Christmas flowers Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't wear boots; he didn't like them and anyway he didn't own any. The thin sneakers he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold. Bobby had been in his back yard for about an hour already. And, try as he might, he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift. He shook his head as he thought, "This is useless, even if I do come up with an idea, I don't have any money to spend." Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care, or try, there just never seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that she was earning could only be stretched so far. What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran the household in their mother's absence. All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother. Somehow it just wasn't fair. Here it was Christmas Eve already, and he had nothing. Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down to the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six without a father, especially when he needed a man to talk to. Bobby walked from shop to shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful and so out of reach. It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the setting sun's rays reflecting off of something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime. Never before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment. As he held his new found treasure, a warmth spread throughout his entire body and he walked into the first store he saw. His excitement quickly turned cold when salesperson after salesperson told him that he could not buy anything with only a dime. He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one flower for his mother's Christmas gift. The shop owner looked at Bobby and his ten cent offering. Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him, "You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you." As Bobby waited, he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy, he could see why mothers and girls liked flowers. The sound of the door closing as the last customer left, jolted Bobby back to reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid. Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter. There, before Bobby's eyes, lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all tied together with a big silver bow. Bobby's heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed them gently into a long white box. "That will be ten cents young man," the shop owner said reaching out his hand for the dime. Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. Could this be true? No one else would give him a thing for his dime! Sensing the boy's reluctance, the shop owner added, "I just happened to have some roses on sale for ten cents a dozen. Would you like them?" This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry Christmas, son." As he returned inside, the shop keepers wife walked out. "Who were you talking to back there and where are the roses you were fixing?" Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind or what, but I set them aside anyway. Then just a few minutes ago, a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small dime. When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too was a poor boy with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A bearded man, whom I never knew, stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars. When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who's voice that was, and I put together a dozen of my very best roses." The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, but they somehow didn't feel the cold at all. ----------------------------------------------------------------- I Am So Blessed Today upon a bus I saw a lovely girl with golden hair, I envied her, she seemed so happy, and I wished I were as fair, When suddenly she rose to leave and I saw her hobble down the isle, She had one leg and wore a crutch, but as she passed, she smiled. Oh God, forgive me when I whine, I have two legs and the world is mine. Later on the way to work I stopped to buy some sweets, and the lad who sold them had such charm, I talked with him a while, if I were late it would do no harm, As I left he said, 'Thank you sir, you've been so kind, it's nice to talk to folks like you, ya' see,' he said, 'I'm blind.' Oh God forgive me when I whine, I have two eyes and the world is mine. Later walking down the street I saw a child with eyes of blue, He stood and watched the others play, it seemed he didn't know what to do, And I said, 'Why don't you go join the others, dear.' He looked straight ahead without a word, and then I knew he coulnd't hear. Oh God, forgive me when I whine, I have two ears and the world is mine. With legs to take me where I go, with eyes to see the sunsets glow, With ears to hear what I would know, Oh dear God, forgive me when I whine, I am blessed, INDEED, and the world is mine. ---------------------------------------------------------------- HOMELESS MAN It was a cold winter's day that Sunday. The parking lot to the church was filling up quickly. I noticed as I got out of my car fellow church members were whispering among themselves as they walked in the church. As I got closer I saw a man leaned up against the wall outside the church. He was almost laying down as if he was asleep. He had on a long trench coat that was almost in shreds and a hat topped his head, pulled down so you could not see his face. He wore shoes that looked 30 years old, too small for his feet, with holes all over them, his toes stuck out. I assumed this man was homeless, and asleep, so I walked on by through the doors of the church outside. People snickered and gossiped but no one bothered to ask him to come in, including me. A few moments later church began. We all fellowshipped for a few moments and someone brought up the man laying outside. People snickered and gossiped but no one bothered to ask him to come in, including me. A few moments later the church service began. We all waited for the preacher to take his place and to give us the Word when the doors to the church opened and in came the homeless man walking with his head down. People gasped and whispered and made faces. He made his way down the aisle and up into the pulpit where he took off his hat and coat. My heart sank. There stood our preacher...he was the homeless man! No one said a word. The preacher took his Bible and laid it on his stand. "Folks, I don't think I have to tell you what I'm preaching about today." ----------------------------------------------------------------- 100 YARD DASH A few years ago at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all physically or mentally disabled, assembled at the starting line for the 100-yard dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win. All, that is, except one boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a couple of times and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back. They all turned around and went back. Every one of them. One girl with Down's Syndrome bent down and kissed him and said, "This will make it better." All nine linked arms and walked across the finish line together. Everyone in the stadium stood, and the cheering went on for several minutes. People who were there are still telling the story. Why? Because deep down we know this one thing: What matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What truly matters in this life is helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing our course. ----------------------------------------------------------------- The Power of Kindness "I smiled at a sorrowful stranger" The smile seemed to make him feel better. He remembered a past kindness of a friend And wrote him a thank you letter. The friend was so pleased with the thank you That he left a large tip after lunch. The waitress, surprised by the size of the tip, Bet the whole thing on a hunch. The next day she picked up her winnings, And gave part to a man on the street. The man on the street was grateful; For two days he'd had nothing to eat. After he finished his dinner, He left for his small dingy room. He didn't know at that moment that he might be facing his doom. On the way he picked up a shivering puppy And took him home to get warm. The puppy was very grateful To be in out of the storm. That night the house caught on fire. The puppy barked the alarm. He barked till he woke the whole household And saved everybody from harm. One of the boys that he rescued Grew up to be President. All this because of a simple smile That hadn't cost a cent. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If We Listen It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home. Sitting in his car, he just began to pray, "God.. If you still speak to people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to serve your wishes." As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought, to stop and buy a gallon of milk. He shook his head and said out loud, "God is that you?" He didn't get a reply and started on toward home. But again, the thought was there, "Buy a gallon of milk." The young man thought about how he'd heard that not all those spoken to recognized God's quiet voice inside of one's mind. Then he said, "Okay, God, in case that is you, I will buy the milk." It didn't seem like too hard a request to fulfill. He could always use the milk himself if nothing else. So he stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started off toward home. As he passed Seventh street, he again felt the urge, "Turn down that street." "This is crazy," he thought and drove on pass the intersection. Again, he felt that he should turn down seventh street. At the next intersection, he turned back and headed down Seventh. Half jokingly, he said out loud, "Okay, God, I will." He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop. He pulled over to the curb and looked around. He was in a semi-commercial area of town. It wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst of neighborhoods either. The businesses were closed and most of the houses looked dark like the people were already in bed. Again, he sensed something, "Go and give the milk to the people in the house across the street." The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started to open the door and then sat back in the car seat. "God, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going to be mad and I will look stupid." Again, he felt like he should go and give the milk. Finally, he opened the car door, "Okay God, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will give them the milk. If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to do as I wish. I guess that will count for something, but if they don't answer right away, I am out of here." He walked across the street and rang the bell. He could hear some noise inside. A man's voice yelled out, "Who is it? What do you want?" Then the door opened before the young man could get away. The man was standing there in his jeans and t-shirt. He looked like he'd just gotten out of bed. He had a strange look on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his doorstep. "What is it?" The young man thrust out the gallon of milk. "Here, I brought this to you," he said nervously. The man took the milk and rushed down a hall way speaking loudly in Spanish. Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk toward the kitchen. The man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears streaming down his face. The man began speaking and half crying, "We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to get some milk." His wife in the kitchen yelled out, "I ask Him to send an Angel with some milk. Are you an Angel?" In response to hearing this, the young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him and put in the man's hand. He turned and walked back toward his car as the tears were streaming down his face. He knew that God still answers prayers and that God still speaks to people. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A CHRISTMAS STORY - Gold slippers It was only five days before Christmas. The spirit of the season hadn't yet caught up with me, even though cars packed the parking lot of our Houston area Target Shopping Center. Inside the store, it was worse. Shopping carts and last minute shoppers jammed the aisles. Why did I come today? I wondered. My feet ached almost as much as my head. My list contained names of several people who claimed they wanted nothing, but I knew their feelings would be hurt if I didn't buy them anything. Buying for someone who had everything and deploring the high cost of items, I considered gift-buying anything but fun. Hurriedly, I filled my shopping cart with last minute items and proceeded to the long checkout lines. I picked the shortest but it looked as if it would mean at least a 20 minute wait. In front of me were two small children a boy of about 10 and a younger girl about 5. The boy wore a ragged coat. Enormously large, tattered tennis shoes jutted far out in front of his much too short jeans. He clutched several crumpled dollar bills in his grimy hands. The girl's clothing resembled her brother's. Her head was a matted mass of curly hair. Reminders of an evening meal showed on her small face. She carried a beautiful pair of shiny, gold house slippers. As the Christmas music sounded in the store's stereo system, the girl hummed along off-key but happily. When we finally approached the checkout register, the girl carefully placed the shoes on the counter. She treated them as though they were a treasure. The clerk rang up her bill. "That will be $6.09" the clerk said, as the boy laid his crumpled dollars atop the stand while he searched his pockets finally coming up with $3.12. "I guess we will have to put them back, " he bravely said. "We will come back some other time, maybe tomorrow." With that statement, a soft sob broke from the little girl. "But Jesus would have loved these shoes," she cried. "Well, we'll go home and work some more. Don't cry. We'll come back," he said. Quickly I handed $3.00 to the cashier. These children had waited in line for a long time. And, after all, it was Christmas. Suddenly a pair of arms came around me and a small voice said, "Thank you Sir." "What did you mean when you said Jesus would like the shoes?" I asked. The small boy answered, "Our mommy is sick and going to heaven. Daddy said she might go before Christmas to be with Jesus." The girl spoke, "My Sunday school teacher said the streets in heaven are shiny gold, just like these shoes. Won't mommy be beautiful walking on streets to match these shoes?" My eyes flooded as I looked into her tear streaked face. "Yes," I answered, "I am sure she will." Silently I thanked God for using these children to remind me of the true spirit of giving. Christmas is not about the amount of money paid, nor the amount of gifts purchased, nor trying to impress friends and relatives. Christmas is about the love in your heart to share with those as Jesus Christ has shared with each of us. Christmas is about the Birth of Jesus whom God sent to show the world how much he really loves us. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 3 Smiles I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with. Her last project of the term was called "Smile." The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reaction. I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say, hello anyway.....so, I thought, this would be a piece of cake, literally. Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonalds, on a crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special play time with our son. We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not move an inch...an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved. As I turned around, I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell,and there standing behind me were two, poor homeless men. As I looked down at the shortest gentleman, close to me, he was smiling. His beautiful sky-blue eyes were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance. He said, "Good day" as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally deficient, and the blue-eyed gentleman was his salvation. I held my tears as I stood there with them. The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, "Coffee is all, Miss." because that was all they could afford to be able to sit in the restaurant and warm up; they had to buy something ..they just wanted to be warm. Then I really felt it...a compulsion so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me...judging my reaction. I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue eyed gentleman's cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Thank you." I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said," I did not do this for you...God is here working through me to give you hope." I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you to me, honey....to give me hope." We held hands for a moment, and at that time we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given, were we able to give. We are not church goers, but we are believers. That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love. I returned college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand. I turned in "my project" and the instructor read it....then she looked up at me and said, "Can I share this?" I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read and that is when I knew that we, as human beings and being part of God, share this need to heal people and be healed. In my own way I had touched the people at McDonalds, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student. I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn....UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Les Brown One day in 11th grade, I went into a classroom to wait for a friend of mine. When I went into the room, the teacher, Mr. Washington, suddenly appeared and asked me to go to the board to write something, to work something out. I told him that I couldn't do it. And he said, "Why not?" I said, "Because I'm not one of your students." He said, "It doesn't matter. Go to the board anyhow." I said, "I can't do that." He said, "Why not?" And I paused because I was somewhat embarrassed. I said, "Because I'm Educable Mentally Retarded." He came from behind his desk and he looked at me and he said, "Don't ever say that again. Someone's opinion of you does not have to become your reality." It was a very liberating moment for me. On one hand, I was humiliated because the other students laughed at me. They knew that I was in Special Education. But on the other hand, I was liberated because he began to bring to my attention that I did not have to live within the context of what another person's view of me was. And so Mr. Washington became my mentor. Prior to this experience, I had failed twice in school. I was identified as Educable Mentally Retarded in the fifth grade, was put back from the fifth grade into the fourth grade, and failed again, when I was in the eighth grade. So this person made a dramatic difference in my life. I always say that he operates in the consciousness of Goethe, who said, "Look at a man the way that he is, he only becomes worse. But look at him as if he were what he could be, and then he becomes what he should be." Like Calvin Lloyd, Mr. Washington believed that "Nobody rises to low expectations." This man always gave students the feeling that he had high expectations for them and we strove, all of the students strove, to live up to what those expectations were. One day, when I was still a junior, I heard him giving a speech to some graduating seniors. He said to them, "You have greatness within you. You have something special. If just one of you can get a glimpse of a larger vision of yourself, of who you really are, of what it is you bring to the planet, of your specialness, then in a historical context, the world will never be the same again. You can make your parents proud. You can make your school proud. You can make your community proud. You can touch millions of people's lives." He was talking to the seniors, but it seemed like that speech was for me. I remember when they gave him a standing ovation. Afterwards, I caught up to him in the parking lot and I said, "Mr. Washington, do you remember me? I was in the auditorium when you were talking to the seniors." He said, "What were you doing there? You are a junior." I said, "I know. But that speech you were giving, I heard your voice coming through the auditorium doors. That speech was for me, Sir. You said they had greatness within them. I was in that auditorium. Is there greatness within me, Sir?" He said, "Yes, Mr. Brown." "But what about the fact that I failed English and math and history, and I'm going to have to go to summer school. What about that, Sir? I'm slower than most kids. I'm not as smart as my brother or my sister who're going to the University of Miami." "It doesn't matter. It just means that you have to work harder. Your grades don't determine who you are or what you can produce in your life." "I want to buy my mother a home." "It's possible, Mr. Brown. You can do that." And he turned to walk away again. "Mr. Washington?" "What do you want now?" "Uh, I'm the one, Sir. You remember me, remember my name. One day you're gonna hear it. I'm gonna make you proud. I'm the one, Sir." School was a real struggle for me. I was passed from one grade to another because I was not a bad kid. I was a nice kid; I was a fun kid. I made people laugh. I was polite. I was respectful. So teachers would pass me on, which was not helpful to me. But Mr. Washington made demands on me. He made me accountable. But he enabled me to believe that I could handle it - that I could do it. He became my instructor my senior year, even though I was Special Education. Normally, Special Ed students don't take Speech and Drama, but they made special provisions for me to be with him. The principal realized the kind of bonding that had taken place and the impact that he'd made on me because I had begun to do well academically. For the first time in my life I made the honor roll. I wanted to travel on a trip with the drama department and you had to be on the honor roll in order to make the trip out of town. That was a miracle for me! Mr. Washington restructured my own picture of who I am. He gave me a larger vision of myself, beyond my mental conditioning and my circumstances. Years later, I produced five specials that appeared on public television. I had some friends call him when my program, "You Deserve," was on the educational television channel in Miami. I was sitting by the phone waiting when he called me in Detroit. He said, "May I speak to Mr. Brown, please?" "Who's calling?" "You know who's calling." "Oh, Mr. Washington, it's you." "You were the one, weren't you?" "Yes, Sir, I was." Written by: Les Brown ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What do you see, nurse? What do you see nurses, what do You see? Are you thinking when you are Looking at me - A crabbit old woman, not very Wise, Uncertain of Habit, with far-away Eyes. Who dribbles her food and makes No reply When you say in a loud voice -- "I do wish you'd try." Who seems not to notice the Things that you do. And forever is losing a stocking Or a shoe. Who unresisting or not, lets you Do as you will. With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill. Is that what you are thinking -- Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse, you're Not looking at me. I'll tell you who I am as I sit Here so still: As I use at your bidding, as I eat At your will, I'm a small child of ten with a Father and mother, Brothers and sisters, who love one Another. A young girl of sixteen with wings On her feet. Dreaming that soon now a lover She'll meet; A bride soon at twenty - my heart Gives a leap. Remembering the vows that I Promised to keep; At twenty-five now I have young Of my own, Who need me to build a secure, Happy Home; A woman of thirty, my young now Grow fast, Bound to each other with ties that Should last; At forty, my young sons have Grown and are gone, But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn. At fifty, once more babies play Round my knee. Again we know children, my loved One and me. Dark days are upon me, my Husband is dead, I look at the future, I shudder With dread. For my young are all rearing Young of their own. And I think of the years and the Love that I've known. I'm an old woman now and nature Is cruel - Tis her jest to make old age look Like a fool. The body it crumbles, grace and Vigor depart There is now a stone where I once Had a heart: But inside this old carcass a young Girl still dwells. And now and again my battered Heart swells. I remember the joys, I remember The Pain. And I'm loving and living life Over again. I think of the years all too few - Gone too fast. And accept the stark fact that Nothing can last. So open your eyes, nurses, open And see Not a crabbit old woman, look Closer -- see ME! CLICK HERE FOR NEXT STORIES
