Tui xin một cái topic nhé....

THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
Andre, 6, asked his mother how old she is. She replied, "How old do
you think I am?" He told her, "Fourteen," and she laughed. Then Andre
asked, "How old is Aunt Holly?" His mother said that he should do the
math, and if she is 14, Aunt Holly would be 5. Frustrated, Andre
responded, "No, no, no, Mommy. What is that in people years?" -- Amy
(mother of Andre) of Butler, Pennsylvania
Last October Maggie, 2, and her mother carved a Jack-O-Lantern for
Halloween. When her mother lit the candle inside the pumpkin, Maggie burst
out singing, "Happy Birthday to you!" -- Jeff Kaiser (father of Maggie)
of rural Albion, Indiana
Little Savanna was driving with her mother. Savanna looked out the
window and then at her mother and said, "Hey, Mom, this road doesn''t have
any line in the middle. You can take the whole thing!" -- Irene Lafferty
(grandmother of Savanna) of Rhinelander, Wisconsin
Amber and her fiance were babysitting Amber''s nephew, Taryn, 6.
Amber''s fiance, Brent, decided to have a beer. Taryn quickly said, "Brent,
you better not drink too many of those beers because tomorrow you are going
to get the hang of it (hangover)!" -- Amber (who is now married to Brent)
of Alberta, Canada
One Sunday, many years ago, Virginia''s daughter, Chrisy, went to the
restroom during Sunday School. She was gone for quite some time and her
teacher asked her if she had been procrastinating. Very indignantly,
Chrisy said, "No, I was going potty!" -- Virginia of Albany, Oregon
Jalyn, 8, was told to clean up her room before her mother had a dinner
party. "How come when people come over we have to clean up the house?"
Jalyn asked. Her mother said, "We don''t want people to think we live this
way." Jalyn replied, "Isn''t that sort of like lying?" - Jamie (mother of
Jalyn) of Weatherford, Texas
Christal was having a terrible time getting Kyle, 5, to pick up his
toys. Christal''s cousin Karen suggested, "Just tell him, ''Well, the
trashman comes tomorrow so if you don''t pick them up I will have to give
them to the trashman!''" Christal tried this new tactic with Kyle and it
worked like magic! Then a few weeks later she told Kyle again that he
needed to pick up his toys. He didn''t want to and so she said, "Well, you
know the trashman comes tomorrow and I will have to give him all of the
toys you won''t pick up, like this new Batman." Kyle jumped up, took Batman
out of his mother''s hand and said, "UUUGGGHH, I HATE that TRASHMAN!" --
Christal Bricker of Colorado Springs, Colorado
Jonathan, 3, was pushing a cart in the toy store aisle and talking to
himself. His mother heard him saying, "Part of me (pardon me) coming
through. Part of me coming through!" -- Peggy Allsman (mother of
Jonathan) of Fresno, California
Casey, 5, recently graduated from preschool. He was told
congratulations many times, so now when he refers to the graduation
ceremony he calls it "gradulation!" When Casey was about 3 his mother
remarked that she and his father enjoy taking good care of him. Ever since
then when someone teasingly says to Casey, "You are spoiled rotten," he
says, "I am not spoiled. I am well taken care of!" -- Traci Walker
(mother of Casey) of Lebanon, Tennessee
Gabe, 6, and Ian, 4, were sitting in the back seat of the car coming
home from Sunday School. Ian piped up with, "Mamaw, did you know that when
we go to Heaven, we will have new bodies." Before his grandmother could
answer, Gabe said, "I just hope they don''t make me a girl!" -- Grandmother
Deenie Daugherty of Des Moines, Iowa



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

WASTING PRECIOUS TIME
by Joseph Sica
I recently visited a friend in the hospice unit at one of our local
hospitals.
As I was talking with Bill, a gentleman walked into the room. Bill
began to cry and so did the gentleman. The gentleman leaned over the bed
to embrace Bill. After a few moments the gentleman, Ken, said to me, "He''s
my brother. We haven''t spoken in over 25 years."
Caught by surprise by his comment, I said, "You''re kidding me?"
"No," replied Ken. "We had an argument over a piece of property and
have been estranged from each other."
Bill said, "Ken, you haven''t met my children."
Then Bill introduced his children to their uncle. I left the hospice
unit thinking, there''s something wrong when we can''t forgive. Life is
short and it''s difficult to make up for all the time that has been lost.
This experience caused me to think the power of forgiveness and the
need for it in our lives. Sure, when someone says something or does
something to cause us harm, it hurts. But we need to move beyond the hurt,
to healing, which comes from forgiveness.
I like to think of forgiveness as the bold choice we make to clear out
of our lives resentment, bitterness, anger, hatred, and revenge. We need
to ask ourselves, "Do I want to waste precious time and energy carrying
around these nasty feelings?"
It''s the unfinished business we may have with a spouse, parent, child,
brother or sister, or friend which we need to take care of before it''s too
late.
Holding on to the past only weakens the relationship and keeps us from
mending it and putting it back together.
When we refuse to forgive, the other person owns us.
Often forgiveness is not for the other person, it''s for us -- to let
it go and begin again.
Charlie came to see me about a problem he was having. He was angry
with his father for dying. He said, "He died just when I was getting to
know him as a buddy, a friend. We''d fish, hunt, and golf together. Now
it''s all gone."
I told him, "You have unfinished business with your father. Go and
tell him."
"He''s dead," Charlie said, "How can I?"
I said, "Get in your car and go to the cemetery and tell him how angry
you are with him." He left me looking confused.
Two weeks later, Charlie came and told me, "I feel better. I drove to
the cemetery and stood over his grave and dumped my angry. Then I closed
my eyes and said to myself what I felt my dad would say. Wow, I never
realized how much energy keeping all that anger inside can do to a person."
I agreed and applauded Charlie for what he did.
Forgiveness brings healing, freedom, and peace back into our lives.
It opens our eyes to see what happened. It calls us to break down the
walls, stop the silent treatment and put an end to the cold war. One day,
the roles of wronged and wrongdoer may be reversed.
Use today as an opportunity to open a door that has been closed too
long. Forgive. Let it go. Put it behind you and see how much better you
will feel.
Give it try. It works.
-- Joseph Sica <frjoesica @ hotmail.com>



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

THE GOLDEN FLEECE
by Kathy Anne Harris
In January of 2002, for some inexplicable reason, I got a Golden
Retriever puppy for myself.
I had three dogs at home, all rescued dogs, all loved well by me.
I knew before I got there what I wanted. The runt, the darkest golden
colored pup of the bunch, and a female. I didn''t know if they still had
the runt, or if the runt was the darkest, or female. But when I went out
to their backyard to see the litter... there she was. Runty, dark, female.
And mine!
Tawny.
I brought her home that night and introduced her to the others. A new
sister for them. Everyone was curious, including Tawny. As is my nature,
I was talking to my fur kin, introducing them to Tawny. (We all have skin
kin. And we, lucky ones, have fur kin, too.)
While at the same time reassuring Tawny she was in a great home and
would be loved by all. And the strangest thing happened when I was talking
to Tawny. She would run from dog to dog. Curiously gazing into their
faces, as if listening. It seemed she wanted to respond, she just didn''t
know whom to respond to. Then it occurred to her that it was I who was
talking. I had never observed this behavior in any of my other dogs.
We quickly bonded, Tawny and me. She was growing fast and I was
growing to love her deeply. She was more human, than human. Truly! A
golden gem in my life. A bright light when within three months my world
would plummet into a darkness that at first seemed all consuming.
In April, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My rational world had
run amuck. I had a mastectomy. A month later I began chemotherapy. And
from my darkled world shown sunlight... Tawny. She was in touch with my
every emotion, my physical ups and downs, the turmoil that had become my
life.
Many nights I would sleep on the couch, as oft times I got a deeper,
more restful sleep on the couch during the months I was receiving chemo.
One night, in the wee hours, as I slept on my side, I was awakened by the
close presence of an animal.
Tawny stepped onto the couch and quietly and tenderly stretched out on
top of me, covering as much of my body as was possible. She weighed 50
pounds, yet she seemed as light as a throw blanket. She settled there and
went to sleep. It couldn''t have been comfortable with me on my side, on
the narrow couch. She did this same thing one other time.
To this day I believe she was, in her way, healing me with her love --
like the magical golden fleece of myth.
She is still the sweet, giving friend today that she was then. She
will often come to me throughout the day and even in the hours when I am
sleeping, to give me a kiss or two, then she goes back to wherever she was
lying or sitting. She doesn''t wait for a return of affection. It is a
gift of love she offers and it is clear she is happy doing it.
If there were a unicorn in the dog world, then Tawny would be that
magical being! As the unicorn did glow -- a radiance that shown from
within and burst outward round the animal in an aura, and a torch in the
midnight shadows of the magical realms of yore -- so does the Golden glow.
For it is sunlight wrapped in fur. And in its presence there is a
healing and restoring of the human soul -- a lifting of our spirit from the
mundane to something higher, more celestial. A lifetime filled with
laughter, with a playful presence, and love given uncon***ionally from a
heart of purity, loyalty, and innocence. A heart that is finely attuned to
the human heart, the human mind, the human spirit. A heart that will give
back more than any human could ever repay, so bounteous is the Golden''s
elan vital.
If you have had the privilege to find yourself in the keep of a
special dog, you have found your unicorn.
I know I have found mine...
-- Kathy Anne Harris <bluebelliedlizard @ earthlink.net>



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

LIGHTING THE STARS
by Amy Ignaczak
She sat in front of me, her legs crossed. Her eyes were the deepest
blue and her hair was golden ringlets.
As I was thinking about what to say, I could smell her cherry blast
shampoo fill the air. Her name is Emily, and she is only 4.
"Honey," I said, "you know that I have tried to make Uncle Ross feel
better and get him well."
"Yes," she said.
"And you know that Grandma has tried to fix Uncle Ross too."
"Yes," she said.
"Well, honey, Uncle Ross couldn''t be fixed."
"Yes he can, momma. You can make anyone feel better. You always made
me feel better," she said.
"I know Emi, but I tried and I couldn''t," I hesitated. "Uncle Ross is
now an angel and is with God."
"I don''t want Uncle Ross to be an angel, momma," she said.
"I don''t either. But, God has a special job for Uncle Ross. His job
is to light all the stars at night. When we look up at the stars at night,
we can see all the stars that Uncle Ross has light for us. He lights each
one because he loves us."
"All the stars?" she said.
"Yes, all the stars," I replied.
Her lips quivered for a moment, then she said, "Boy, Uncle Ross must
love me a lot to light all those stars!"
"Yes honey, he sure does," I said.
"I love him too momma. Aren''t brothers the best?" she said as she ran
off to play with her 2 year old brother.
And I smiled as I thought about another 4 year old girl and her 2 year
old brother -- 34 years ago. And, yes, brothers are the best!
-- Amy Ignaczak <amy.ignaczak @ us.pwc.com>



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

THE CICADAS CALL
by Al Batt
Most of the things that we are taught while growing up were correct,
but there were always a few things that were not. And we remember those
much better than we should.
I remember sitting in Miss Curran''s 7th Grade English Class back at
New Richland-Hartland High. Miss Curran was trying to take our minds of
mush and fill them with knowledge before they had a chance to become even
mushier. She would teach us things like: "Use i before e, except after c,
or when sounded like a, as in neighbor or weigh."
I thought this was a wonderful bit of wisdom as I made my way down the
hallowed halls to Mr. Bergner''s General Science Class.
Mr. Bergner was a wonderful teacher, just like Miss Curran, but I felt
there were some things a young fellow just shouldn''t be asking Mr. Bergner.
After all, Mr. Bergner was an ex-Marine and I imagined there was a reason
that all of the other teachers called him "Rocky".
Miss Curran and Mr. Bergner taught me a lot. So did my father. One
piece of apparent wisdom that was passed on to me by my father each summer
was when we would hear a loud irritating buzzing that sounded like the
whine of the old telephone wires that vibrated in hot weather.
This always happened during the dog days of summer when the
temperatures were high. This hot, sultry time of the year is called the
dog days because of Sirius, the Dog Star, which is prominent in the western
sky.
"That''s the first locust I''ve heard sing," Dad would say. "That means
it is just 6 weeks until the first frost."
Dad would mark the date on the calendar. If this bit of folklore came
close to predicting the date of the first frost, he would remind us when
Jack Frost came for a visit. If it didn''t come close, he would let the
matter drop without another word.
To some, the call of the cicada says, "Pha-roah." Despite this, they
are not a part of one of the plagues mentioned in the Bible. This large
insect is not a locust. It is not a cricket or a grasshopper. It is a
cicada.
The cicada is a voice of summer. More often heard than seen, the
prolonged buzzing sound is made only by the male and he does so without any
vocal cords. Unlike the locusts, crickets or grasshoppers which produce
sounds by rubbing a leg against a wing or a wing against a wing, the cicada
makes its buzz by vibrating membranes stretched over a pair of sound
chambers located at the base of its abdomen.
There is another superstition about the wings of a cicada. If the
pattern on their wings indicates a "W," this supposedly prophesies war. If
the wings show a "P," it means peace.
Intoxicated by the heat, cicadas sing loud and often. It is
impossible to ignore their high decibel whines emanating from a tree.
"If cicadas sing in early morn, it is good for growing corn. If
cicadas sing all day, it is time to gather hay. If cicadas sing at noon,
it will be hot enough to swoon."
These large insects (up to 2 inches long), also know by some as
"harvest flies," are a delicacy in some countries. I can only imagine the
delights that a big plate of cicadas and rice or cicadas and noodles would
provide the discriminating palate. The cicada larvae live in the soil,
surviving on the juices of tree roots. The nymph emerges from the soil and
climbs a tree. I have often found the casings of the nymphs on the ground
under trees where they were dropped or like husks clinging to a tree after
the adult has exited from its exoskeleton.
So science has taught me that it is not always "i before e except
after c" and I have learned that it is not locusts forecasting our weather.
I have become aware of the fact that cicadas are no more a harbinger of
frost than the robin is a harbinger of spring.
But when I hear the cicadas call, I know that we are closer to fall
than to spring.
-- Al Batt <SnoEowl @ aol.com>



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

JUST GIVE HIM THE NIGHT
by Sue Henley
Maximus is a flame point Siamese kitty.
In April of 2003, he was just one year old when he was run over by a
car. My daughter found him about 20 minutes later. She came in the door
and said in a very worried voice, "Mom, can you come see Maximus? I think
he''s hurt." I took one look and knew he had been hit.
I placed Maximus in a cat carrier and rushed him to the ER. It was
10:45pm when we got there. A young woman took him from me and the
agonizing wait began. Finally, I was ushered into a room and had to wait
another 10 minutes. There I had a long conversation with God. Our 17 year
old horse had died in August, our 16 year old dog died in January and our
19 year old cat died in February. I couldn''t take any more.
Soon the vet, a young woman, came into the room. She told me that
Maximus must have been hit by a car. She asked how long it had been and I
replied that it could not have been much more than 45 minutes.
She took X-rays and finally came back into the room. "He hasn''t
broken anything, but there is a swelling in his vertebrae that he might
have problems with," she said. "He may be paralyzed. We just don''t know
at this point."
She described many possibilities and treatment for him if I wanted to
take a chance. She said I could pick him up in the morning to take him to
his own vet. Although she wasn''t saying one way or the other if Maximus
would make it, I decided on the course of treatment and would see where he
was in the morning.
I said goodnight to Maximus and went home. I discussed his con***ion
with my daughter and we went to bed. Of course, I said more prayers for
him. Later, the vet called and said she had taken another X-ray and that
the swelling in his vertebrae had increased. He could not feel the
pinching of his feet and was not moving his tail. She recommended I put
him to sleep.
I could hear my daughter say "NO!" I had to agree.
"Just give him the night. He''s only a baby and it hasn''t been very
long. He''s had quite a trauma and maybe he just needs some time." She
said that she would do as I asked and I assured my daughter that Maximus
would be ok. More prayers.
The next morning, I got Max to his own vet. She took one look and
gave me the possible paralyzed prognosis among other things. Maximus could
not stand up at this point. She said he may need a neurologist and he may
not be able to have normal bodily functions, and so on. I continued to
pray throughout the day. My dear friend, Loretta, my daughter, and I, came
to get him that evening. He was doing much better and wanted to go home.
My vet said he would have to stay in a kennel for four weeks. No
running, no jumping, make sure he gets enough food and water, antibiotics,
pain medicine (kitty valium) and not to let him get excited. She also
wanted us to call the next day to let them know how he was.
We brought Maximus home and placed him in a makeshift kennel in my
bedroom. He stretched both his front and back legs out as far as he could
and rolled over. It was as if to say, "Thanks for having faith in God and
saying prayers for me! I''m going to be fine."
Three weeks later, Maximus gave me a present. It was 3am and he had
come out of his kennel and climbed (with his front feet) on my bed and
started purring and kissing me! It was his way of saying, "Thanks Mom!"
It is now three months later and Maximus runs everywhere throughout
the house. Each day he runs a little straighter line than he did the last.
He can jump with ease up on the couch and runs kitty marathons with his
brother and sister, Magi and Isabo. Needless to day, no one goes outside
any more.
God really does listen to prayers and gives us direction when we ask.
Had I listened to the emergency vet, I would not have my kitty today.
Interestingly enough, the morning that I picked him up from the emergency
room, the vet apologized for calling me and thinking he would not make it
the night. If only she could see him now!
-- Sue Henley <auraimages @ hotmail.com>



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

THE GOLDEN BOX
by S. M. Johnston
The mysterious golden box was tied with crimson ribbon and sat upon a
shelf above the sideboard in the dining room.
During my childhood, I would often wonder where it had come from and
why it was never opened. From time to time, I would see my parents look
upon that golden box and smile. Sometimes I would climb upon a chair to
get a closer look, but would never touch it for fear I would spoil
something special.
When I was grown and off on my own, the memory of that box faded.
However, I would come home to visit and see that small treasure sitting in
its usual place and the mystery would come alive again.
I soon married and had children of my own. But each time we would
visit my parent''s home, I would spot that golden treasure and wonder what
story was held within. Many years passed as that box continued to sit with
its mysterious contents, undisturbed.
The tragic loss of my father happened one Spring day. Our friends and
family gathered to mourn the loss of the biggest hero in my life. He was
the one I thought would never die.
After my father''s funeral, I found my mother in their room -- on the
bed they had shared for so many years, holding that treasured box in her
delicate hands.
With tears in her eyes and a lifetime of memories in her heart, she
carefully untied the ribbon and opened that golden treasure.
On a yellowed piece of paper were written these words:

My Love, I go far away.
I have to go.
I cannot stay.
My love for you
I will hold dear,
Until that time I can hold you near.
So I ask, Darling, wait for me
While I am far across the sea.
''Til I return, Dear, just know this
I leave this box sealed with a kiss.
All My Love,
Frank​

Then my mother told me this story:
My parents met in high school when their best friends set them up on a
blind date. As my parent''s friendship grew, also did their love. They had
planned on marrying as soon as they graduated from high school but "Uncle
Sam" had other ideas.
Before my father went off to war, he wrote those words and placed them
in that golden box and tied it with the crimson ribbon as a token of his
everlasting love for my mother. He asked that she open the box only if she
knew he would not be coming home.
As those months passed, their love, faith and prayer sustained them
through that difficult time until they would be together again.
When my father finally returned from the war, they married. However,
mom kept that box unopened as a remembrance of their love and devotion
during that hard time in their lives.
After my father passed away, I saw my mother slowly decline. She had
lost the zest for life she''d once had when my father was alive. I knew she
was dying of a broken heart because her true love never returned.
Soon, I found myself in my old family home holding that golden box.
But instead of a crimson ribbon, it was now tied with a blue one. And with
that blue ribbon came another mystery.
As I untied the ribbon I thought of all those wonderful years my
parents and I had shared. They had given me a lifetime of love and caring,
and I knew I would feel that love for the rest of my life. When I lifted
the lid and looked inside, I found that yellowed paper placed there so many
years ago and a new page written in my mother''s own hand. It read:

My Dear Son,
The first time I held you, my precious boy,
My heart was filled with so much joy.
As I watched you grow from a boy to a man,
I knew it was all part of God''s wonderful plan.
How thankful I am and I know it''s so true,
You''re a wonderful son and I''ll always love you.
Mom​

-- S. M. Johnston <writerscramp2001 @ msn.com>



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
Joshua, 4, left his toy car on the kitchen floor. After stepping on
it and slipping, his mother said, "That''s why you need to pick up your
toys." Then Joshua went into the living room and told his father, "Mom
just drove my car crazy in the kitchen!" -- Nancy Seace (aunt of Joshua)
of Danielson, Connecticut
When Grammie took Zach, 5, to the pool, he said, "Boy, you can really
smell the caffeine (chlorine)!" -- Sally Hershiser (Grammie) of Kent, Ohio
Debbi recently endured a bout of food poisoning so her daughters are
very aware of the things they eat. While on vacation, they went to the
beach with some friends who had packed leftover pizza in their cooler.
Kelly, 7, took a bite and didn''t like it. "That pizza is no good," Kelly
said. Debbi''s friend told her to just put it back in the cooler if she
didn''t like it. "No," Kelly said, "I mean it''s extinct (spoiled)!" --
Debbi Armstrong of Orlando, Florida
Kristen, 3, was breathing funny. Her step-mother asked her if the
smog (they were visiting Houston) was affecting her ability to breathe.
"No," Kristen replied, "I am just singing ''Jesus Loves Me'' through my
nose!" -- Vicki High (step-mom) of Crandall, Texas
When Brandon was little his parents told him they were going to
Seattle. He asked, "Who''s Attle?" -- Angie (half-sister of Brandon) of
Bellingham, Washington
Kimmie was about 12 when she was discussing with girlfriends what they
wanted to be when they grew up. One girl said her sister made a lot of
money as a ****tail waitress. After several minutes of hard thinking,
Kimmie said, "Well, maybe I won''t go to college, either, I''ll just go and
be a Waitrell ****tress!" (Kim is 44 now and a beautician.) -- Carrie
Cowen (mother of Kimmie) of Arnold, Pennsylvania
Janice kept her granddaughter Heather, 3, during a bad thunderstorm.
Janice was easing Heather''s fear by reminding her that God loves us and he
made the rain, grass, flowers, clouds and us. Heather looked up at Janice
and asked, in all seriousness, "Grandma, is thunder a part of God''s legs?"
-- Janice Finley of Arab, Alabama
Here is another forehead story from Wanda, a child care provider.
Matthew, a preschooler, had a headache. His teacher told him she would put
a cold compress on his forehead to ease the pain. After the compress was
placed on his forehead, Matthew said, "If this is my forehead, where are my
one, two and three heads?" -- Wanda Anastasio of Pittsburg, California
Benjamin, 2, used to repeat everything he heard. His mother Angela
used to say, "Are you serious" quite often. One day when his dad came home
for work and started telling about his day, Benjamin said, "Are you silly
ass?" His dad was getting ready to punish him, but fortunately Angela
translated for him in the nick of time. -- Angela of Upton, Kentucky
Grandpa Jim and Ashton, 5, were sitting on the back porch when a
beautiful swallow-tail butterfly appeared. Grandpa said, "Go tell Grandma
to come see the swallow-tail butterfly." Ashton replied, "Grandpa, a
butterfly that swallows its tail?!" -- Linda McCoy (grandmother of Ashton)
of Albion, Indiana



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

STICKS AND STONES
by Diane Dean White
Summer is coming to a close I thought to myself, as a yellow school
bus filled with elementary aged children stopped at the house down the
street.
I have a perfect view of the activities from my kitchen window and it
always brings a smile to my face to remember the excitement I felt when
this time of year would come around.
On this particular afternoon, I noted a young boy who walked several
paces behind the others who descended the bus steps first. He was new to
the area. I had recently noticed the moving van at the house where he
lived. He walked by the group of other children who were laughing and
shuffling their feet.
I was hoping that someone from the group in the neighborhood might try
to include this boy in their circle. But suddenly, I heard a shout from a
boy in the group to the newcomer, and watched in amazement as the other
children laughed at what he had said. The newcomer dashed to his house as
fast as his legs could carry him, while the other children stood watching
and laughing. I wondered what they had said to him.
I remember the years our three children started school and how I tried
to prepare them for things that others might use that could hurt them. I
also remember the old saying "Sticks and stones may break my bones but
names will never hurt me." It was something that simply was NOT true. I
knew names and unkind words could hurt badly. In fact, they can do
permanent injury to children and adults alike. And once said, they cannot
be taken back.
How pleased I was one day as a 6th grader when we were having art
class. I had made a painting and was so happy when the art teacher came by
my desk and told me how much she liked my sail boat in the blue water. A
few minutes later my 6th grade classroom teacher walked by the row of desks
and looked at my painting and said, "You can do better."
All of a sudden the joy and feeling of happiness was gone. I
obviously hadn''t done a good job after all. I never took art after that,
although I loved it so.
Many children today suffer from words that someone said to them.
Older people can feel the sting of names or unkind words as well. It is an
ongoing discipline to remind oneself that a word spoken can be hurtful or
encouraging. Physical wounds heal, but the speech we use can stay with
someone a lifetime. Words are much like dynamite, once they go off (or are
said) the damage is done.
I don''t know what the neighbor boy thought of the children who felt it
their obligation to say unkind words to him, but I did walk over with a
plate of cookies and introduced myself to his mother. I invited the young
boy to stop by after school someday and visit me. He seemed pleased and
smiled.
I just wonder if I can find a few other boys who might enjoy coming by
around the same time. Everyone needs a friend and some kind words.
-- Diane Dean White <Thelamb212 @ aol.com>



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

YO-YO
by Tom Bernagozzi
I had been volunteering at the shelter for about two months when I saw
a car drive away leaving a staff member holding a small black poodle on a
leash.
The dog was walking around in a circle very slowly -- disoriented and
melancholy. I walked over to pet him and noticed that his one eye was
clouded and the other unfocused.
Yo-Yo was both blind and deaf -- ten years old and no longer the
perfect little house pet. He was discarded like so many others.
I learned not everyone loved animals the way I did. Dogs were brought
in matted and dirty. Some were sick or strays and many were unwanted,
sweet dogs with no homes. Each had once lived with someone who no longer
cared for them and now they wound up here. Being a NO KILL shelter, we
believe in keeping animals safe and comfortable until we can find them the
right homes.
We save those with handicaps for the right owners to love and
appreciate them. Roxie has a cancerous eye which had to be removed.
Munchkin''s owner was going to euthanize her because the dog was getting old
and needed medical treatment. Squintz has dry eye and must have drops each
day. Shaggy had chemotherapy for a malignant tumor, and Maxie''s back legs
were paralyzed after being dropped on her back. Each one has special needs
and is a wonderful pet.
While other healthy and happy dogs get adopted each week, these
special dogs stay on at the shelter for many, many months. People feel
compassion for them, but most realize adopting them is a commitment that
they are not able to handle.
The day after Yo-Yo came in, I took him out and brushed and bathed
him. We sat out in the sun together for about 45 minutes and he just kept
lifting his nose to catch the smells in the air around him. Obviously,
this was his keenest sense and he used it to learn about his new world.
In the weeks that followed, he learned to make his way around,
occasionally bumping into things in his path, but never allowing this to
stop him from exploring. He loved treats and seemed so appreciative of the
time anyone would care for him. Sometimes I would arrive and could hear
his hoarse bark coming from the back, eager for attention.
One day, I arrived at the shelter and as I was coming in I noticed a
man with a poodle in the parking lot. I casually said hello and asked him
if he was here to look for a dog.
To my astonishment he said, "Yes, my wife is filling out an
application. We came for Yo-Yo."
I couldn''t believe my ears! They had seen Yo-Yo on the website and
drove from Massachusetts in hopes of adopting him. They read about his
background and decided they wanted to give him a home with their two
poodles. I sat there with the man for close to an hour and petted Yo-Yo
while the papers were filled out. He told me about his dogs and how they
came to live with them. It was easy to see that this was going to be a
wonderful home for Yo-Yo to join. He''d have two loving owners and two
small poodles to keep him company.
When the paperwork was complete and fees taken care of, Yo-Yo was
ready to leave. I have seen many dogs adopted since I have been there, but
none has affected me as much as watching Yo-Yo go.
This wonderful couple put their other poodles in the back of the car.
The woman placed Yo-Yo on her lap in the front seat. He looked relaxed and
happy. He''d finally found a permanent, warm, loving lap that he could call
his own. I kissed the top of his head and looked at those sweet eyes for
the last time. They waved goodbye and pulled out of the lot for the long
drive home.
As I walked back into the shelter and saw the other special needs
dogs, I thought maybe Shaggy, Munchkin, Roxie, Maxie, Squintz and all the
rest might get lucky too. But if not, what could be better than this?
Here, at Little Shelter, there are dozens of caring people who absolutely
LOVE animals and care for each of them as if they were their own.
I have a lot of things to do these days -- yard work, tennis, reading,
trips to the city, and my writing, but they are all things that I do for
ME.
Now that I have found Little Shelter I can''t wait to get there each
afternoon. If I miss a day, I really feel I''ve let the animals down.
I''ve begun to let other things go at home, but it''s worth it for that
lick on the hand or a gaze into a pair of soft brown loving eyes.
-- Tom Bernagozzi <margaret @ hivecommunications.com>



Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .