THE WONDERFUL ROSE

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know.

 

I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder.I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being....

 

She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?" 

 

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course, you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze....

 

"Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked.

 

She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids..."

 

"No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age. 

 

"I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me. 

 

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. 

 

We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk non-stop. I was always mesmerized listening to this 'time machine' as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.... 

 

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she revelled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up. 

 

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. 

 

Frustrated and a little embarrassed, she leaned into the microphone and simply said, "I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know."

 

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, "We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.

 

There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. 

 

You have to laugh and find humour every day.

 

You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. 

 

We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!

There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. 

 

If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight. 

 

Anybody! Can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. 

 

The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change.

 

Have no regrets. 

 

The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do.

 

The only people who fear death are those with regrets...."

 

She concluded her speech by courageously singing 'The Rose.' 

 

She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. 

 

At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those months ago. 

 

One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep. 

 

Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be. 

 

REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL.

 

We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give. 

 

God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it. 

 

Good friends are like stars.......You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.

 

THE TRUE FACE OF GOD

It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But, severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon ... we would lose everything.

It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers, when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth, but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort...trying to be as still as possible.

Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he had been doing was completed.

Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods, run back to the house. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer and I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking up on him).

He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very careful not to spill the water he held in them...maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face, but he did not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But, the buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its' head with great effort to lap up the water, cupped in my beautiful boy's hand.

When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house; to a spigot that we had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back. And it came clear to me. The trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me to help him. It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said.

As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known working so hard to save another life. As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops...and more drops...and more. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God himself, was weeping with pride.

Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. That miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that...I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm...just like the actions of one little boy saved another.

To honor the memory of my beautiful Billy,

who was taken from me much too soon.

But not before showing me the true face of God,

in a little sunburned body. 

 

THINGS ARE ONLY MEANT TO BE USED

A man was polishing his new car as his 4 year-old son was play around. Soon, his son picked up a stone and made scratches on the side of the car. In anger, the man took the child's hand and hit it many times; not realizing he was using a wrench.



The son had to be rushed to a hospital. But the child lost all his fingers due to multiple fractures. When the child saw his father - with painful eyes, he asked, "Dad, when will my fingers grow back?"



The man was so hurt and remained speechless. He went to the place where his car was parked and kicked it many times over. Devastated by his own action, and so full of remorse, he looked at the scratches and saw what his son had written: "LOVE YOU, DAD".



Anger and love have no limits,

choose the latter to have a beautiful, lovely life.....

Things are to be used and people are to be loved,

but the problem in today's world is that people are used and things are loved...



Be sure to keep this thought in mind:

Things are to be used and people are to be loved....





Watch your thoughts; they become words.

Watch your words; they become actions.

Watch your actions; they become habits.

Watch your habits they become character;

Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.



 

JUST A HUMBLE APPEAL 

As the father of four young girls, I was shaken the first time I read this story. I look at my daughters and tears started rolling down my cheeks. I said a simple prayer:

Lord, teach me to tame my temper,

help me to control my anger, always,

and be not hasty like the father in this story.

Give me the wisdom to discern what's right and wrong,

when to discipline and how far I should go.

In Jesus' name, Amen!

I'm so glad I found this story....

In a way I think it helped me to be a better father. I believe there are many parents out there who will benefit a great deal from this story. When you are through reading this story, please take the time to share it with someone.

If you don't pass this on to anybody, nothing bad will happen; if you do, you will have ministered to someone.