A story about you

What a story!

*As a carpenter went home after shutting down his workshop, a black poisonous cobra entered his workshop.*

_The cobra was hungry and hoped to find its supper lurking somewhere within. It slithered from one end to another and accidentally bumped into a double-edged metal axe and got very slightly injured._

*In anger and seeking revenge, the snake bit the axe with full force. What could a bite do to a metallic axe? Instead the cobra's mouth started bleeding.*

_Out of fury and arrogance, the cobra tried its best to strangle and kill the object that was causing it pain by wrapping itself very tightly around the blades._

*The next day when the carpenter opened the workshop, he found a seriously cut, dead cobra wrapped around the axe blades.*

_The cobra died not because of someone else's fault but faced these consequences merely because of its own anger and wrath._

*Sometimes when angry, we try to cause harm to others but as time passes by, we realise that we have caused more harm to ourselves.*

_For a happy life, it's best we should learn to ignore and overlook some things, people, incidents, affairs and matters._

*It is not necessary that we show a reaction to everything. Step back and ask yourself if the matter is really worth responding or reacting to.*

Treat people with kindness even if they hurt you.

_People that show no inclination to change, are best handled with silence and prayer._

*THIS is really a touching story and could  help us take some good decisions*

The lost wallet, a great love story!

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.

        The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline–1924. The letter had been written almost 60 years ago.

        It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a “Dear John” letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him anymore because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him.

        It was signed, Hannah.

        It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.

        “Operator,” I began, “this is an unusual request. I’m trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?”

        She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, “Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can’t give you the number.” She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me.

        I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. “I have a party who will speak with you.”

        I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, “Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!”

        “Would you know where that family could be located now?” I asked.

        “I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago,” the woman said. “Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter.”

        She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living.

        I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.

        This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?

        Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, “Yes, Hannah is staying with us.”

        Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. “Well,” he said hesitatingly, “if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television.”

        I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.

        She was a sweet, silver-haired oldtimer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, “Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael.”

        She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said softly, “I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor.”

        “Yes,” she continued. “Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And,” she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, “tell him I still love him. You know,” she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, “I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael…”

        I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, “Was the old lady able to help you?”

        I told him she had given me a lead. “At least I have a last name. But I think I’ll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet.”

        I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, “Hey, wait a minute! That’s Mr. Goldstein’s wallet. I’d know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He’s always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times.”

        “Who’s Mr. Goldstein?” I asked as my hand began to shake.

        “He’s one of the oldtimers on the 8th floor. That’s Mike Goldstein’s wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks.” I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse’s office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.

        On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, “I think he’s still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He’s a darling old man.”

        We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, “Oh, it is missing!”

        “This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?”

        I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, “Yes, that’s it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward.”

        “No, thank you,” I said. “But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet.”

        The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. “You read that letter?”

        “Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is.”

        He suddenly grew pale. “Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me,” he begged.

        “She’s fine…just as pretty as when you knew her.” I said softly.

        The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, “Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow.” He grabbed my hand and said, “You know something, Mister? I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I’ve always loved her.”

        “Mr. Goldstein,” I said, “Come with me.”

        We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.

        “Hannah,” she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. “Do you know this man?”

        She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn’t say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, “Hannah, it’s Michael. Do you remember me?”

        She gasped, “Michael! I don’t believe it! Michael! It’s you! My Michael!” He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.

        “See,” I said. “See how the Good Lord works! If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

        About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. “Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!”

        It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man.

        The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.

        A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.

Success Depends On Maturity!

Maturity is many things. It is the ability to base a judgment on the big picture, the long haul.

        It means being able to resist the urge for immediate gratification and opt for the course of action that will pay off later.

        One of the characteristics of the young is “I want it now.”

        Grown-up people can wait.

        Maturity is perseverance–the ability to sweat out a project or a situation, in spite of heavy opposition and discouraging setbacks, and stick with it until it is finished.

        The adult who is constantly changing friends and changing mates is immature. He/she cannot stick it out because he/she has not grown up.

        Maturity is the ability to control anger and settle differences without violence or destruction. The mature person can face unpleasantness, frustration, discomfort and defeat without collapsing or complaining. He/she knows he cannot have everything his/her own way every time. He/she is able to defer to circumstances, to other people-and to time. He/she knows when to compromise and is not too proud to do so.

        Maturity is humility. It is being big enough to say, “I was wrong.” And, when he/she is right, the mature person need not experience the satisfaction of saying, “I told you so.”

        Maturity is the ability to live up to your responsibilities, and this means being dependable. It means keeping your word. Dependability is the hallmark of integrity. Do you mean what you say-and do you say what you mean? Unfortunately, the world is filled with people who cannot be counted on. When you need them most, they are among the missing. They never seem to come through in the clutches. They break promises and substitute alibis for performance. They show up late or not at all. They are confused and disorganized. Their lives are a chaotic maze of broken promises, former friends, unfinished business and good intentions that somehow never materialize. They are always a day late and a dollar short.

        Maturity is the ability to make a decision and stand by it. Immature people spend their lives exploring endless possibilities and then doing nothing. Action requires courage. Without courage, little is accomplished.

        Maturity is the ability to harness your abilities and your energies and do more than is expected. The mature person refuses to settle for mediocrity. He/she would rather aim high and miss the mark than low-and make it.

        Maturity is the art of living in peace with that which cannot be changed, the courage to change that which should be changed, no matter what it takes, and the wisdom to know the difference.

        By Ann landers

The Fat Lady

Hi! How are you?” The woman smiled as she took the seat beside me. She had to lower herself slowly, squeezing her ample bottom into the seat, filling all available space.

        Positioning herself comfortably, she plopped her enormous arm on our common armrest. Her immensity saturated the space around us, shrinking me and my seat into insignificance.

        I cringed and reclined towards the window.

        She leaned towards me and repeated her greeting in an upbeat, friendly voice. Her face towered above my head, forcing me to turn to look at her. “Hi,” I replied with obvious loathing.

        I turned away to stare out the cabin window, sulking silently about the long hours of discomfort I was going to experience with this monster beside me.

        She nudged me with her meaty arm. “My name is Laura. I’m from Britain. How about you? Japan?”

        “Malaysia,” I barked.

        “I’m so sorry! Will you accept my heartfelt apology? Come, shake my hand. If we’re going to spend six hours side-by-side on this flight, we’d better be friends, don’t you think?” A palm waved in front of my face. I shook the hand reluctantly, still silent.

        Laura started a conversation with me, taking no notice of my unfriendly reactions. She talked excitedly about herself and her trip to Hong Kong to see her frinds. She rattled off a list of things she was going to buy for her students in the boarding school where she was teaching.

        I gave her one-word answers to her questions about me. Unperturbed by my coldness, she nodded as she made appreciative comments to my answers. Her voice was warm and caring. She was considerate and obliging when we were served drinks and meals, making sure that I had room to manoeuvre in my seat. “I don’t want to clobber you with my elephant size!” she said with utmost sincerity.

        To my surprise, her face which repulsed me hours before, now opened into extraordinary smiles, lively and calm at the same time. I couldn’t help but let down my guard slowly.

        Laura was an interesting conversationalist. She was well read in many subjects from philosophy to science. She turned a seemingly unimportant subject into something to explore and understand. Her comments were humorous and inspirational. When our topic turned to cultures, I was pleasantly surprised by her intelligent comments and well-thought-out analysis.

        During our conversation, Laura managed to make every cabin crew who served us walk away laughing at her jokes.

        When a flight attendant was clearing our plates, Laura cracked several jokes about her size. The flight attendant roared with laughter as she grabbed Laura’s hand, “You really make my day!”

        For the next few minutes, Laura listened attentively and gave pointers to the flight attendant’s weight problem. The grateful attendant said before she rushed off, “I’ve got to work. I’ll come back later and talk to you about it.”

        I asked Laura, “‘Have you ever thought about losing some weight?”

        “No. I’ve worked hard to get this way. Why would I want to give it up?”

        “You aren’t worried about cardiovascular diseases that come with being overweight?”

        “Not at all. You only get the diseases if you’re worried about your weight all the time. You see advertisements from slimming centres that say, ‘Liberate yourself from your extra baggage so that you are free to be yourself.’ It’s rubbish! You’re liberated only if you’re comfortable about who you are, and what you look like any time of the day and anytime of the year! Why would I want to waste my time on slimming regimes when I have so many other important things to do and so many people to be friends with? I eat healthily and walk regularly; I’m this size because I am born to be big! There is more to life than worrying about weight all day long.”

        She sipped at her wine. “Besides, God gives me so much happiness that I need a bigger body to hold all of it! Why would I lose weight to lose my happiness?” Taken aback by her reasoning, I chuckled.

        Laura continued. “Folks often see me as a fat lady with big bosoms, big thighs and a big bottom that no man would even bother to cast a glance at. They see me as a slob. They think I’m lazy and have no willpower. They’re wrong.” She held up her glass to a passing flight attendant. “More of this magnificent wine, please.” She smiled sweetly at the attendant. “Great service from your crew. May God bless all of you.”

        She turned to me, “I’m actually a slim person inside. I’m so full of energy that people won’t be able to keep up with me. This extra flesh is here to slow me down, otherwise I’ll be running everywhere chasing after men!”

        “Do men chase after you?” I asked jokingly.

        “Of course they do. I’m happily married but men still keep proposing to me.

        “Most of them have relationship problems and they need someone to confide in. For some reason, they like to talk to me. I think I should have been a counsellor instead of a school teacher!”

        Laura paused before she said thoughtfully, “You know, the relationship between men and women is so complicated. Women worship men and call them, ‘Honey’ until they find out they have been lied to, and then they turn into bitter gourds! Men love women so much that they see them as their soul mates until they look at their credit card bills, and then women become devils with tridents!”

        Laura’s enthralling conversation had turned the flight into something thoroughly enjoyable. I was also fascinated by the way people were drawn to her. By the end of the flight, almost half the cabin crew was standing near the aisle by us, laughing and joking with Laura. The passengers around us joined in the merry-making too. Laura was the centre of attention, filling the cabin with delightful warmth.

        When we waved goodbye to each other at the arrival lounge at Hong Kong’s Kai Tak Airport, I watched her walking towards a big group of adoring adults and kids. Cheers sounded as the group hugged and kissed Laura. She turned around and winked at me.

        I was stunned, as the realisation set in: Laura was the most beautiful woman I had ever met in my life.

        By Chong Sheau Ching

Learn From Mistakes

Thomas Edison tried two thousand different materials in search of a filament for the light bulb. When none worked satisfactorily, his assistant complained, “All our work is in vain. We have learned nothing.”

        Edison replied very confidently, “Oh, we have come a long way and we have learned a lot. We know that there are two thousand elements which we cannot use to make a good light bulb.”

I Have Learned...

I’ve learned-

        that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them.
        I’ve learned-

        that no matter how much I care, some people just don’t care back.
        I’ve learned-

        that it takes years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it.
        I’ve learned-

        that no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
        I’ve learned-

        that it’s not what you have in your life but who you have in your life that counts.
        I’ve learned-

        that you should never ruin an apology with an excuse.
        I’ve learned-

        that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you’d better know something.
        I’ve learned-

        that you shouldn’t compare yourself to the best others can do.
        I’ve learned-

        that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.
        I’ve learned-

        that it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
        I’ve learned-

        that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.
        I’ve learned-

        that you can keep going long after you can’t.
        I’ve learned-

        that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.
        I’ve learned-

        that either you control your attitude or it controls you.
        I’ve learned-

        that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.
        I’ve learned-

        that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.
        I’ve learned-

        that money is a lousy way of keeping score.
        I’ve learned-

        that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.
        I’ve learned-

        that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you’re down will be the ones to help you get back up.
        I’ve learned-

        that sometimes when I’m angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn’t give me the right to be cruel.
        I’ve learned-

        that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.
        I’ve learned-

        that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.
        I’ve learned-

        that maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you’ve celebrated.
        I’ve learned-

        that you should never tell a child their dreams are unlikely or outlandish. Few things are more humiliating, and what a tragedy it would be if they believed it.
        I’ve learned-

        that your family won’t always be there for you. It may seem funny, but people you aren’t related to can take care of you and love you and teach you to trust people again. Families aren’t biological.
        I’ve learned-

        that it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you are to learn to forgive yourself.
        I’ve learned-

        that no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn’t stop for your grief.
        I’ve learned-

        that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
        I’ve learned-

        that a rich person is not the one who has the most, but is one who needs the least.
        I’ve learned-

        that just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. And just because they don’t argue, it doesn’t mean they do.
        I’ve learned-

        that we don’t have to change friends if we understand that friends change.
        I’ve learned-

        that you shouldn’t be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.
        I’ve learned-

        that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
        I’ve learned-

        that no matter how you try to protect your children, they will eventually get hurt and you will hurt in the process.
        I’ve learned-

        that even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.
        I’ve learned-

        that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.
        I’ve learned-

        that the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.
        I’ve learned-

        that it’s hard to determine where to draw the line between being nice and not hurting people’s feelings, and standing up for what you believe.
        I’ve learned-

        that people will forget what you said, and people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
        By Omer B. Washington

Let go of your Stresses!

A psychologist walked around a room while teaching stress management to an audience. As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the “half empty or half full” question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired: ”How heavy is this glass of water?”

        Answers called out ranged from 8 oz. to 20 oz.

        She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, it’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.”

        She continued, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.”

        It’s important to remember to let go of your stresses. As early in the evening as you can, put all your burdens down. Don’t carry them through the evening and into the night. Remember to put the glass down!

Marriage - Very Touching

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

        Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly.

        She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?

        I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I just pitied her!

        With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company.

        She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

        The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane.

        When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

        In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

        This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day.

        She requested that every day for the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.

        I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.

        My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.

        On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.

        On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.

        On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.

        She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.

        Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.

        Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.

        But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life lacked intimacy.

        I drove to office… jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind… I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.

        She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.

        Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.

        At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.

        That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed – dead.

        My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push thru with the divorce –At least, in the eyes of our son— I’m a loving husband…

        The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. Do have a real happy marriage!

A bowl of noodles from a stranger

That night, Sue quarreled with her mother, then stormed out of the house. While enroute, she remembered that she did not have any money in her pocket, she did not even have enough coins to make a phone call home.

        At the same time, she went through a noodle shop, picking up sweet fragrance, she suddenly felt very hungry. She wished for a bowl of noodles, but she had no money!

        The seller saw her standing wheat faltered before the counter and asked:

        - Hey little girl, you want to eat a bowl?

        - But … but I do not carry money … she shyly replied.

        - Okay, I’ll treat you – the seller said – come in, I will cook you a bowl.

        A few minutes later the owner brought her a steaming bowl of noodles. Ate some pieces, Sue cried.

        - What is it? – He asked.

        - Nothing. I am just touched by your kindness! – Sue said as she wiped her tears.

        - Even a stranger on the street gives me a bowl of noodles, and my mother, after a quarrel, chased me out of the house. She is cruel!!

        The seller sighed:

        - Girl, why did you think so? Think again. I only gave you a bowl of noodles and you felt that way. Your mother had raised you since you were little, why were you not grateful and disobeyed your mom?

        Sue was really surprised after hearing that.

        “Why did I not think of that? A bowl of noodles from a stranger made me feel indebted, and my mother has raised me since I was little and I have never felt so, even a little.”

        On the way home, Sue thought in her head what she would say to her mother when she arrives home: “Mom, I’m sorry. I know it is my fault, please forgive me … ”

        Once up the steps, Sue saw her mother worried and tired of looking for her everywhere. Upon seeing Sue, her mother gently said: “Sue, come inside honey. You are probably very hungry? I cooked rice and prepared the meal already, come eat while it is still hot …”

        Can not control any longer, Sue cried in her mom’s hands.

        In life, we sometimes easy to appreciate the small actions of some people around us, but for the relatives, especially parents, we see their sacrifices as a matter of natural …

        Parental love and concern are the most precious gifts we have been given since birth.

        Parents do not expect us to pay back for nurturing us …… but have we ever appreciated or treasure the unconditional sacrifice of our parents?

        Translated from a Vietnamese story by Tina

The story of a woodcutter

Once upon a time, a very strong woodcutter asked for a job in a timber merchant and he got it. The pay was really good and so was the work condition. For those reasons, the woodcutter was determined to do his best.

        His boss gave him an axe and showed him the area where he supposed to work.

        The first day, the woodcutter brought 18 trees.

        “Congratulations,” the boss said. “Go on that way!”

        Very motivated by the boss words, the woodcutter tried harder the next day, but he could only bring 15 trees. The third day he tried even harder, but he could only bring 10 trees. Day after day he was bringing less and less trees.

        “I must be losing my strength”, the woodcutter thought. He went to the boss and apologized, saying that he could not understand what was going on.

        “When was the last time you sharpened your axe?” the boss asked.

        “Sharpen? I had no time to sharpen my axe. I have been very busy trying to cut trees…”



        Reflection:

        Our lives are like that. We sometimes get so busy that we don’t take time to sharpen the “axe”. In today’s world, it seems that everyone is busier than ever, but less happy that ever.

        Why is that? Could it be that we have forgotten how to stay “sharp”? There’s nothing wrong with activity and hard work. But we should not get so busy that we neglect the truly important things in life, like our personal life, taking time to get close to our Creator, giving more time for our family, taking time to read etc.

        We all need time to relax, to think and meditate, to learn and grow. If we don’t take the time to sharpen the “axe”, we will become dull and lose our effectiveness.

        Author: Stephen Covey
        From: 7 Habits of Highly Effective People