Thử dịch những mẩu chuyện nhỏ các bạn ơi!!! Mục lục trang 1

ok luon, chiu` theo be' Britney chi post truyen nay` con` dinh? hon truyen truoc', hic' rat la` emotional, nhung ma lan` nay` ko duoc word by word dau day nha' ,hi`hi`

The christmas presents​

O.Henry​

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. Every day, when she went to the shops, she spent very little money. She bought the cheapest meat, the cheapest vegetables. And when she was tired, she still walked round and round the shop to find the cheapest food. She saved every cent possible.
Della counted the money again. There was no mistake. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And the next day was Christmas. She couldn??Tt do anything about it. She could only sit down and cry. So she sat there, in the poor little room, and she cried.
Della lived in this poor little room, in New York, with her husband, James Dillingham Young. They also had a bedroom, and a kitchen and a bathroom ??" all poor little rooms. James Dillingham Young was lucky, because he has a job, but it was not a good job. These rooms took most of his money. Della tried to find work, but times were bad, and there was no work for her. But when Mr James Dillingham Young came home to his rooms, Mrs James Dillingham Young called him ??~Jim??T and put her arms round him. And that was good.
Della stopped crying and she washed her face. She stood by the window, and looked out at a grey cat on a grey wall in the grey road. Tomorrow was Christmas Day, and she had only one dollar and eighty-seven cents to buy Jim a Christmas present. Her Jim. She wanted very much to buy him something really fine, something to show how much she loved him.
Suddenly, Della turned round and ran over to look in the glass on the wall. Her eyes were bright.
Now, the James Dillingham Youngs had two very speacial things. One was Jim??Ts gold watch. It once belinged to his father, and, before that, to his grandfather. The other speacial thing was Dellâ?Ts hair.
Quickly, Della let down her beautiful, long hair. It fell down her back, and it was almost like a coat around her. Then she put her hair up again, quickly. For a second or two she stood still, and cried a little.
Then she put on her old brown coat, and her old brown hat, turned, and left the room. She went downstairs and out into the road, and her eyes were bright.
She walked along by the shops, and stopped when she came to a door with:??TMadame Eloise ??" Hair??T on it. Inside there was a fat woman. She did not look like an ??oEloisê??
???Will you buy my hair???? Della asked.
??oI buy hair???_Madame replied. ??otake your hat off, then, and show me your hair.???
The beautiful brown hair fell down.
??oTwenty dollars???, Madame said, and she touched the hair with her hand.
??oQuick! Cut it off! give me the money!??? Della said.
The next two hours went quickly. Della was happy because she was looking round the shops for Jim??Ts present
At last she found it. It was a gold chain for The Watch. Jim loved his watch, but it has no chain. When Della saw this gold chain, she knew immediately that it was right for Jim. She must have it.
The shop took twenty-one dollars from her for it, and she hurried home witgh the eighty-seven cents.
When she arrived there, she looked at her very short hair in the glass. ??o What can I do with it???? she thought. for the next half an hour she was very busy.
Then she looked again in the glass. Her hair was now in very small curls all over her head. ??oOh, dear. I look like a schoolgirl!??? She said to herself.???What??Ts Jim going to say when he sees me????
At seven ô?Tclock the dinner was nearly ready and Della was waiting. ??oOh, I hope he thinks that I??Tm still beautiful!??? she thought.
The door opened and Jim came in and closed it. he looked very thin and he needed a new coat. His eyes were on Della. She could not understand the look in his face, and she was afraid. He was not angry or surprised. He just watched her, with that strange look on his face.
Della ran to him.
??oJim??? she cried. ??oDon??Tt look at me like that. I sold my hair because I wanted to give you a present. It will soon be lonf again. I had to do it, Jim. Say??? happy christmas???, please. I have a wonderful present for you!???
??o You??Tve cut off your hair???? asked Jim.
??oYes. I cut it off and sold it??? Della said. ??o but don??Tt you love me any more, Jim? I??Tm still mê??
Jim looked round the room.
??oYou say your hair has gone???? he said, almost stupidly.
??oYes, I told you. Because I love you! Shall I get the dinner now, Jim????
Suddenly Jim put his arms round Della. Then he took something from his pocket and put it on the table.
??o I love you, Dellâ?? he said.??? It doesn??Tt matter if your hair is short or long. But if you open that, you??Tll see why I was unhappy at first.???
Exited, Della pulled off the paper. Then she gave a little scream of happiness. But a second later there were cries of unhappiness.
Because there were The Coms ??" the combs for her beautiful hair. When she first saw these combs in the shop window, she wanted them. They were beautiful combs, expensive combs, and now they were her combs. But she no longer had her hair!
Della picked them up and held them. Her eyes were full of love.
??oBut my hair will soon be long again, Jim.???
And then Della remembered. She jumped up and cried,??? Oh!Oh!??? She ran to get Jim??Ts beautiful present, and she held it out to him.
??oIsn??Tt it lovely, Jim? I looked everywhere for it. Now you??Tll want to look at your watcj a hundred times a day. Give it to me! Give me your watch, Jim! Let??Ts see it with its new chain.???
But Jim do not do this. he sat down, put his hand behind his head, and he smiled.
??oDella.??? he said. ??o Let??Ts keep our presents for a time. They??Tre so nice. You see, I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. and now, let??Ts have dinner.???
And this was a story of two young people who were very much in love!

Yesterday is history​

Tomorrow is a miracle​

and today is a present of life​

that??Ts why we call it : present!​

about the author: O.Henry _(1862??"1910) was the pen-name of William sydney Porter, an American writer. Born in North Carolina, he later settle in New York, where he published many collections of his famous short stories.
Chocolate
ĐỈ?ợc sửa chữa bởi - chocolatemilk vào 25/05/2002 10:33

Hearts and Hands
(O.Henry)
At Denver there was an influx of passengers into the coaches on the eastbound B. & M. express. In one coach there sat a very pretty young woman dressed in elegant taste and surrounded by all the luxurious comforts of an experienced traveler. Among the newcomers were two young men, one of handsome presence with a bold, frank countenance and manner; the other a ruffled, glum-faced person, heavily built and roughly dressed. The two were handcuffed together.
As they passed down the aisle of the coach the only vacant seat offered was a reversed one facing the attractive young woman. Here the linked couple seated themselves. The young woman's glance fell upon them with a distant, swift disinterest; then with a lovely smile brightening her countenance and a tender pink tingeing her rounded cheeks, she held out a little gray-gloved hand. When she spoke her voice, full, sweet, and deliberate, proclaimed that its owner was accustomed to speak and be heard.
"Well, Mr. Easton, if you will make me speak first, I suppose I must. Don't vou ever recognize old friends when you meet them in the West?"
The younger man roused himself sharply at the sound of her voice, seemed to struggle with a slight embarrassment which he threw off instantly, and then clasped her fingers with his left hand.
"It's Miss Fairchild," he said, with a smile. "I'll ask you to excuse the other hand; "it's otherwise engaged just at present."
He slightly raised his right hand, bound at the wrist by the shining "bracelet" to the left one of his companion. The glad look in the girl's eyes slowly changed to a bewildered horror. The glow faded from her cheeks. Her lips parted in a vague, relaxing distress. Easton, with a little laugh, as if amused, was about to speak again when the other forestalled him. The glum-faced man had been watching the girl's countenance with veiled glances from his keen, shrewd eyes.
"You'll excuse me for speaking, miss, but, I see you're acquainted with the marshall here. If you'll ask him to speak a word for me when we get to the pen he'll do it, and it'll make things easier for me there. He's taking me to Leavenworth prison. It's seven years for counterfeiting."
"Oh!" said the girl, with a deep breath and returning color. "So that is what you are doing out here? A marshal!"
"My dear Miss Fairchild," said Easton, calmly, "I had to do something. Money has a way of taking wings unto itself, and you know it takes money to keep step with our crowd in Washington. I saw this opening in the West, and--well, a marshalship isn't quite as high a position as that of ambassador, but--"
"The ambassador," said the girl, warmly, "doesn't call any more. He needn't ever have done so. You ought to know that. And so now you are one of these dashing Western heroes, and you ride and shoot and go into all kinds of dangers. That's different from the Washington life. You have been missed from the old crowd."
The girl's eyes, fascinated, went back, widening a little, to rest upon the glittering handcuffs.
"Don't you worry about them, miss," said the other man. "All marshals handcuff themselves to their prisoners to keep them from getting away. Mr. Easton knows his business."
"Will we see you again soon in Washington?" asked the girl.
"Not soon, I think," said Easton. "My butterfly days are over, I fear."
"I love the West," said the girl irrelevantly. Her eyes were shining softly. She looked away out the car window. She began to speak truly and simply without the gloss of style and manner: "Mamma and I spent the summer in Denver. She went home a week ago because father was slightly ill. I could live and be happy in the West. I think the air here agrees with me. Money isn't everything. But people always misunderstand things and remain stupid--"
"Say, Mr. Marshal," growled the glum-faced man. "This isn't quite fair. I'm needing a drink, and haven't had a smoke all day. Haven't you talked long enough? Take me in the smoker now, won't you? I'm half dead for a pipe."
The bound travelers rose to their feet, Easton with the same slow smile on his face.
"I can't deny a petition for tobacco," he said, lightly. "It's the one friend of the unfortunate. Good-bye, Miss Fairchild. Duty calls, you know." He held out his hand for a farewell.
"It's too bad you are not going East," she said, reclothing herself with manner and style. "But you must go on to Leavenworth, I suppose?"
"Yes," said Easton, "I must go on to Leavenworth."
The two men sidled down the aisle into the smoker.
The two passengers in a seat near by had heard most of the conversation. Said one of them: "That marshal's a good sort of chap. Some of these Western fellows are all right."
"Pretty young to hold an office like that, isn't he?" asked the other.
"Young!" exclaimed the first speaker, "why--Oh! didn't you catch on? Say--did you ever know an officer to handcuff a prisoner to his right hand?"
[red]Tomorrows never die[/red]

Hearts and Hands
(O.Henry)
At Denver there was an influx of passengers into the coaches on the eastbound B. & M. express. In one coach there sat a very pretty young woman dressed in elegant taste and surrounded by all the luxurious comforts of an experienced traveler. Among the newcomers were two young men, one of handsome presence with a bold, frank countenance and manner; the other a ruffled, glum-faced person, heavily built and roughly dressed. The two were handcuffed together.
As they passed down the aisle of the coach the only vacant seat offered was a reversed one facing the attractive young woman. Here the linked couple seated themselves. The young woman's glance fell upon them with a distant, swift disinterest; then with a lovely smile brightening her countenance and a tender pink tingeing her rounded cheeks, she held out a little gray-gloved hand. When she spoke her voice, full, sweet, and deliberate, proclaimed that its owner was accustomed to speak and be heard.
"Well, Mr. Easton, if you will make me speak first, I suppose I must. Don't vou ever recognize old friends when you meet them in the West?"
The younger man roused himself sharply at the sound of her voice, seemed to struggle with a slight embarrassment which he threw off instantly, and then clasped her fingers with his left hand.
"It's Miss Fairchild," he said, with a smile. "I'll ask you to excuse the other hand; "it's otherwise engaged just at present."
He slightly raised his right hand, bound at the wrist by the shining "bracelet" to the left one of his companion. The glad look in the girl's eyes slowly changed to a bewildered horror. The glow faded from her cheeks. Her lips parted in a vague, relaxing distress. Easton, with a little laugh, as if amused, was about to speak again when the other forestalled him. The glum-faced man had been watching the girl's countenance with veiled glances from his keen, shrewd eyes.
"You'll excuse me for speaking, miss, but, I see you're acquainted with the marshall here. If you'll ask him to speak a word for me when we get to the pen he'll do it, and it'll make things easier for me there. He's taking me to Leavenworth prison. It's seven years for counterfeiting."
"Oh!" said the girl, with a deep breath and returning color. "So that is what you are doing out here? A marshal!"
"My dear Miss Fairchild," said Easton, calmly, "I had to do something. Money has a way of taking wings unto itself, and you know it takes money to keep step with our crowd in Washington. I saw this opening in the West, and--well, a marshalship isn't quite as high a position as that of ambassador, but--"
"The ambassador," said the girl, warmly, "doesn't call any more. He needn't ever have done so. You ought to know that. And so now you are one of these dashing Western heroes, and you ride and shoot and go into all kinds of dangers. That's different from the Washington life. You have been missed from the old crowd."
The girl's eyes, fascinated, went back, widening a little, to rest upon the glittering handcuffs.
"Don't you worry about them, miss," said the other man. "All marshals handcuff themselves to their prisoners to keep them from getting away. Mr. Easton knows his business."
"Will we see you again soon in Washington?" asked the girl.
"Not soon, I think," said Easton. "My butterfly days are over, I fear."
"I love the West," said the girl irrelevantly. Her eyes were shining softly. She looked away out the car window. She began to speak truly and simply without the gloss of style and manner: "Mamma and I spent the summer in Denver. She went home a week ago because father was slightly ill. I could live and be happy in the West. I think the air here agrees with me. Money isn't everything. But people always misunderstand things and remain stupid--"
"Say, Mr. Marshal," growled the glum-faced man. "This isn't quite fair. I'm needing a drink, and haven't had a smoke all day. Haven't you talked long enough? Take me in the smoker now, won't you? I'm half dead for a pipe."
The bound travelers rose to their feet, Easton with the same slow smile on his face.
"I can't deny a petition for tobacco," he said, lightly. "It's the one friend of the unfortunate. Good-bye, Miss Fairchild. Duty calls, you know." He held out his hand for a farewell.
"It's too bad you are not going East," she said, reclothing herself with manner and style. "But you must go on to Leavenworth, I suppose?"
"Yes," said Easton, "I must go on to Leavenworth."
The two men sidled down the aisle into the smoker.
The two passengers in a seat near by had heard most of the conversation. Said one of them: "That marshal's a good sort of chap. Some of these Western fellows are all right."
"Pretty young to hold an office like that, isn't he?" asked the other.
"Young!" exclaimed the first speaker, "why--Oh! didn't you catch on? Say--did you ever know an officer to handcuff a prisoner to his right hand?"
[red]Tomorrows never die[/red]

2 guys & gals, PP@V's back
I have another Vietnamese version for "Love Story" (the first story in this thread). I translated this story several months ago and posted it in my own forums, but now I wanna share it with all of you, just b'cuz I've found this great topic and found that there're many guys like this funny style
And now, "taste" it, hehhehe.
Ngày xửa ngày xưa, có 1 hòn đất nơi mà tất cả những Cảm Xúc của con người trú ngụ kể cả Tình Yêu. Một ngày kia, cả đống cảm xúc tả pí lù nhận được thông báo Hòn đảo sẽ chìm vì con người bị tẩu hoả nhập ma bởi cảm xúc lẫn lộn. Vì vậy, mỗi thứ chuẩn bị cho mình 1 con thuyền để biến.
Tình yêu dở hơi cố đợi tới những khắc cuối cùng trên đảo (đây là tình yêu của 1 Titanic's fan ). Chỉ tới khi hòn đảo gần như chìm nghỉm thì TY mới tìm kiếm giúp đỡ. Sự Giàu Có đi ngang qua nó trên một 1 cái thuyền to (). TY gọi:"Êu nhà giàu , cho em đi mới !". SGC đáp :"Không có chỗ cho chú đâu! Thuyền anh trở đầy vàng bạc mất rồi !" (Vậy đấy, đừng ai mong cho Tiền và Tình song hành nhé)
TY lại xin SỰ PHÙ PHIẾM cho đi nhờ khi nó ngang qua trên 1 cái chậu khá đẹp (đừng ai hiểu vessel là thuyền nhé , từ này còn có nghĩa chỉ các đồ chứa rỗng, mà sự phù phiếm thì....) "Bác ơi, cho em đi mới !". "Không đc ! Chú mày ướt nhẹp rồi, hỏng thuyền anh mất !"
Rồi Buồn chảy Nước đến gần, TY lại cầu cứu "Anh giai, em đi cùng cho vui nhé !" "Không đâu, tôi buồn lắm, tôi muốn ở 1 mình." (Thế đấy, khi buồn thì người ta chả thiết gì nữa, kể cả TY)
Rồi Hạnh Phúc cũng ngang qua TY, nhưng nó phê tới mức ko nghe thấy TY gọi. (tôi nghĩ là HP cố tình ko nghe thấy thì đúng hơn, vì HP rất khôn khi bỏ qua TY, chả ai đang sướng lại muốn khổ cả )
Bỗng nhiên 1 giọng nói vang lên "Này TY, để tôi đưa cô đi !". Giọng nói cất lên từ 1 bác già. TY cảm thấy thật đáng nguyền rủa (vâng, blessed còn có nghĩa đó ) nhưng vẫn vui mừng tới mức quên cả việc hỏi tên của bác. Khi cả 2 đã tới 1 hòn đảo ko bị ướt , bác già một mình đi tiếp.
TY lúc đó mới thấy mình nợ bác kia thật nhiều (ng` ta bảo : Tình yêu sòng phẳng, kể cũng ko sai) và tìm tới Cụ Giáo ( hồi đấy hiểu biết nhất đảo) để hỏi :"Ai đã giúp cháu thế ?" "Thời Gian đó !" "Oé, Thời gian á? nhưng tại sao Thời gian lại giúp cháu ?". Cụ Giáo cười 1 phát rất thâm và trả lời "Bởi chỉ có thời gian mới đủ công lực để hiểu TY to thế nào".
Hết.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Welcome to http://genetic.vngate.net/

2 guys & gals, PP@V's back
I have another Vietnamese version for "Love Story" (the first story in this thread). I translated this story several months ago and posted it in my own forums, but now I wanna share it with all of you, just b'cuz I've found this great topic and found that there're many guys like this funny style
And now, "taste" it, hehhehe.
Ngày xửa ngày xưa, có 1 hòn đất nơi mà tất cả những Cảm Xúc của con người trú ngụ kể cả Tình Yêu. Một ngày kia, cả đống cảm xúc tả pí lù nhận được thông báo Hòn đảo sẽ chìm vì con người bị tẩu hoả nhập ma bởi cảm xúc lẫn lộn. Vì vậy, mỗi thứ chuẩn bị cho mình 1 con thuyền để biến.
Tình yêu dở hơi cố đợi tới những khắc cuối cùng trên đảo (đây là tình yêu của 1 Titanic's fan ). Chỉ tới khi hòn đảo gần như chìm nghỉm thì TY mới tìm kiếm giúp đỡ. Sự Giàu Có đi ngang qua nó trên một 1 cái thuyền to (). TY gọi:"Êu nhà giàu , cho em đi mới !". SGC đáp :"Không có chỗ cho chú đâu! Thuyền anh trở đầy vàng bạc mất rồi !" (Vậy đấy, đừng ai mong cho Tiền và Tình song hành nhé)
TY lại xin SỰ PHÙ PHIẾM cho đi nhờ khi nó ngang qua trên 1 cái chậu khá đẹp (đừng ai hiểu vessel là thuyền nhé , từ này còn có nghĩa chỉ các đồ chứa rỗng, mà sự phù phiếm thì....) "Bác ơi, cho em đi mới !". "Không đc ! Chú mày ướt nhẹp rồi, hỏng thuyền anh mất !"
Rồi Buồn chảy Nước đến gần, TY lại cầu cứu "Anh giai, em đi cùng cho vui nhé !" "Không đâu, tôi buồn lắm, tôi muốn ở 1 mình." (Thế đấy, khi buồn thì người ta chả thiết gì nữa, kể cả TY)
Rồi Hạnh Phúc cũng ngang qua TY, nhưng nó phê tới mức ko nghe thấy TY gọi. (tôi nghĩ là HP cố tình ko nghe thấy thì đúng hơn, vì HP rất khôn khi bỏ qua TY, chả ai đang sướng lại muốn khổ cả )
Bỗng nhiên 1 giọng nói vang lên "Này TY, để tôi đưa cô đi !". Giọng nói cất lên từ 1 bác già. TY cảm thấy thật đáng nguyền rủa (vâng, blessed còn có nghĩa đó ) nhưng vẫn vui mừng tới mức quên cả việc hỏi tên của bác. Khi cả 2 đã tới 1 hòn đảo ko bị ướt , bác già một mình đi tiếp.
TY lúc đó mới thấy mình nợ bác kia thật nhiều (ng` ta bảo : Tình yêu sòng phẳng, kể cũng ko sai) và tìm tới Cụ Giáo ( hồi đấy hiểu biết nhất đảo) để hỏi :"Ai đã giúp cháu thế ?" "Thời Gian đó !" "Oé, Thời gian á? nhưng tại sao Thời gian lại giúp cháu ?". Cụ Giáo cười 1 phát rất thâm và trả lời "Bởi chỉ có thời gian mới đủ công lực để hiểu TY to thế nào".
Hết.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Welcome to http://genetic.vngate.net/

1. SKILLS MAKE LABOR MORE VALUABLE by Jim Rohn
As you know by now, if you have been a long time subscriber
to our weekly E-zine, I'm a very big proponent of activity,
labor and discipline. In fact I devoted one of the five
major pieces to the life puzzle (in my book under the same
name) to the subject of activity and labor. But now let me
add another key word to the labor equation - skillful. Yes,
skillful labor.
We need the skills to help build our family's dreams, the
skills to stir up an enterprise and make it successful. We
need skills to build equities for the future. We need
skills of all kinds.
How about this - skillful language. If you just talk to your
family you can hold them all together, but if you skillfully
talk to your children you can help them build dreams for the
future. That is why I spend so much time at the Weekend
Seminar on communication - how to affect others with words.
You can't be lazy in language - it costs too much. What if
you meant to say "what's troubling you?" and instead you
said "what's wrong with you?". Wow, that's too big a
mistake. And sure you could have made that mistake 10 years
ago, but not now. You should have gotten much better by now
in language and communication.
Skills multiply labor by two, by five, by ten, by fifty, by
one hundred times. Hey, you can chop a tree down with a
hammer but it takes about 30 days, called labor. But if you
trade the hammer in for an ax, you can chop the tree down in
about 30 minutes. What's the difference in 30 days and 30
minutes? Skills. Skills made the difference.
So do what you can - labor. But also do the best that you
can do - improved skills. And you will find that the labor
combined with skills will start producing miracles.
Miracles with your money, miracles with your family and
miracles in every part of your life.
To Your Success,
Jim Rohn
2. Vitamins for the Mind by Jim Rohn
KIDS by Jim Rohn
How many languages can a child learn? As many as you will
take the time to teach them.
Even kids can get started on becoming financially
independent. Kids can make profits long before they can
legitimately earn wages.
Kids ought to have two bicycles: one to ride and one to
rent.
Kids don't lack capacity, only teachers.
I teach kids how to be rich by the time they are age 40, 35
if they are extra bright. Most kids think they are extra
bright, so they go for 35.
What should a child do with a dollar? Here's one philosophy:
It's only a child and it's only a dollar, so what difference
does it make? Wow, what a philosophy! Where do you suppose
everything starts for the future? Here's where it starts -
it starts with a child and a dollar. You say, "Well, he's
only a child once. Let him spend it all." Well, when would
you hope that would stop? When he's fifty and broke like
you?
If kids clearly see the promise, they will gladly pay the
price.
3. POSTCARDS FROM MY SON by Charlie 'Tremendous' Jones
(excerpted from the Special Teenager Session at the Jim Rohn
Weekend Event - Excelling in the New Millennium)
My favorite saying about your associations and my way of
saying it is, "You are the same today as you're going to be
in five years except for two things, the people you meet and
the books you read." Hang around thinkers; you'll be a
better thinker. Hang around givers; you'll be a better
giver. Hang around workers; you'll be a better worker. Hang
around a bunch of thumb sucking, complaining, griping
boneheads; and you will be a better thumb sucking,
complaining, griping bonehead.
Now. With that said... how many of you are under sixteen
yet? Great. How do you like an idea that you might be
driving a Cadillac when you're sixteen? I got it for you.
When my son was your age, he wasn't quite as excited as you.
I said, "Jerry, do you want to have a car when you're
sixteen?" "Yes." "Do you want me to help you buy that car?"
"Yes sir, dad." "Alright, son, we're going to do it, but the
free ride's over. No more allowance. I'm going to give you a
way to make a lot of money.
Here is the deal. I am going to pick out books for you to
read. There will be motivational books, history books,
inspirational books; and every time I give you a book, you
give me a book report. Every time I get a book report, I'll
put money in your car fund. Another book report; more money
in the car fund. In two years if you read in style, you'll
drive in style. But if you read like a bum, you're going to
drive like a bum."
Overnight he developed a fantastic hunger for reading. Now
the first book I had him read was Dale Carnegie's "How to
Win Friends and Influence People." Now the first day he came
down and said, "Dad, dad, there's a whole chapter in here on
smiling and shaking hands." And he shook my hand, shook my
hand - first sign of life in fourteen years. Woohoo! And he
smiled at me. Then I had him read a book named Joshua in the
Old Testament on discouragement. And we were going *****nday
school one week, and I said, "Jerry, how are you getting
along with Joshua?" He says, "Dad, dad." He hit my leg.
Imagine that, he hit my leg. And he said, "Everybody ought
to have to read that book." That was a sign he was beginning
to think about somebody other than himself.
Well, he read 22 books. Did he buy a car? No. He kept the
money, used my car and my gas. Now but wait a minute. Don't
laugh. It was worth it. Then he went off to college, and I
got one of the greatest experiences of my life. And the last
chapter of my book "Life is Tremendous" is about Jerry Jones
(my son), and there is the reading contract to negotiate
with your dad to get it in writing, so he can't change his
mind. So Jerry goes off to college and he writes me a "Dear
Dad" postcard everyday for four years. You know what I used
to do when I would get some of the cards? I would put my
head on my desk and cry. Do you know why? He was thinking
thoughts that I never dreamed a young person could think.
Now he didn't have the full meaning of them, but he had read
and he had the thoughts in his mind. So I would like to read
you a couple cards from college to me.
"Dear Dad, It's tremendous to be able to know that when you
are in a slump, just as a baseball player will break out in
time, so will you break out of yours. Yes, time really cures
things. Like you said, you don't lose any problems, you just
get bigger and better ones, tremendous ones. Tremendously,
too. Jerry"
"Dear Dad, Just started reading a hundred Great Lives.
Thanks for what you said in the front. The part that every
great man never sought to be great. He just followed the
vision he had and did what had to be done. Love, Jerry."
"Dad, I just got done typing up little quotes out of the
Bible and Napoleon Hill, so everywhere I look, I see them.
When people ask me what they are, I tell them they are
pinups. Tremendously."
"Dad, I am more convinced than ever that you can do anything
you want to. You can beat anyone at anything just by working
hard. Handicaps don't mean anything. Because often people
that don't have them have a bad attitude and don't want to
work."
"Dad, nothing new. Just the same old exciting thought that
we can know God personally and forever in this amazing
life."
"Dad, when you're behind two papers in the fourth quarter
and you're exhausted from the game, you have to make up a
set of downs in order to stay in the game, and you get up to
the line and you see two, 250 pound tests staring you in the
face, it sure is exciting to wait and find out what play the
Lord will call next."
Well, the power of books. Now here is another one. Sammy is
my nine year old grandson. I'd like to share something that
I hope your dads will get for you. So last Father's Day a
year ago, I'll just read you a paragraph that I wrote to
Sammy on reading.
My dear Sammy, each word in this letter is bathed with my
love and prayers for you. As you get older, you will
discover that your mind doesn't always keep pace with your
body. The food you eat can nourish your body, but the food
you feed your mind and heart determines your good as a
person.
I am going to share a few principles I pray you will commit
to memory. I could share many more, but I have tried to
select ones that I wish I could have begun working on
earlier in my life. Read, read, read, read. A proper diet is
good for your body, and the best books are good for your
mind.
Your life will be determined by the people you associate
with and the books you read. You will come to love many
people you will meet in books. Read biographies,
autobiographies and history. Books will provide many of the
friends, mentors, role models and heroes you will need in
life. Biographies will help you see that there is nothing
that can happen to you that wasn't experienced by many who
used their failures and tragedies and disappointments as
stepping stones for more tremendous lives. Many of my best
friends are people I've never met - Oswald Chambers, George
Mueller, Charles Spurgeon, A.W. Tozer, Abraham Lincoln, Jean
Gietzen, hundreds of others. Don't read the Bible, but
instead study it. Digest it. Memorize it. Realize that God's
greatest gift for our time on earth is His word. Well, know
the word!"
Happy Reading!
--------------- Nguyễn Văn Tèo ---------------