tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38859437432385583212024-03-12T20:47:20.562-07:00MOTIVATIONAL SITE (STORIES/QUOTES.)MOTIVATIONAL STORIES / QUOTES ; INSPIRATIONAL POSTERS / VIDEOS.Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.comBlogger175125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-38879097055300338802008-03-26T16:10:00.000-07:002008-03-26T16:37:24.077-07:00Always Remember<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Always remember two things..</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Don't take any decisions when you are Angry.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Don't make any promises when you are Happy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Remember these... for rest of your lives.</span>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-18361220830503038302008-03-11T11:41:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:42:24.230-07:00Life Is Not Perfect<p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;">Go ahead with life as it is, with the bumps and pitfalls.<br />However it is, give your best to every moment.<br /><br />Don't spend your time waiting for the perfect situation,<br />something which is not very likely to come.<br /><br />Life is not perfect;<br />the way you live can make it perfectly wonderful.</span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-60850913390690271352008-03-11T11:29:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:38:18.200-07:00God's Cup Of Tea<span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">We are like teabags, whose strength comes out when we're put in hot water.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"><br />So, when problems upset you... Just think, you must be God's favorite cup of Tea!</span>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-38007994061645381032008-03-11T11:25:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:26:13.376-07:00Finding Your Way.<span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">If there is a way, I will find one...<br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">If there is none, I will make one...</span>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-7125537254893922012008-03-11T11:22:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:25:01.731-07:00The True Friend (Inspirational Poem )<b style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;">A friend is someone to behold,</span></b><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;"> To laugh with and chat with, when warm or cold,<br /><br />Someone to comfort you when you're blue,<br />To talk about the old and new.<br /><br />One has many acquaintances in life,<br />But when there is sorrow or strife,<br /><br />A friend is someone who will understand,<br />To lend an ear or a helping hand.<br /><br />It matters not where you are,<br />Whether you are near or far,<br /><br />Around the world or across the street,<br />A friend is someone we like to meet.<br /><br />So when life's little troubles get you down,<br />Try to smile, do not frown,<br /><br />Turn on the computer, or pick up the phone,<br />With friends, you are never alone.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-77772971653236388542008-03-11T11:12:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:14:04.682-07:00DO NOT QUIT (Inspirational Poem)<p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;">When things go wrong,<br />as they sometimes will,<br /><br />When the road your trudging<br />Seems all uphill,<br /><br />When the funds are low<br />And the debts are High ,<br /><br />And you want to smile,<br />but you have to sigh,<br /><br />When care is pressing you down a bit,<br />Rest if you must, but don't you quit.<br /><br />Life is queer with it's twists an turns,<br />As everyone of us must sometimes learn<br />,<br />And many a failure turns about,<br />When he might have won had he stuck it our,<br /><br />Don't give up though the pace seems slow,<br />You may succeed with another blow.<br /><br />Success is failure turned inside out,<br />The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,<br /><br />And you can never tell how close you are,<br />It may be near when it seems so far,<br /><br />So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit,<br />It's when things seem worst that you cannot quit.<br /><br />--Unknown Author</span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-31542192520461514512008-03-11T11:06:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:12:17.705-07:00The Old Fisherman.<p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;">Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of <st1:placename st="on">John</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placename st="on">Hopkins</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placetype st="on">Hospital</st1:PlaceType> in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Baltimore</st1:place></st1:City>. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.<br /><br />One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old, I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face--lopsided from swelling, red and raw.<br /><br />Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning." He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face...I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..." For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning."<br /><br />I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us.<br /><br />"No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag. When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.<br /><br />At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch.<br /><br />He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, "Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home.<br /><br />Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind." I told him he was welcome to come again. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;">On his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.<br /><br />In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.<br /><br />Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.<br /><br />When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning.<br /><br />"Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!"<br /><br />Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear.<br /><br />I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.<br /><br />--Author (Unknown.)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-66914779750751304152008-03-11T11:04:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:06:14.644-07:00Bend; But don’t break!<p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Life is a mixture of good times and bad times,<br />happy moments and unhappy moments.<br /><br />The next time you are experiencing<br />one of those bad times or unhappy moments,<br />Try your best not to let the situation get the best of you.<br /><br />If the going gets tough and you are at your breaking point; show resilience.<br /><br />Bend; But don’t break!</span></b><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-12044611240777708832008-03-11T11:02:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:03:39.395-07:00Follow Your Dream…<p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Follow your dream…<br />Take one step at a time and don’t settle for less.<br />Just continue to climb.<br />Follow your dream…<br /><br />If you stumble, don’t stop and lose sight of your goal.<br />Press to the top.<br />For only on top can we see the whole view<br />Can we see what we’ve done and what we can do<br />Can we then have the vision to seek something new<br />Press on.<br />Follow your dream.</span></b><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-8699530175408317932008-03-11T10:57:00.000-07:002008-03-11T11:01:48.229-07:00Let Go....<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"> </span><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Let go of the Past,<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Only then you move towards the future.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Let go of the Regrets,<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Only then you move towards the happiness.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Let go of the Presumptions,<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Only then you move towards the truth.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Let go of the Problems,<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Only then you move towards the solutions.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Let go of Yourself,<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Only then you move towards the divinity.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-28932315623199721942008-02-21T18:59:00.000-08:002008-02-21T19:02:16.848-08:00::: DREAMS & FUTURE :::<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZysM1SkXIJWkO5x02ZDLTreV5ym_bNmdLzWq0_ph8YZTgpbI0hw9opEw3O1oP1xwhrllhjAaPcAMeoZ0GvYufaAzxn13Ou6cz7_OhW7ZRwZrTrT6FARy4jWz1Nz0ylFqeUjgs8rEBi7oH/s1600-h/The+future1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZysM1SkXIJWkO5x02ZDLTreV5ym_bNmdLzWq0_ph8YZTgpbI0hw9opEw3O1oP1xwhrllhjAaPcAMeoZ0GvYufaAzxn13Ou6cz7_OhW7ZRwZrTrT6FARy4jWz1Nz0ylFqeUjgs8rEBi7oH/s400/The+future1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169633856883189714" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">THE FUTURE BELONGS TO THOSE </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">WHO BELIEVES IN THE BEAUTY OF</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">THEIR DREAMS.</span></span><br /></div>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-53337131607329529832008-02-21T18:52:00.000-08:002008-02-21T18:53:40.116-08:00IF YOU THINK ...... YOU CAN ....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUUmmDOxKZBIa3vwsTJ6N4e-sxbC5ukk2Jh-v7soE-bgIV4udHvqzdPmxcSNJODY6dBwDA7oJXBV9tKVbDd-MeIENbBUSAICrj15u-_KZQOfcpMU4A6rhtv8DT6nQxt3LAkrOigZUVdoh/s1600-h/ifyouthinkds2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUUmmDOxKZBIa3vwsTJ6N4e-sxbC5ukk2Jh-v7soE-bgIV4udHvqzdPmxcSNJODY6dBwDA7oJXBV9tKVbDd-MeIENbBUSAICrj15u-_KZQOfcpMU4A6rhtv8DT6nQxt3LAkrOigZUVdoh/s400/ifyouthinkds2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169632143191238594" border="0" /></a>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-12936109694157317222008-02-21T18:49:00.000-08:002008-02-21T18:51:08.658-08:00Ph.D. In Success.<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Do You Have a Ph.D. in Success?<br /><br />Many people become success experts and never have much<br />success.<br /><br />Why does this happen?<br /><br />Because many people get caught in the trap of learning but<br />never applying what they learn.<br /><br />If you have read a few of the classic books on success you<br />already know 90% of what it takes to succeed on a massive<br />scale in life.<br /><br />You already know what to do and why to do it.<br /><br />In fact, there is nothing whatsoever stopping you from<br />being happier, more successful and more content than you<br />have ever been.<br /><br />Why then are you not already living the life of your dreams?<br /><br />Because you have acquired a Ph.D. in success rather than a<br />successful life. You have confused knowing what to do with<br />actually doing it.<br /><br />And you have incorrectly assumed that when you understand<br />the strategies of success that you will automatically be<br />successful. This is not how it works.<br /><br />-- You only know what you can do --<br /><br />From now on you might like to use this statement as the way<br />you measure your progress. This will stop you from<br />confusing knowledge with the implementation of that<br />knowledge.<br /><br />You truly know something only when you can do it - not when<br />you can only describe how to do it.<br /><br />A Ph.D. in success is easy to acquire but worth very<br />little. On the other hand the sincere application of those<br />very same principles and strategies can transform the<br />quality of your life very quickly.<br /><br />All you need to do is unlock your personal motivation<br />blueprint - when you know what motivates you and how to<br />stay motivated your life will change.<br /><br />You will have become one of the winners in life - those<br />people who apply time tested success principles.<br /><br />-- By Peter Murphy.<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-78610709456082973012008-02-21T18:43:00.000-08:002008-02-21T18:49:44.329-08:00BEAUTIFUL LESSON<p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;"><span style=""> </span><span lang="EN-GB">This is a story from a book written in 1875 by a man named Robert Boyd. It's called the "Trials and Triumphs of Faith." It's put me in tears, more than once.<o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">A minister tells us that he was spending several days in one of our western cities. He put up at a hotel, and one morning he heard, while up in his room, the most wonderful whistling he had ever listened to. It seemed like the note of a bird, but he thought it could not be that, for there was a perfectly regular tune kept up with much power. Though he was in the third story, yet the music came gushing up in its sweet melody, and seemed to fill the whole house. He ran downstairs to get a sight of the wonderful performer, looking every man that he met in the face. At last, he asked the clerk who it was that had such amazing power as a whistler. Laughing at his simplicity he pointed him to a canary bird that had been trained to perform<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">in this way, and was valued at $150.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">"How was that bird trained to sing this way?" the gentleman enquired. In reply the clerk told him that during the training process the bird is nearly starved and shut up in a room that is almost dark. While it is under this severe discipline, and its attention undivided, a bird organ is made to play this one tune over and over again, for days. Hearing nothing else, and taught by his troubles, the poor little bird takes up the tune, which he performs so perfectly.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Thus it is that God permits his people to be afflicted that they may learn the heavenly song. He shuts them up in the dark room of sorrow, away from the tempting sights and sounds of the world, that they may, without distraction, listen to his voice and learn to sing the higher melodies of glory. Blessed are those who patiently wait the Lord's good time to work out their deliverance. When the song of Grace is fully learned, he brings them into a large place, sets their feet upon a rock, and others learn from them the sweet song of redeeming love.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-13115119148502643262008-02-21T18:40:00.000-08:002008-02-21T18:41:38.939-08:00A Violin with Three Strings...<p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">On Nov. 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at <st1:placename st="on">Lincoln</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placetype st="on">Center</st1:PlaceType> in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York City</st1:place></st1:City>.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an awesome sight.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Could hear it snap - it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage - to either find another violin or else find another string for this one. But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">You could see him modulating, changing, re-composing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said - not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone - "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the definition of life - not just for artists but for all of us.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Here is a man who has prepared all his life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings; so he makes music with three strings, and the music he made that night with just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable, than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-5161190527158369972008-02-21T18:32:00.000-08:002008-02-21T18:39:22.274-08:00One Dollar and Eleven Cents Plus.<p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Tess was a precocious eight year old when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn't have the money for the doctor's bills and their house. Only a very costly surgery could save him now and it was looking like there was no-one to loan them the money. She heard Daddy say to her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now."<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it! "And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick...and I want to buy a miracle." "I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist. "His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?"<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening a little. "Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"<span style=""> </span>"I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money".<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">"How much do you have?" asked the man from <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Chicago</st1:place></st1:City>. "One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly. "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">"Well, what a coincidence, " smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents-the exact price of a miracle for little brothers." He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents.<span style=""> </span>Let's see if I have the kind of miracle you need."<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neurosurgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?"<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost... one dollar and eleven cents .....<o:p></o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">plus the faith of a little child.</span></strong><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></strong></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-33648903411902747002008-02-21T18:26:00.000-08:002008-02-21T18:31:53.534-08:00VALUE OF PARENTS ....<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;"><span style=""> </span></span></strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">An 80 year old man was sitting on the sofa in his house along<span style=""> </span>with his 45 years old highly educated son. Suddenly a crow<span style=""> </span>perched on their window.<span style=""> </span>The Father asked his Son, "What is this?" <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">The Son replied "It is a crow".<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">After a few minutes, the Father asked his Son the 2nd time, "What is this?"<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">The Son said "Father, I have just now told you "It's a crow". After a little while, the old Father again asked his Son the 3rd time, What is this?"<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">At this time some expression of irritation was felt in the Son's<span style=""> </span>tone when he said to his Father with a rebuff. "It's a crow, a crow". A little after, the Father again asked his Son the 4th time, "What is this?"<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">This time the Son shouted at his Father, "Why do you keep asking me the same question again and again, although I have<span style=""> </span>told you so many times 'IT IS A CROW'. Are you not able to understand this?" A little later the Father went to his room and came back with an<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Old tattered diary, which he had maintained since his Son was<span style=""> </span>born. On opening a page, he asked his Son to read that page.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">When the son read it, the following words were written in the diary :-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">"Today my little son aged three was sitting with me on the sofa, when a crow was sitting on the window. My Son asked me 23 times what it was, and I replied<span style=""> </span>to him all 23 times that it was a<span style=""> </span>Crow. I hugged him lovingly each time he asked me the same<span style=""> </span>question again and again for 23 times. I did not at all feel<span style=""> </span>irritated I rather felt affection for my innocent child". <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">While the little child asked him 23 times "What is this", the<span style=""> </span>Father had felt no irritation in replying to the same question all 23 times and when today the Father asked his Son the same question just 4 times, the Son felt irritated and annoyed.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style=""> </span>So..<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style=""> </span>If your parents attain old age, do not repulse them or look at<span style=""> </span>them as a burden, but speak to them a gracious word, be cool, obedient, humble and kind to them. Be considerate to your<span style=""> </span>parents. From today say this aloud, "I want to see my parents happy forever. They have cared for me ever since I was a little child. They have always showered their selfless love on me.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">They crossed all mountains and valleys without seeing the storm<span style=""> </span>and heat to make me a person presentable in the society today". Say a prayer to God, "I will serve my old parents in the BEST<span style=""> </span>way. I will say all good and kind words to my dear parents, no<span style=""> </span>matter how they behave.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-6676755746696965082008-02-21T18:25:00.000-08:002008-02-21T18:28:23.176-08:00Value of Parents...<p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>An 80 year old man was sitting on the sofa in his house along with his 45 years old highly educated son. Suddenly a crow perched on their window. The Father asked his Son, "What is this?" </span></strong><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">The Son replied "It is a crow".</span></strong><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">After a few minutes, the Father asked his Son the 2nd time, "What is this?"</span></strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" lang="EN-GB"><br /><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: normal;">The Son said "Father, I have just now told you "It's a crow". After a little while, the old Father again asked his Son the 3<sup>rd</sup> time, What is this?"</span></strong></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">At this time some expression of irritation was felt in the Son's tone when he said to his Father with a rebuff. "It's a crow, a crow". A little after, the Father again asked his Son the 4th time, "What is this?"</span></strong><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB"> </span></strong><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">This time the Son shouted at his Father, "Why do you keep asking me the same question again and again, although I have told you so many times 'IT IS A CROW'. Are you not able to understand this?" A little later the Father went to his room and came back with an</span></strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" lang="EN-GB"><br /><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: normal;">Old tattered diary, which he had maintained since his Son was born. On opening a page, he asked his Son to read that page.</span></strong></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: normal;" lang="EN-GB">When the son read it, the following words were written in the diary :-</span></strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);" lang="EN-GB"><br /><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: normal;">"Today my little son aged three was sitting with me on the sofa, when a crow was sitting on the window. My Son asked me 23 times what it was, and I replied to him all 23 times that it was a Crow. I hugged him lovingly each time he asked me the same question again and again for 23 times. I did not at all feel irritated I rather felt affection for my innocent child". </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: normal;">While the little child asked him 23 times "What is this", the Father had felt no irritation in replying to the same question all 23 times and when today the Father asked his Son the same question just 4 times, the Son felt irritated and annoyed.</span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: normal;"> So..</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: normal;"> If your parents attain old age, do not repulse them or look at them as a burden, but speak to them a gracious word, be cool, obedient, humble and kind to them. Be considerate to your parents. From today say this aloud, "I want to see my parents happy forever. They have cared for me ever since I was a little child. They have always showered their selfless love on me.</span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: normal;">They crossed all mountains and valleys without seeing the storm and heat to make me a person presentable in the society today". Say a prayer to God, "I will serve my old parents in the BEST way. I will say all good and kind words to my dear parents, no matter how they behave.</span></strong></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-36401183827393805982008-02-13T09:25:00.000-08:002008-02-13T09:33:47.477-08:00WEAKNESS to STRENGTH.<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">A 10-year-old boy decided to study judo despite the fact that he had lost his left arm in a devastating car accident. The boy began lessons with an old Japanese judo master. The boy was doing well, so he couldn't understand why, after three months of training the master had taught him only one move. "Sensei," the boy finally said, "Shouldn't I be learning more moves?" "This is the only move you know, but this is the only move you'll ever need to know," the sensei replied. Not quite understanding, but believing in his teacher, the boy kept training. <br /><br />Several months later, the sensei took the boy to his first tournament. Surprising himself, the boy easily won his first two matches. The third match proved to be more difficult, but after some time, his opponent became impatient and charged; the boy deftly used his one move to win the match. Still amazed by his success, the boy was now in the finals. This time, his opponent was bigger, stronger, and more experienced.. For a while, the boy appeared to be overmatched. Concerned that the boy might get hurt, the referee called a time-out. He was about to stop the match when the sensei intervened. <br /><br />"No," the sensei insisted, "Let him continue." Soon after the match resumed, his opponent made a critical mistake: he dropped his guard. Instantly, the boy used his move to pin him. The boy had won the match and the tournament. <br /><br />He was the champion. On the way home, the boy and sensei reviewed every<br />move in each and every match. Then the boy summoned the courage to ask what was really on his mind. "Sensei, how did I win the tournament with only one move?" "You won for two reasons," the sensei answered. "First, you've almost mastered one of the most difficult throws in all of judo. And second, the only known defense for that move is for your opponent to grab your left arm." The boy's biggest weakness had become his biggest strength.<br /><br />"Sometimes we feel that we have certain weaknesses and we blame god, the circumstances and our self for it but we never know that our weakness can become our strength one day. Each of us is special and important, so never think you have any weakness, never think of pride or pain, just live your life to its fullest and extract the best out of it!" </span><o:p></O:P></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-3492190213191127242008-02-13T09:23:00.000-08:002008-02-13T09:25:11.572-08:00Story of Robby.<span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="postbody"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">( This is the story of Robby. )</span></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><br /><br /><span class="postbody">He was a young boy who lived with his elderly Mother. His mother wanted him to learn how to play the piano because she Longed to hear her son play for her. She sent her son to a piano teacher who Took Robby in under her guidance. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">However, there was one small problem Because Robby was not musically inclined and therefore was very slow in Learning. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">The teacher did not have much faith in the boy because of his Weakness. The mother was very enthusiastic and every week she would send Robby to the teacher. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">One day Robby stopped attending the piano lessons. The teacher thought that He had given up and in fact she was quite pleased since she did not give Much hope to Robby. Not long after, the piano teacher was given the task to Organize a piano concert in town. She sent out circulars to invite the Students and public to attend the event. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">Suddenly, she received a call from Robby who offered to take part in the concert. The teacher told Robby that He was not good enough and that he was no longer a student since he had Stopped coming for lessons. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">Robby begged her to give him a chance and Promised that he would not let her down. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">Finally, she gave in and she put him to play last, hoping that he will Change his mind at the last minute. When the big day came, the hall was Packed and the children gave their best performance. Finally , </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">It was Robby's Turn to play and as his name was announced, he walked in. He was not in Proper attire and his hair was not properly groomed. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">The teacher was really Nervous since Robby's performance could spoil the whole evening's brilliant Performance. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">As Robby started playing the crowd became silent and was amazed At the skill of this little boy. In fact, he gave the best performance of The evening. At the end of his presentation the crowd and the piano teacher Gave him a standing ovation. The crowd asked Robby how he managed to play so Brilliantly. </span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">With a microphone in front of him, he said, "I was not able to Attend the weekly piano lessons as there was no one to send me because my Mother was sick with cancer. She just passed away this morning and I wanted Her to hear me play. You see, this is the first time she is able to hear me Play because when she was alive she was deaf and now I know she is listening To me. I have to play my best for her!" </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="postbody">MORAL OF THE STORY :::</span><br /><br /><span class="postbody">This is indeed a touching story of love and excellence. When you have a </span><br /><span class="postbody">Passion and a reason to do something, you will surely excel. You may not be Talented or gifted but if you have a strong enough reason to do something, You will be able to tap into your inner God given potential. </span><br /></span>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-89772294635399847152008-02-13T09:18:00.000-08:002008-02-13T09:22:47.937-08:00Success.<span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Success eludes many people because they define it too narrowly. They see it only in superficial terms of money, or fame, or power, and completely miss the real essence of success. </span><p style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">If you strive solely for material wealth, or influence, or the praise of others, then you're merely pursuing the empty shell of success, without ever attaining success itself. Such an approach rarely ever works, and even when it does it quickly crumbles. </p><p style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Real success comes from adding value to the world in your own special way. And every day presents you with an abundance of opportunities for doing that. </p><p style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Today is no exception. This very day, you can be as successful as the world's most widely acclaimed billionaire, simply by using what you have, to do what you can. </p><p style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Success is found in directing your life toward a meaningful purpose. No amount of money, or power, or fame can ever equal that. </p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-73233743937456761212008-02-13T09:17:00.000-08:002008-02-13T09:18:21.798-08:00Great Quotation<p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span>Ability is a poor man's Wealth. </span></span></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-37460961495395549082008-02-13T09:14:00.000-08:002008-02-13T09:15:41.751-08:00SUCCESS.<div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);" align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;">Some people succeed because they are destined to, </span></div> <div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);" align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;">But most people succeed because they are determined to.<br /></span></div>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-22864826182747577572008-02-13T09:11:00.000-08:002008-02-13T09:13:20.199-08:00WINNERS VERSUS LOSERS.<p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Winner is always part of the answer;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Loser is always part of the problem.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Winner always has a program;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Loser always has an excuse.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Winner says, "Let me do it for you";<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Loser says, "That is not my job."<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Winner sees an answer for every problem;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Loser sees a problem for every answer.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Winner says, "It may be difficult but it is possible";<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">The Loser says, "It may be possible but it is too difficult."<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">When a Winner makes a mistake, he says, "I was wrong";<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">When a Loser makes a mistake, he says, "It wasn't my fault."<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">A Winner makes commitments;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">A Loser makes promises.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Winners have dreams;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Losers have schemes.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Winners say, "I must do something";<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Losers say, "Something must be done."<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Winners are a part of the team;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Losers are apart from the team.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Winners see the gain;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Losers see the pain.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Winners see possibilities;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Losers see problems.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">¨ </span></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Winners believe in win-win;<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;">Losers believe for them to win someone has to lose.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3885943743238558321.post-44570708985571014852008-02-13T09:06:00.000-08:002008-02-13T09:10:52.620-08:00BORN TO WIN.<p class="MsoNormal" style=""><b style=""><i><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">An eagle's egg was placed in the nest of a prairie chicken. The egg hatched and the little eagle grew up thinking it was a prairie chicken. The eagle did what the prairie chickens did. It scratched in the dirt for seeds. It clucked and cackled. It never flew more than a few feet because that is what the prairie chickens did. One day he saw an eagle flying gracefully and majestically in the open sky. He asked the prairie chickens: "What is that beautiful bird?" The chickens replied, "That is an eagle. He is an outstanding bird, but you cannot fly like him because you are just a prairie chicken." So the eagle never gave it a second thought, believing that to be the truth. He lived the life of and died a prairie chicken, depriving himself of his heritage because of his lack of vision. What a waste! He was born to win, but was conditioned to lose.</span></i></b><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>Achiever.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10462093502849243956noreply@blogger.com0