Showing posts with label Misc.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Misc.. Show all posts
There comes a time....
There comes a time in everyone's life when change occurs I suppose. Well, that time has come in mine. My husband has informed me he will be leaving Friday, November 1 and will be divorcing me soon after. This did come as a shock to me, but I had noticed him becoming more and more distant the last several months with more and more mood changes. Divorce, now that never crossed my mind! I have so many thoughts swirling around in my head, butterflies and nerves in the pit of my stomach and just wondering what is going to happen. We've been together 28 years, married 26 of those years, 4 children and 7 grandchildren together. So, just pray for me to have grace and mercy and that my heart will be filled with God's love that I will continue to do His will in my life. God bless!!!
Cursive Writing and Multiplication Tables~~Should schools still teach them???
· May 29
North Carolina wants to mandate the teaching of cursive writing and multiplication tables in public schools. They'll debate the bill today... do you think schools should still teach cursive & multiplication tables?~ Chris Mitchell
Uplifting Things To Do Today
<>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <><
UPLIFTING THINGS TO DO TODAY
* Smile at a stranger
* Drop a coin where a child can find it
* Learn something new and teach it to someone
* Tell someone you love them
* Hug someone
* Forgive someone who has wronged you
* Try saying "I'm sorry" when you ought to
* Tell a child how great they are
* Sing a song about Jesus to yourself ( HOW ABOUT... JESUS LOVES ME ? )
* Keep a promise
* Call someone just to say hello
* Try listening more than talking
* Stand up for what you believe in
* Thank God for His beautiful Creation
* Encourage someone who is feeling down
* Cherish today as if it were your last one
* Tell someone about Jesus
-- Author Unknown
<>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <><
UPLIFTING THINGS TO DO TODAY
* Smile at a stranger
* Drop a coin where a child can find it
* Learn something new and teach it to someone
* Tell someone you love them
* Hug someone
* Forgive someone who has wronged you
* Try saying "I'm sorry" when you ought to
* Tell a child how great they are
* Sing a song about Jesus to yourself ( HOW ABOUT... JESUS LOVES ME ? )
* Keep a promise
* Call someone just to say hello
* Try listening more than talking
* Stand up for what you believe in
* Thank God for His beautiful Creation
* Encourage someone who is feeling down
* Cherish today as if it were your last one
* Tell someone about Jesus
-- Author Unknown
<>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <><
Do You Drink Diet Sodas? Did You Know This?
Are you a Diet Soda drinker??! Respect & protect your body! Get educated and don't be afraid to spread the awareness with others... you never know whose life you may save!
Did you know: "These products contain formaldehyde, which stores in the fat cells, particularly in the hips and thighs. Formaldehyde is an absolute toxin and is used primarily to preserve 'tissue specimens.
Diet soda is NOT a diet product! It is a chemically altered, multiple SODIUM (salt) and ASPARTAME containing product that actually makes you crave carbohydrates. It is far more likely to make you GAIN weight!
Many products we use every day contain this chemical but we SHOULD NOT store it IN our body!"
Do your own research! Yes, there are many conflicting studies out there, but there's a lot of stake holders invested too... be your own judge. Something that converts to or contains formaldehyde and is consumed over a period of time and in fairly significant levels (which is a vast majority of American's these days) is asking for a slow and painful death in my opinion. Strong yes! Passionate yes! But it's been effecting so many people I love & care deeply about.
So if by sharing this now creates awareness and change for even just a few to think twice about the things we feed & fuel our bodies with, than I am one step closer to encouraging positive influence and impacting the masses!
Did you know: "These products contain formaldehyde, which stores in the fat cells, particularly in the hips and thighs. Formaldehyde is an absolute toxin and is used primarily to preserve 'tissue specimens.
Diet soda is NOT a diet product! It is a chemically altered, multiple SODIUM (salt) and ASPARTAME containing product that actually makes you crave carbohydrates. It is far more likely to make you GAIN weight!
Many products we use every day contain this chemical but we SHOULD NOT store it IN our body!"
Do your own research! Yes, there are many conflicting studies out there, but there's a lot of stake holders invested too... be your own judge. Something that converts to or contains formaldehyde and is consumed over a period of time and in fairly significant levels (which is a vast majority of American's these days) is asking for a slow and painful death in my opinion. Strong yes! Passionate yes! But it's been effecting so many people I love & care deeply about.
So if by sharing this now creates awareness and change for even just a few to think twice about the things we feed & fuel our bodies with, than I am one step closer to encouraging positive influence and impacting the masses!
HEY! Wasn't this us?
A little house with three bedrooms,
one bathroom and one car on the street .
A mower that you had to push
to make the grass look neat.
In the kitchen on the wall
we only had one phone,
And no need for recording things,
someone was always home.
We only had a living room
where we would congregate,
unless it was at mealtime
in the kitchen where we ate.
We had no need for family rooms
or extra rooms to dine.
When meeting as a family
those two rooms would work out fine.
We only had one TV set
and channels maybe two,
But always there was one of them
with something worth the view.
For snacks we had potato chips
that tasted like a chip.
And if you wanted flavor
there was Lipton's onion dip.
Store-bought snacks were rare because
my mother liked to cook
and nothing can compare to snacks
in Betty Crocker's book.
Weekends were for family trips
or staying home to play.
We all did things t ogether --
even go to church to pray.
When we did our weekend trips
depending on the weather,
no one stayed at home because
we liked to be together.
Sometimes we would separate
to do things on our own,
but we knew where the others were
without our own cell phone.
Then there were the movies
with your favorite movie star,
and nothing can compare
to watching movies in your car.
Then there were the picnics
at the peak of summer season,
pack a lunch and find some trees
and never need a reason.
Get a baseball game together
with all the friends you know,
have real action playing ball --
and no game video.
Remember when the doctor
used to be the family friend,
and didn't need insurance
or a lawyer to defend?
The way that he took care of you
or what he had to do,
because he took an oath and strived
to do the best for you.
Remember going to the store
and shopping casually,
and when you went to pay for it
you used your own money?
Nothing that you had to swipe
or punch in some amount,
and remember when the cashier person
had to really count?
The milkman used to go
from door to door,
And it was just a few cents more
than going to the store.
There was a time when mailed letters
came right to your door,
without a lot of junk mail ads
sent out by every store.
The mailman knew each house by name
and knew where it was sent;
there were not loads of mail addressed
to "present occupant."
There was a time when just one glance
was all that it would take,
and you would know the kind of car,
the model and the make.
They didn't look like turtles
trying to squeeze out every mile;
they were streamlined, white walls, fins
and really had some style.
One time the music that you played
whenever you would jive,
was from a vinyl, big-holed record
called a forty-five.
The record player had a post
to keep them all in line
and then the records would drop down
and play one at a time.
Oh sure, we had our problems then,
just like we do today
and always we were striving,
trying for a better way.
Oh, the simple life we lived
still seems like so much fun,
how can you explain a game,
just kick the can and run?
And why would boys put baseball cards
between bicycle spokes
and for a nickel, red machines
had little bottled Cokes?
This life seemed so much easier
and slower in some ways.
I love the new technology
but I sure do miss those days.
So time moves on and so do we
and nothing stays the same,
but I sure love to reminisce
and walk down memory lane.
With all today's technology
we grant that it's a plus!
But it's fun to look way back and say,
Hey look, guys, THAT WAS US!
The Lost Wallet
A LETTER IN THE LOST WALLET
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 sixty 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 any more 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 old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye.
I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The secondshe saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she tooka 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 youshould find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for amoment, 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 old timers 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.
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 sixty 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 any more 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 old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye.
I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The secondshe saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she tooka 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 youshould find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for amoment, 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 old timers 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.
Shabbychatue
Just beautiful for any front porch, especially a southern front porch. ;)
Came from Pinterest
Just thought this was pretty :)
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A Country Momma's Hands
Grandmother says... Carrots, Eggs, or Coffee; "Which are you?"
A young woman went to her grandmother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved a new one arose.
Her grandmother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs and the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil without saying a word.
In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her granddaughter, she asked, "Tell me what do you see?"
"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.
She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they got soft.She then asked her to take an egg and break it.
After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg.
Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The granddaughter smiled, as she tasted its rich aroma. The granddaughter then asked. "What's the point,grandmother?"
Her grandmother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity--boiling water--but each reacted differently.
The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.
The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water.
"Which are you?" she asked her granddaughter.
"When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?"
Think of this: Which am I?
Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?
Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff?
Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?
Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you.
When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate to another level?
---AUTHOR UNKNOWN —
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