Your presence is a present to the world
You're unique and one of a kind
Your life can be what you want it to be
Take the days just one at a time

Count your blessings, not your troubles
You'll make it through whatever comes along
Within you are so many answers Understand, have courage, be strong

Don't put limits on yourself
So many dreams are waiting to be realized
Decisions are too important to leave to chance
Reach for your peak, your goal, your prize

Nothing wastes more energy than worrying
The longer one carries a problem, the heavier it gets
Don't take things too seriously
Live a life of serenity, not a life of regrets

Remember that a little love goes a long way
Remember that a lot goes forever
Remember that friendship is a wise investment
Life's treasures are people.... together

Realize that it's never too late
Do ordinary things in an extraordinary way
Have health and hope and happiness
Take the time to wish upon a star.

And don't ever forget... for even a day
how very special you are

The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed
each morning by eight o'clock, with her hair fashionably coifed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.

Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.
After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room,
including the eyelet curtains that hung on her window.

"I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old
having just been presented with a new puppy. "Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room ... just wait." "That doesn't have anything to do with it," she replied. "Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged, it's how I arrange my mind.
I already decided to love it. It's a decision I make every morning.

When I wake up, I have a choice;
I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do.
Each day is a gift and, as long as my eyes open, I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away just for this time in my life."

Beeld-deurloop:


Reuse-bewondering het ek tog vir maatskaplike werkers.

Hulle het kennis en hulle het deernis, en hulle het durf.

Hulle skrik nie om aan ontstellende omstandighede blootgestel te word nie, en ken skynbaar geen weifeling as daar opgetree moet word nie. Want hulle weet van, soos my kinders altyd sê.

Gelukkig dan, dat hulle stelligheid (wat nogal irriterend kan wees, want hulle is só vol selfversekering, selfs beterweterig) gewoonlik getemper word deur 'n aansteeklike sin vir humor, en dit dikwels in situasies wat kwalik amusant aandoen. Miskien is dit juis die lag wat red.

Dis nou baie jare gelede, maar dit bly my by, het dit waarskynlik al hier oorvertel, Henna se storie van die vuil lakens. Doen sy, maatskaplike werker en jonk nog, huisbesoek by 'n gesin iewers in die noordweste, en slaan figuurlik gesproke haar hande saam oor die toestand van die bedlakens.
A nee a, mevrou, sê sy. U moet darem soms die lakens was. So vuil is nie higiënies nie.

Ai, Juffrou, antwoord die huisvrou, ek weet, maar my ou beste verseg mos om saans sy voete te was, hy klim net so met die vuile voete in die bed!

Met groot beslistheid beduie Henna dat daar met die man gepraat sal moet word. Nee, maar sy sal probeer, beloof die huisvrou en eggenote.

Toe Henna 'n maand of wat later weer haar rondes doen, is die toestand van die lakens inderdaad baie beter, en sy prys die huisvrou dat sy haar man oorreed het om saans sy voete te was.

Nee, Juffrou, antwoord sy, so ver kon ek hom nie kry nie, maar hy sien darem nou kans om saans bruin papierkardoesies om sy voete te bind voordat hy in die bed klim.

Vertel ek afgelope week die verhaaltjie vir 'n maatskaplike werker, en kry twee in ruil. In 'n klein dorp, in die verarmde buurt, moet Cornelia besoek aflê by 'n Brink-gesin. Op 'n stoepie, agter 'n slap heining, sit 'n vrou wat sien sy's verdwaal en eindelik opstaan en traag hekkie toe kom.

Ek is op soek na die Brinks, vertel Cornelia. Kan u my dalk na hulle huis beduie?

Die vrou het onmiddellike begrip vir die hele situasie: Juffrou, sê sy, daar is twee Brink-gesinne in hierdie buurt, en as jy nou vir my sê wat die probleem is, beduie ek jou na die regte een.

:daisy:

Nothing is as painful,
As unforgiveness to the soul;
A heart that's torn asunder,
With forgiveness becomes whole.
A single kind word spoken
Means more than countless words;
The three words, "I forgive you,"
Are all that need be heard.
To a soul that has been wounded,
Like a healing, cooling balm;
Forgiveness soothes and comforts,
Till at last the soul is calm.
For the soul that seeks forgiveness,
When forgiveness can't be found;
It struggles vainly everyday,
To hear that simple sound.
The power in those three kind words,
Can heal a heart that's broken;
But that heart cannot begin to heal,
As long as words remain unspoken.
Compassion in it's purest sense,
Reside in those three words;
The three words, "I forgive you,"
Are all that need be heard.

Pray don't find fault with the man
who limps or stumbles along the road
Unless you have worn the shoes he wears,
or struggled beneath his load.
There may be tacks in his shoes that hurt,
though hidden away from view,
Or the burden he bears...placed on your back,
might cause you to stumble too.
Don't sneer at the man who's down today,
unless you have felt the blow
That caused his fall or felt the shame
that only the fallen know.
You may be strong, but still the blows that
were his...if dealt to you,
In the selfsame way at the selfsame time
might cause you to stagger too.
Don't be too harsh with the man who sins
or pelt him with word or stone
Unless you are sure...yea doubly sure
that you have no sins of your own...
For you know...perhaps if the tempters
voice should whisper...as softly to you
As it did to him...when he went astray
could cause you to falter too.

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose
And declared with overacted surprise,
It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."
but instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, And appreciate every second that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy, Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

A Faithful Dog Will Play With You
And Laugh With You -Or Cry-
He'll Gladly Starve To Stay With You
Nor Ever Reason Why,
And When You're Feeling Out Of Sorts
Somehow He'll Understand
He'll Watch You With His Shining Eyes
And Try To Lick Your Hand.
His Blind, Implicit Faith In You
Is Matched By His Great Love -
The Kind That All Of Us Should Have
In The Master, Up Above.
When Everything Is Said And Done
I Guess This Isn't Odd
For When You Spell "Dog" Backwards
You Get The Name Of God.

Mommy went to Heaven, but I need her here today,
My tummy hurts and I fell down,
I need her right away.
Operator can you tell me how to find her in this book?
Is heaven in the yellow part,
I don't know where to look.
I think my daddy needs her too,
at night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes,
but I really don't know why.
Maybe if I call her,
she will hurry home to me.
Is Heaven very far away,
is it across the sea?
She's been gone a long,
long time she needs to come home now!
I really need to reach her,
but I simply don't know how.
Help me find the number please,
is it listed under "Heaven"?
I can't read these big big words, I am only seven.
I'm sorry operator,
I didn't mean to make you cry,
Is your tummy hurting too,
or is there something in your eye?
If I call my church maybe they will know.
Mommy said when we need help that's where we should go.
I found the number to my church tacked up on the wall.
Thank you operator, I'll give them a call.

Dear all,

I am hoping you might be able to help me. I am organising a London to Paris Cycle Challenge for Macmillan Cancer Relief and the Children's Heart Foundation.

I have had the honour (OR NOT!) to arrange this trip from scratch. This includes organising the cycle route, having to break it up into days, find camping sites to stay at, etc, etc.

Twenty of us will be setting off on Sunday 8th May and will be cycling a total of 300 miles to the Eiffel Tower. Participants have had to pay £100 registration free which includes the ferry crossing, camp sites and an evening in a hotel in Paris on the last night not forgetting the support vehicles.

My dilema is that with extremely limited funds, I have found it extremely difficult to get any discount for this trip. I have now paid for the hotel in Paris as well as the ferry crossing but my dilema is that I do not have tents.

Can anyone recommend a place that might be willing to donate some tents or even lend us tents for the week. At the end of the day, this is going to a good cause and have found the lack of help/sponsorship quite surprising!

Any suggestions would be great and of course, if you would like to donate a charitable amount to this event, it would be greatly appreciated! If you would like, you can send a cheque to Le Tour de Votre Vie, otherwise, you can email me and I can forward on necessary details.

Any help would be very much appreciated!

This thread has the permission of ForumAdmin - see link for further details http://www.globalbuzz-sa.com/news/2005/kls.htm

I am so excited!

I had ferrets year before last when I was sharing a house with someone who turned out to be a non-animal person. After a few months of arguments I passed them on to a friend to keep the peace.

I have been thinking of getting ferrets again, now that my domestic situation has improved, and after discussing it last night with my sister, we have decided to go ahead with this.

I am really excited - have started window shopping for a proper cage and playpen, plus accessories. Will hopefully go over to England to buy ferrets later in the year - I have decided to get 'pedigreed' animals this time.