we didn’t spoil your day too badly.”

As the salesman started to walk away, the bewildered blind girl called out to him, “Mister….” He paused and turned to look back into those blind eyes. She continued, “Are you Jesus?”

He stopped in mid-stride, and he wondered. Then slowly he made his way to catch the later flight with that question burning and bouncing about in his soul: “Are you Jesus?”

Do people mistake you for Jesus? That’s our destiny, is it not? To be so much like Jesus that people cannot tell the difference as we live and interact with a world that is blind to His love, life and grace. If we claim to know Him, we should live, walk and act as He would. Knowing Him is more than simply quoting Scripture and going to church. It’s actually living the Word as life unfolds day to day.

You are the apple of His eye even though we, too, have been bruised by the fall. He stopped what He was doing and picked you and me up on a hill called Calvary and paid in full for our damaged fruit.

Celebration of Life

Author Unknown

On my way home from coaching basketball yesterday, I was listening to WGN; my favorite talk radio station out of Chicago. I could tell right away that there was something wrong by the somber mood of the speaker. There had been a plane crash. Two small planes collided into each other over a northern suburb of Chicago. What made the story hit close to home was that Bob Collins, the morning show man for WGN, was the pilot of one of the planes and had been killed. (I’m sure that many readers have tuned in “Uncle Bobby” on their car radios in the Midwest.) Later that night, as I made my 40 minute drive to my third shift job, I listened as the station reminisced and paid tribute to a man who was loved by many. They told story after story, describing him as the ultimate friend, and a man who had lived life to the fullest. Genuine love and affection poured in from all over the country. The more I listened about how this man had influenced those around him, the more discouraged I became.

Why you ask?

I was discouraged because I wanted to know why we as a culture, wait until somebody has passed away before we tell them how much we love them? Why do we wait until someone’s ears can’t hear before we let them how much they mean to us? Why do we wait until it is too late before we recall the good qualities of a person? Why do we build someone up after they have gone into eternity? What good does it do then! We share memory after memory, as we laugh, cry, and think back about what was positive in a person’s life. Yes, it does help us cope with the grief of losing someone that was special to us. And yes it does bring those who are coping, closer together. But as we lovingly remember this person, our words fall short of the ears that most needed to hear them.

Just once I would like to see a celebration of life, instead of a gathering of death. A celebration where stories are told, eyes mist over, laughter rings out; and as the speaker concludes his or her loving tribute, the person they are honoring rises from their chair and gives them the biggest bear hug! Wouldn’t that be something! The special person gets to hear the stories and come to the realization that they have made a difference on this earth. And all this is done well before they leave their earthly bodies and go into eternity. And when the inevitable funeral finally comes, we can say good bye with the knowledge that they knew exactly how people felt about them while they were here on earth.

I now have a stronger resolve to tell those around me how much they mean to me. I am going to let my wife know just how loved and appreciated she is, not only by my words, but also by my actions. I am going to play Batman with my four year old more often, and in the middle of our romping, I am going to grab him, hug him tightly, and tell him how thankful I am that he is my son. I am going to sneak into my sleeping toddler’s bedroom, place my lips on his chubby cheek, and thank God for the bundle of joy he has brought into my life. Each day I will make a point to tell both of my boys how much I love them, whether they are four or eighteen! From there, I am going to let family and friends know the tremendous impact they have had on my life. And last but not least, I am going to let the high school players I coach know that I look forward to each and every minute that I get to spend with them in the gym.

Do you love someone? Then tell them! Has someone been an influence in your life? Then give them a call! Has someone made a difference in your life? Then write them a letter or send them an email! Don’t let another day go by without letting that person know. There is something special about a written letter that expresses feelings of love towards another. I don’t know about you, but I have letters and cards from people that I have saved for years, and from time to time, I get them out and reread them. They can turn a depressing day into one where you realize just how blessed and loved you are.

Life is too short to leave kind words unsaid. The words you say, or the letter you write, might just make all the difference in the world.


Did you know ?

  • A pregnant goldfish is called a twit 
  • A quarter of raw potato placed in each shoe at night will keep the leather soft and the shoes smelling fresh and clean. 
  • A quarter of the horses in the US died of a vast virus epidemic in 1872. 
  • A state law in Illinois mandates that all bachelors should be called master, not mister, when addressed by their female counterparts. 
  • A word or sentence that is the same front and back (racecar, kayak) is called a "palindrome".  
  • A young lady named Ellen Church convinced Boeing Air Transport that her nursing skills and love of flying would qualify her to assist with the passengers and emergencies. She became the first known stewardess. 
  • A zebra is white with black stripes. 
  • ABBA GOLD has been in the UK charts for over 280 weeks, thats over 5 years 
  • Abdul Kassam Ismael, Grand Vizier of Persia in the tenth century, carried his library with him wherever he went. Four hundred camels carried the 117,000 volumes. 
  • Abe Lincoln's mother died when the family dairy cow ate poisonous mushrooms and Ms. Lincoln drank the milk. 
  • About 10% of the world's population is left-handed.

Just for laughs

Our children's Sunday School classes were presenting their end of the year program for the congregation - telling about the life of Jesus.

When it came to the part about Jesus' miracles, one little boy said, "Yes, Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead!" The teacher urged him to tell us more.

He said, "Well, Jesus told them to open the tomb, and then He said, 'Lazarus, come out!' And it's a good thing he didn't just say 'Come out!' because there would have been a stampede of dead guys."

Needless to say our congregation enjoyed the presentation very much. 


BEN-HUR: A TALE OF THE CHRIST 

by Lew Wallace

Part Five 

Messala sends a letter to Valerius Gratus about his discovery that Judah is alive and well, however Sheik Ilderim intercepts the letter and shares its contents with Judah. He discovers that his mother and sister were imprisoned in a cell at the Antonia Fortress and Messala has been spying on him.

Ilderim is deeply impressed with Judah's skills with his racing horses and is pleased to choose him as charioteer.

Simonides the merchant comes to Judah and offers him the accumulated fortune of the Hur family business, of which Simonides has been steward. Judah Ben-Hur accepts only the money, leaving property and the rest to the loyal merchant. They each agree to do their part to fight for the Christ, whom they believe to be a political savior from Roman authority.

A day before the race Ilderim prepared his horses and Judah appoints Malluch to organize his support campaign for him. Meanwhile, Messala organizes his own huge campaign, revealing Judah Ben-Hur's real identity to the world as an outcast and convict. Malluch challenges Messala and his cronies to a vast wager, which, if the Roman loses, would bankrupt him.

The day of the race comes. During the race Messala and Judah become the clear leaders. Judah deliberately scrapes his chariot wheel against Messala's and Messala's chariot breaks apart. Judah is crowned winner and showered with prizes, claiming his first strike against Rome.

After the race, Judah Ben-Hur receives a letter from Iras asking him to go to the Roman palace of Idernee. When he arrives there, he sees that he has been tricked. Thord, a Saxon, hired by Messala, comes to kill Judah. They duel, but before it is over Ben-Hur offers Thord four thousand sestercii to let him live. Thord returns to Messala claiming he has killed Judah - so collecting money from both Messala and Judah, returning to Rome to open a wine shop. Being supposedly dead, Judah Ben-Hur goes to the desert with Ilderim to plan a secret campaign.

PART V - CHAPTER XIV continued

First, the Sidonian gave the scourge to his four, and, smarting with fear and pain, they dashed desperately forward, promising for a brief time to go to the front. The effort ended in promise. Next, the Byzantine and the Corinthian each made the trial with like result, after which they were practically out of the race. Thereupon, with a readiness
perfectly explicable, all the factions except the Romans joined hope in Ben-Hur, and openly indulged their feeling.

"Ben-Hur! Ben-Hur!" they shouted, and the blent voices of the many rolled overwhelmingly against the consular stand.

From the benches above him as he passed, the favor descended in fierce injunctions.

"Speed thee, Jew!"

"Take the wall now!"

"On! loose the Arabs! Give them rein and scourge!"

"Let him not have the turn on thee again. Now or never!"

Over the balustrade they stooped low, stretching their hands imploringly to him.

Either he did not hear, or could not do better, for halfway round the course and he was still following; at the second goal even still no change!

And now, to make the turn, Messala began to draw in his left-hand steeds, an act which necessarily slackened their speed. His spirit was high; more than one altar was richer of his vows; the Roman genius was still president. On the three pillars only six hundred feet away were fame, increase of fortune, promotions, and a triumph ineffably sweetened by hate, all in store for him! That moment Malluch, in the gallery, saw Ben-Hur lean forward over his Arabs, and give them the reins. Out flew the many-folded lash in his hand; over the backs
of the startled steeds it writhed and hissed, and hissed and writhedagain and again; and though it fell not, there were both sting and menace in its quick report; and as the man passed thus from quiet to resistless action, his face suffused, his eyes gleaming, along the
reins he seemed to flash his will; and instantly not one, but the four as one, answered with a leap that landed them alongside the Roman's car. Messala, on the perilous edge of the goal, heard, but dared not look to see what the awakening portended. From the people he received no sign. Above the noises of the race there was but one voice, and that was Ben-Hur's. In the old Aramaic, as the sheik himself, he called to the Arabs,

"On, Atair! On, Rigel! What, Antares! dost thou linger now? Good horse--oho, Aldebaran! I hear them singing in the tents. I hear the children singing and the women--singing of the stars, of Atair, Antares, Rigel, Aldebaran, victory!--and the song will never end. Well done! Home to-morrow, under the black tent--home! On, Antares! The tribe is waiting for us, and the master is waiting!

'Tis done! 'tis done! Ha, ha! We have overthrown the proud. The hand that smote us is in the dust. Ours the glory! Ha, ha!--steady! The work is done--soho! Rest!"

There had never been anything of the kind more simple; seldom anything so instantaneous.

At the moment chosen for the dash, Messala was moving in a circle round the goal. To pass him, Ben-Hur had to cross the track, and good strategy required the movement to be in a forward direction; that is, on a like circle limited to the least possible increase.

The thousands on the benches understood it all: they saw the signal given--the magnificent response; the four close outside Messala's outer wheel; Ben-Hur's inner wheel behind the other's car--all this they saw. Then they heard a crash loud enough to send a thrill through the Circus, and, quicker than thought, out over the course a spray of shining white and yellow flinders flew. Down on its right side toppled the bed of the Roman's chariot. There was a rebound as of the axle hitting the hard earth; another and another; then the car went to pieces; and Messala, entangled in the reins, pitched forward headlong.

To increase the horror of the sight by making death certain, the Sidonian, who had the wall next behind, could not stop or turn out. Into the wreck full speed he drove; then over the Roman, and into the latter's four, all mad with fear. Presently, out of the turmoil, the fighting of horses, the resound of blows, the murky cloud of dust and sand, he crawled, in time to see the Corinthian and Byzantine go on down the course after Ben-Hur, who had not been an instant delayed.

The people arose, and leaped upon the benches, and shouted and screamed. Those who looked that way caught glimpses of Messala, now under the trampling of the fours, now under the abandoned cars. He was still; they thought him dead; but far the greater number followed Ben-Hur in his career. They had not seen the cunning touch of the reins by
which, turning a little to the left, he caught Messala's wheel with the iron-shod point of his axle, and crushed it; but they had seen the transformation of the man, and themselves felt the heat and glow of his spirit, the heroic resolution, the maddening energy of action with which, by look, word, and gesture, he so suddenly inspired his Arabs. And such running! It was rather the long leaping of lions in harness; but for the lumbering chariot, it seemed the
four were flying. When the Byzantine and Corinthian were halfway down the course, Ben-Hur turned the first goal.

AND THE RACE WAS WON!

The consul arose; the people shouted themselves hoarse; the editor came down from his seat, and crowned the victors.

The fortunate man among the boxers was a low-browed, yellow-haired Saxon, of such brutalized face as to attract a second look from Ben-Hur, who recognized a teacher with whom he himself had been a favorite at Rome. From him the young Jew looked up and beheld Simonides and his party on the balcony. They waved their hands to him. Esther kept her seat; but Iras arose, and gave him a smile and a wave of her fan--favors not the less intoxicating to him because we know, O reader, they would have fallen to Messala
had he been the victor.

The procession was then formed, and, midst the shouting of the multitude which had had its will, passed out of the Gate of Triumph.

And the day was over.

to be continued


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