Reasons of Juvenile Delinquents

On the one hand, education, I think, shouldn't be reluctant to burden the responsibility of these cases. Currently, when most people think of the word "education", they think of a pupil as a sort of animate sausage casing. Into this empty casing, custom Inflatable Obstacle the teachers are supposed to stuff "education". In this way, students were so stuffed with miscellaneous facts, with an indigestible mass of material, that they had no time to draw on their own resources, to use their own minds for analyzing and synthesizing, and evaluating this material. It is imaginable that how it would be when children find they have to confront the teachers with an ax to grind everyday. This way of education is undoubtedly tedious and futile. Genuine education, as Socrates knew more than two thousand years ago, is not inserting the suffings of information into a person, but rather eliciting knowledge from him, it is drawing out of what is in the mind. Only this way can steer the children toward a glorious future, instead of wandering in the dark corners of streets and bearing endless tediousness of unscrupulous lectures.
On the other hand, parents should also share a responsibility for these cases. As the epoch approaching, comparing to the past, parents nowadays confront more pressures. These pressures are so deeply intertwined that crises would sometimes be exploded in the parents, such as parents' separation, fathers' excessively alcoholic drinking. All these in their turns affect the children's mental characters to some extent imaginable. Therefore, children in this environment often find themselves stand at the brink of no cares and loves from their parents. Obviously, as surveys have displayed, children become the victims of the from-time-to-time crises between their parents.

The Popularity of Korean Serials

Recent time people have been witnessing the popularity of Korean serials in China. Many Korean serials have been showed on CCTV-8 even CCTV-1, let alone other local channels. And it is hard to get through a day without some talk about Korean serials. kid Air Dancer They enjoy high watching rate and have profound influences on people.
My grandmother used to be strongly against watching TV, and insisted that TV did little good to people, especially the youth who indulged themselves in watching TV. But from unknown time, Grandmother became interested in watching TV, and now and then, she would talk about the actors and plot with me. Gradually, she would be seated in front of the TV waiting for her favorite Korean serials, whenever she has got time. This summer I also felt deeply about the popularity of Korean serials, thereafter, I asked why. Basically, they are the visual effects, the plot, and the music that contribute to the phenomenon.
First of all, Korean serials are eye-catching. They usually have handsome actors and beautiful actresses. Zhang Dong Jian’s gentlemanship and An Zai Xu’s fascinating eyesight catch thousands of young female’s hearts, while young male greatly appreciate Song Hui Qiao’s elegance and Xin Xi Shan’s beauty. Regardless of their skills and other factors like the plot, the actors function effectively in keeping a watching record.
In addition, they get marvelous pictures, from which we enjoy changeable seasons and places of interest in Korea. Blue sky and white cloud signify good state of mind of the characters, and drizzling weather and red umbrella intensify romantic impression. So watching them is just like enjoying free trips.
Then comes to the plot of Korean serials, which can attract people of various ages. Most Korean serials have supporting characters who behave like either Cinderella’s sisters or BaoYu’s father, so the main characters, as a result, would have to suffer and experience a lot before their final weddings. Some people argue that the story between the main characters maybe too romantic to believe, however, these people seem to neglect to take into account that their love is what most young people are actually longing for. So, serials of this kind are young people’s favorite.
Quite a number of our serials fail to consider many factors other than love, and the case in point is Qiong Yao’s work, in which love seems to be the only thing in life. However, Korean serials conversely take friendship and family relationship as well into the plot, and these are the very things that attract people in both middle and old ages, as they make the serials humorous, reliable, and close to ordinary audience. The popularity of “Kan Le You Kan” and “Luan Sheng Xiong Mei” proves the case very well.

Should We Encourage Courtship on Campus?

There is much disagreement over whether it is a curse or a blessing upon campus students to have a girlfriend or boyfriend.outdoor Inflatable Obstacle Some people maintain that this kind of relation is meaningless, other people, however, argue that courtship is a valuable part of their college life. It is true that courtship provides some benefits, but we may fail to afford such expensive affair, especially for boys.
Doubtless to say, a girlfriend or boyfriend may boost you up on some occasions. If you were not in love, perhaps you will attend lectures shock-headed. But things won’t happen when you fall in love with someone. You are inclined to make yourself look the best to appeal to the certain person. At the same time, you will work hard to make sure that you are the one who deserves his or her love, the one he or she can spend the time with, the right one who he or she is looking for. In addition, this relationship helps you cope with the others. Since most of us are the only child in our family, we may be lacking in capability to deal with other people, especially the opposite sex, though we do not hope so. Courtship may help one develop such skill and answers the longing for having a relationship with the opposite sex.
Although I am aware of the advantages courtship on campus provides, I insist that the disadvantages far outweigh them. As far as I concern it is over costly, especially for boys. No matter where we are, we could be in China, in Japan, in American, in Vietnam, in Congo, in Russia, if we want to be a gentleman we should always offer to pay. That is, to a large extent, a burden on campus students. It really bothers me. When I was in love, I was often in a pinch in the middle of the month. If you were a girl, this may not the case. In addition, single is simple, double may cause trouble. There are occasions when we drink in staying alone and doing nothing but fancying. But if you were not single, this seems to be a luxury for you. Furthermore, the statistics show that most couples will part when they graduate. Their college lives come to an end, their relations come to an end, their connection comes to an end. What’s worse, the one with a lover is more likely to ignore the sincere friendship on campus. Would they reject accepting her or his invitation to see a movie and get together with their roommates? They may prefer to be with their sweethearts other than their mates.

My First Career Experience

Perhaps the greatest challenge I have faced during my undergraduate years was entering hospital as a medic. Even now,custom Inflatable Arch I still remember the things which happened to me the first day I went into the gynecological department. Wearing our new white gowns, my teacher and I began to diagnose and treat patients at eight o'clock in the morning. At the beginning, several patients came here and my teacher got very busy. After each patient's case history had been asked, they were examined in the examination room. As for me, I only paid attention to how my teacher wrote down the medical records and never went into the examination room. Half an hour later, my teacher began to communicate with me.
“Why don't you come into the examination room?”she asked.
(I was a man of few words and I would blush if I met a girl, let alone having to do a gynecological examination.) “I think it's too embarrassing,”I answered.
“But you can't forget that you are a doctor. If you are shy, you are not able to practice in this department,”she said seriously.
At that moment, I felt very confused. Just ten minutes later another patient came, when my teacher was preparing to examine her, I hesitated to walk into the entrance of the room. “Please help me － give me the medical gloves.” My teacher had noticed me.I had to get into the room and pass her the gloves. She asked the patient to take off her dress, but the patient refused.
“Why not taking off your dress?” my teacher asked.
“I think that man should go away”, she pointed at me.
“Never mind, he is our successor as well as a doctor in our hospital.”
Quite obediently, the patient took off her dress and we finished the examination. To my surprise, my teacher asked me to conduct the examination by myself when the next patient came. Under much stress I entered the examination room and pretended to be experienced. In fact, I was so nervous that my heart was beating very fast. I tried my best to calm down.
“Have you ever examined any patients before? You seem to be very young.” The patient asked.
“Yes, I have worked here for two years and I will do my best to examine you .If there is any question, I will consult that old doctor. We are always responsible for every patient.”
Hearing my words, the patient seemed to be relaxed, and I continued the examination successfully. Going out of the room, I told all this to my teacher and she was satisfied with me.

When We Break Up

I am always living under the illusion that we can keep our past promise,but now,I come to disclose the shadow presvered in my heart.
The ending of his journey is not corresponding with mine,for we often head for different cities,and that is why we start from the same point,still cannot reach the same destination.
Every time,we start from our hometown,talking heatily on the train.We keep silent till the moment I see him off for his school Inflatable Castle house .A gust of sorrow influxes into my whole body.I reach the point of sheding my tears.Gazing at the shadow of his departure till dispearing into the blur of mist,I never feel a strong force erupted from my inner heart ever before.
On the aftermath of the spring festival,we met each other as had expected.To my great disappoint,we became more off-the-scene.I am prone to attribute it to the gradually warmer weather or the longer distance between us.During the days at school,whenever I confront people displaying their public affections either on campus or under the trees,my attention is always distracted.My affections fall into the river of love, as free as the seagull,hovering above the sky,emerging from the river.At that moment I often come to the feeling that I am jealous of those people in deep love,especailly he is far away with scant contact.Still,I am sure we will share a happier moment together,and we often convey such feelings via short messages.
Now and then a stream of solitary feeling will attack upon my whole body,evoking my memory of those happy days together.At a time ,we seldom keep in touch with each other,ensuring the frictions between our intensified relationship.Born with quite an optimistic attitude towards unexpected consequences.I convince myself of everything that will go as it should.
As times went by,we embraced the day of May Day,my big day.I met my love as expected,flying in ecstacy.Expectation can sometimes go against our wishes,and on that day we talked little till the moment we bade goodbye to each other. The next day,I saw him off at the bus station ,where we hugged tightly,hoping that it could last forever.

Book Report on The Curious Incident of the Dog

This book is interesting; it is a curious incident itself. I tried very hard to find out what is the book mainly talks about when I was reading it.kid Air Dancer General speaking, this book is a little bit abnormal. Firstly the chapters it has are all in prime numbers. Secondly, the whole book is made up by logical thoughts, almost no personal emotion, except Christopher’s uncomfortable feelings. Then, the book, the stories are in good order. Nothing hard ever been messed up. If once something was messed up, it would soon be put into order. Things that went on are just like those were put into a timetable. The last one is, I didn’t see any sign to show that this book has an ending.
By talking to other people, I found out that this is a book about a kid, who is sick and the illness always makes him to lock himself up. Christopher could always refuse to speak to strangers and touch strange things and like to make and see all things in perfect order. He believed everything has an answer and everything has a formula. When I said, ”this book is interesting”. I also meant, “I like this book”, and Christopher is the main reason why I like it and am familiar with it. Because of that I have a very best friend who is just like Christopher is: Easily get scared, need much more security than normal People, like everything be in order, not very talkative, do not like changing, and very sensitive, except she’s a girl.
I like to be with her, because I know she needs a friend. A real friend to accept her as who she is, to understand her, and so does Christopher.
In the book, in my opinion, Siobhan, his teacher is his closest friend and is trying very hard to help him get along with people.
Still there comes the question, why do people lock themselves up ? What makes them to act like this? They don’t receive enough love or they need more attention focus on them? Usually people, who have sickness in their minds, do not have a happy family background. Christopher, father and mother were always arguing, and his mother was not so patient. My friend, her father had died before she was born, and had been told a lie that his father was in America for 12 yeas before she discovered it herself. Maybe it’s the lie and argument, which made them feel not safe, and so they became sensitive and are afraid of changing. The best way to comfort them and help them is to build up a strong faith that you can be trusted .

Real Openness

Kung Fu Panda is a new animated film of DreamWorks, which is set in ancient China and describes how a panda tries to realize his dream. Inflatable Obstacle for sale In terms of the contents, it seems that there is nothing negative in the film. Nevertheless, since its arrival in China about two months ago, criticism has never stopped being heard.
There are two kinds of censures in general. To begin with, some critics argue the western filmmakers turn a cuddly, simple panda into a greedy, sly one, which distorts the image of China’s national treasure. Then, they judge many Chinese traditional and cultural things are harmed in the film, for example, martial arts’ being westernized.
To have my own point of view, I also watched Kung Fu Panda, in which, though, what they criticize did not come into my eyes. By contrast, I saw a hardworking animated panda and good comprehension of Chinese tradition and culture in the westerner-made film.
Nowadays, a country could neither exist nor develop without relating to other ones. In 1978, China carried out the reform and opening-up policy, since which we have been trying to amplify the connection with the world. Besides technology, economy and the like, culture, custom and history are as well what we share to enhance the understanding between the world and ourselves. As a result, appearances of Chinese elements out of China are ordinary or maybe just what we expect.
Yet when that really happens, there are always some individuals who stand in an opposite position. Their doing so is perhaps due to patriotism, or other reasons. However, real openness should also include ideological notion, instead of being merely confined to material aspects. For instance, when seeing foreigners’ acceptance of our characteristic things, far from expressing criticism, we ought to feel glad and proud so long as they are respected, because it is a signal that we are blending into the world.

Why People Should Study History

In 1998, I received a scholarship to study for an undergraduate degree at Yale University. During my four years at Yale, cheap Inflatable Tent I explored a broad array of subjects: economics, German language and literature, mathematics, English literature, etc., but the subject I was most committed to intellectually was history. The ten history courses I took at Yale included ancient Greek history, Roman history, medieval European history, the Reformation, the European intellectual history of the 18th and 19th centuries, and the history of modern Russia and modern Germany. When I told other Chinese that I was studying history at Yale, many talked as if I were a slacker evading science and engineering programs, or a loser who couldn't make it in computer science or electrical engineering; others wondered why I had chosen such an impractical subject.
Both responses reflect the deeply ingrained prejudice of many Chinese against the humanities - and are grossly erroneous. Studying history at a great American university is neither easy nor impractical. In some sense, I learned my most important lessons through struggling with the difficulties of studying history. My history courses posed a much bigger academic challenge than my previous experience in Tsinghua as a freshman in biochemistry, or in Tsinghua Fuzhong's experimental accelerated science program. I came away from those four arduous years at Yale tremendously enriched.
　Most history classes at Yale require attending two or three lectures a week, a weekly discussion section, relentless reading assignments of 200 or more pages a week, a midterm and final exam, and two papers. At the beginning, just taking notes on lectures and finishing the reading on time were daunting challenges; writing papers was nightmarish. My trouble with papers generally started the moment they were assigned. The topics were indeterminate, e.g. "write about any topic of your choice in ancient Greek history", "write a book review for a book of your choice" from a reading list of fifty books on medieval history or "compare and contrast selected passages from Karl Marx's Das Kapital and Alexis de Tocqueville's Democracy in America." The expected end result is a paper making a coherent argument that draws its supporting evidence or ideas from several books or journal articles. The subtext to such assignments is: whatever you say in the paper has to reflect your own thinking; hence simply repeating the professor's opinions or whatever is in the readings will not get you very far. In the first week of my Yale career it was hammered home to us that plagiarism was the capital crime in the academic world. Each year there are students who are punished for plagiarizing.
　Looking at a paper assignment, my mind often went blank: ANY topics in ancient Greek history? But which one, andswheresto start? Even after I was able to narrow the topic down to, say, the career of Pericles, there were still thousands of books and articles written on it. What was my main argument to be? What points should I make? What information should I include in the paper to support my argument? I would spend hours going through hundreds and hundreds of pages of reading with no clue what to write on. I spent so many nights pacing back and forth in the library, trying to define a topic and choose my arguments. And I was hardly the only person with this problem: Yale students complain about papers as much as Londoners complain about the weather. Pulling all-nighters to finish a paper is part of the shared memory of those "bright college years".
I gradually realized the value of such seemingly unguided education. Allowing students great scope in choosing their own paper topics reflects the Western belief in individual initiative. Students are encouraged to make their own choices and go wherever their interests lead them. On a different level, in the process of groping for a topic, then screening the available material, and finally using it to make an intelligent argument, students learn the important lesson of rapidly processing and critically utilizing a large amount of information. This is an important skill not only in historical research, but in many careers outside the academic world,swheresinformation comes in the form of a tangled mess, not neat textbook passages to be spoon-fed to passive "learners".

The 'In' Crowd and Social Cruelty Among Kids, Competition to Belong Is Fierce

The bully of my middle school in Wilmette,sale Inflatable Castle Ill., scared me so much, I dreamed about him. I'd walk blocks out of the way to avoid him. I'm now 55, yet the fear is still fresh.
And I wasn't even a prime target. I was just an average geek, not one of the "bottom 20 percent" - the kids who really worry psychologist Michael Thompson.
Thompson, author of Best Friends, Worst Enemies, says almost every school has an "in" crowd, popular kids who decide what's "cool." The "cool" kids are followed in Thompson's social hierarchy by the roughly 60 percent of kids who are "in the middle." Then there are the "victims," the roughly 20 percent of kids who lack the social skills to make many friends. They are often not only excluded, but picked on or severely bullied.
"There's a ferocious competition at the top," said Thompson. "It's particularly rugged in middle school because the need to be part of a group is so human. It's so primate."
What makes someone popular? For middle school girls, Thompson said, the top three criteria are looks, clothes and charisma. For boys, he said it's athletic ability, stature and humor.
"Everybody knows who's cool and who's not," said a sixth-grade girl in Engelwood, N.J. "It's obvious."
Cruelty Adults Rarely See
ABCNEWS obtained copies of Canadian research tapes that followed bullies in school playgrounds - cruelty that adults rarely see. It's horrifying to watch. The tapes show other kids passively watching as bullies kick and punch victims. Worse, sometimes the other kids all "pile on," joining in with the bully.
"To identify with the victim makes you feel weak," explained Thompson. "To identify with the aggressor makes you feel strong."
The footage also shows that kids are often so desperate to be part of a group, they'd rather be punched and kicked than be alone.
"No attention is worse than this type of attention," said psychology professor Wendy Craig. "If he wants to belong, he has to take it."
Former bullies and former victims agreed to talk about their experiences. One 16-year-old explained that he became a bully because he wanted to stand out.
"I wasn't very popular," said Michael from East Lyme, Conn. "I figured, push people around, get people to see what I'm doing, that'll get my name out there, that'll get people to notice me."
While girls are less likely to bully physically, they do it, too.
"It was fun for me to see people cry," said Jenny, a 17-year-old from New York City. "I used to continue doing it for the simple fact because they used to cry."
Another bully said he was fully aware he was making life miserable for some of his classmates, and he still looks back on those days with apparent pride.
"I made someone bulimic because I was very continuous about that they were fat and stuff," he said proudly.
Helping These Kids
Some kids are permanently damaged by such bullying. They are at greater risk of depression, and of sacrificing their education - because you can't learn when you're afraid.
For the kids who are constantly picked on, said Craig, "recess is the most terrifying moment of their day."
What can be done to help them? Parents and teachers must intervene, said Thompson. "Sometimes adults rationalize bullying as 'Well, that's kids,' when in fact, it's traumatic," said Thompson. "Those kids need to be protected."
In the Canadian study, teachers told researchers that they intervened to stop bullying all the time, but the tapes showed that they actually stepped in less than 5 percent of the time.
Some schools are actively trying to reduce bullying and social cruelty.
Jeff Parker, who runs an anti-bullying program, said good programs don't just fight bad behavior, but they also encourage good behavior. He teaches kids that the key to stopping bullying is in the hands of the bystanders.
If just one bystander says "stop," said Craig, or "don't hit my friend," the bully will stop half of the time. But rarely will that happen, Thompson added, because most kids are either afraid, entertained by bullying, or don't think speaking up will help.
At a school in the New York City borough of Staten Island, George Anthony tries to teach kids they have more choices than just accepting harassment. He runs a class for peer mediators, where he teaches students how to force the warring parties to hear each other's point of view.

All you remember

All you remember about your child being an infant is the incredible awe you felt about the precious miracle you created. You remember having plenty of time to bestow all your wisdom and knowledge. You thought your child would take all of your advice and make fewer mistakes, and be much smarter than you were. You wished for your child to hurry and grow up.
All you remember about your child being two is never using the restroom alone or getting to watch a movie without talking animals. You recall afternoons talking on the phone while crouching in the bedroom closet, and being convinced your child would be the first Ivy League1 college student to graduate wearing pullovers2 at the ceremony.Air Dancer for sale You remember worrying about the bag of M＆M's melting in your pocket and ruining your good dress. You wished for your child to be more independent.
All you remember about your child being five is the first day of school and finally having the house to yourself. You remember joining the PTA3 and being elected president when you left a meeting to use the restroom. You remember being asked "Is Santa real?" and saying "yes" because he had to be for a little bit longer. You remember shaking the sofa cushions for loose change4, so the toothfairy5 could come and take away your child's first lost tooth. You wished for your child to have all permanent teeth.
All you remember about your child being seven is the carpool6 schedule. You learned to apply makeup in two minutes and brush your teeth in the rearview mirror1 because the only time you had to yourself was when you were stopped at red lights. You considered painting your car yellow and posting a "taxi" sign on the lawn next to the garage door. You remember people staring at you, the few times you were out of the car, because you kept flexing2 your foot and making acceleration3 noises. You wished for the day your child would learn how to drive.
All you remember about your child being ten is managing the school fund�raisers. You sold wrapping paper for paint, T shirts for new furniture, and magazine subscriptions4 for shade trees in the school playground. You remember storing a hundred cases of candy bars in the garage to sell so the school band could get new uniforms, and how they melted together on an unseasonably5 warm spring afternoon. You wished your child would grow out of playing an instrument.

Words from the Heart

Most people need to hear those "three little words" I love you. Once in a while, they hear them just in time.
　　I met Connie the day she was admitted to the hospice1 ward, where I worked as a volunteer. Her husband, Bill,Inflatable Obstacle for sale stood nervously nearby as she was transferred from the gurney2 to the hospital bed. Although Connie was in the final stages of her fight against cancer, she was alert and cheerful. We got her settled in. I finished marking her name on all the hospital supplies she would be using, then asked if she needed anything.
　　"Oh, yes," she said, "would you please show me how to use the TV? I enjoy the soaps so much and I don't want to get behind on what's happening." Connie was a romantic. She loved soap operas, romance novels and movies with a good love story. As we became acquainted, she confided how frustrating it was to be married 32 years to a man who often called her "a silly woman."
　　"Oh, I know Bill loves me," she said, "but he has never been one to say he loves me, or send cards to me." She sighed and looked out the window at the trees in the courtyard. "I'd give anything if he'd say ‘I love you,' but it's just not in his nature."
　　Bill visited Connie every day. In the beginning, he sat next to the bed while she watched the soaps. Later, when she began sleeping more, he paced up and down the hallway outside her room. Soon, when she no longer watched television and had fewer waking moments, I began spending more of my volunteer time with Bill.
　　He talked about having worked as a carpenter and how he liked to go fishing. He and Connie had no children, but they'd been enjoying retirement by traveling, until Connie got sick. Bill could not express his feelings about the fact that his wife was dying.
　　One day, over coffee in the cafeteria, I got him on the subject of women and how we need romance in our lives; how we love to get sentimental1 cards and love letters.
　　"Do you tell Connie you love her?" I asked (knowing his answer), and he looked at me as if I was crazy.
　　"I don't have to," he said. "She knows I do!"
　　"I'm sure she knows," I said, reaching over and touching his hands rough, carpenter's hands that were gripping the cup as if it were the only thing he had to hang onto "but she needs to hear it, Bill. She needs to hear what she has meant to you all these years. Please think about it."
　　We walked back to Connie's room. Bill disappeared inside, and I left to visit another patient. Later, I saw Bill sitting by the bed. He was holding Connie's hand as she slept. The date was February 12.
　　Two days later I walked down the hospice ward at noon. There stood Bill, leaning up against the wall in the hallway, staring at the floor. I already knew from the head nurse that Connie had died at 11 A.M..
　　When Bill saw me, he allowed himself to come into my arms for a long time. His face was wet with tears and he was trembling. Finally, he leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.

the love

Freda Bright says, "Only in opera do people die of love." It's true. You really can't love somebody to death.yard Inflatable Tent I've known people to die from no love, but I've never known anyone to be loved to death. We just can't love one another enough.
A heart-warming story tells of a woman who finally decided to ask her boss for a raise in salary. All day she felt nervous and apprehensive. Late in the afternoon she summoned the courage to approach her employer. To her delight, the boss agreed to a raise.
The woman arrived home that evening to a beautiful table set with their best dishes. Candles were softly glowing. Her husband had come home early and prepared a festive meal. She wondered if someone from the office had tipped him off, or... did he just somehow know that she would not get turned down?
She found him in the kitchen and told him the good news. They embraced and kissed, then sat down to the wonderful meal. Next to her plate the woman found a beautifully lettered note. It read, "Congratulations, darling! I knew you'd get the raise! These things will tell you how much I love you."
Following the supper, her husband went into the kitchen to clean up. She noticed that a second card had fallen from his pocket. Picking it off the floor, she read, "Don't worry about not getting the raise! You deserve it anyway! These things will tell you how much I love you."
Someone has said that the measure of love is when you love without measure. What this man feels for his spouse is total acceptance and love, whether she succeeds or fails. His love celebrates her victories and soothes her wounds. He stands with her, no matter what life throws in their direction.
Upon receiving the Nobel Peace Prize, Mother Teresa said, "What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family." And love your friends. Love them without measure.

stupid kids

“Too dumb. custom Inflatable Castle You’ll never graduate from high school,” his elementary school teacher told 7-year-old Adam Zimmerman. Sure enough, he “failed” and was held back a grade.
　　Being left behind by friends made him feel like “trash”. But his teacher’s cutting comment changed his life. It transformed a kid with dyslexia into a person driven to succeed.
　　“Just because one person says something, don’t take their word, ” his mother told him. “Go out and prove them wrong. It’s not about the disability; it’s what you do about it.”
　　Zimmerman did graduate from high school, and at 5′7″ he excelled in two sports he was considered too small for: basketball and volleyball. He was MVP and All Conference in both.
　　That still wasn’t enough to earn him a big-time college scholarship. So he went to a Division Ⅱ school and worked on his game. And though a coach told him he’d never be a Division I basketball player, in his sophomore year he transferred to Marshall University in West Virginia, a Division I school. And he practiced and practiced. The following year he made the team as a walk-on player.
　　In May, the dumb kid who was too short graduate with a degree in sports management and marketing.
　　When he thinks back to that grade school teacher, he says, “I thank her for saying that. It’s unbelievable how a person’s words can stick in the back of your mind and push you to be more than what they say you can be.”

I Forgive You

Let go of bitterness.adult Inflatable Santa Marriage isn't the only relationship that needs forgiveness. It's required with our children,friends,workmates,neighbours and even strangers.In fact,no human relationship can survive without the oxygen of forgiveness.It's not an optional nicety for people who are into that kind of thing, it's a universal necessity for relationships and for your own health and sanity.
　I once met a couple whose daughter, Sarah, had been hit and killed by a drunk driver when she'd been out on her bike. She died instantly. The driver's guilt was never in doubt he didn't even have a valid licence, having lost it after a previous conviciton for drunk driving. He was jailed for manslaughter. But for Roger and Cathy, Sarah's parents, this wasn't enough. All they could think about was getting revenge on her killer. Sitting with them in their home years later, I was overwhelmed by their heartbreak. I can't even begin to imagine the horror of their ordeal. There's little doubt in my mind that justice wasn't served in the lightness of the sentence given to Sarah's killer, whose cold self�centredness and lack of remorse shocked me to the core.But at the same time, I couldn't help feeling greater sorrow at the way Roger and Cathy's continued reaction to her death was compounding their misery.
　Every day they were being consumed by a hatred and bitterness that made no impact whatsoever on Sarah's killer. Was this what she'd have wanted for her parents, this living hell that was destroying their lives? I couldn't help thinking that if Sarah could speak to them she would beg them to let go of their bitterness and begin to live again.
　Some of us may think that we've been hurt too deeply,or too often, to forgive.But ironically,it's those of us who've been most hurt who really need to forgive,for one simple reason:like cancer,bitterness can destroy its host. Unless it's swiftly rooted out,it takes hold and grows,crippling and eventually even killing those who insist on clinging determinedly to it.
　For the truth is that unless we can forgive, we can never recover. Our wounds will continue to fester and never heal. As the ancient Chinese proverb puts it:" whoever seeks revenge should dig two graves."
　Taking the first step For some people forgiveness feels impossible because they have no idea how to go about it. The first and most important thing you need to accept is that the act of forgiveness is not going to be easy. In fact, it will probably be the hardest thing most of us ever have to do.
　It seems totally unfair that we should have to forgive when we're the ones who have been hurt. And that's the crux of forgiveness. It seems unfair because it is unfair. Otherwise what would there be to forgive? Forgiveness is about pardoning things that are essentially inexcusable. After all, if something can be excused, it doesn't need forgiving, does it?
　The saying “ Forgive and forget” may roll off the tongue, but it's as shallow as it is short. For one thing, it's downright impossible. For another, it misses the whole point of forgiveness. The things we most need to forgive in life are the things we can't forget. Rather than sweeping them under the carpet, we need to draw a line under them, deliberately choosing not to count them against the person who did them, and moving on.
　That's why, sometimes, the initial act of forgiveness may seem relatively easy, but dealing with the emotions that follow every time you see that person, or speak to them or just think about them, can be harder to deal with. True forgiveness is not a one off act, it's a constant emotional confrontation.
　And the longer you wait to forgive someone, the harder it becomes. Time really doesn't heal, it just gives the bitterness and resentment longer to eat away at you from inside. If you wait for the " right time" you may never do it.
It's never too late If you have let a grudge fester for decades, remember it's never too late to heal wounds. So even if it's been years and you're forgotten how the bitterness started,you can still do something about it.
　A question you should ask yourself before you begin to tackle the art of forgiveness is this: How many of us are ever completely innocent in any given situation?
　Some years ago, my wife,Cornelia,and I bought a piece of cheap,flat packed,pine veneered furniture.For the first few months, it fooled everyone it was smart, functional and impressive, and we felt it fitted our home perfectly. But as time rolled by, the veneer slowly began to peel at the edges. It didn't create the same impression any more, but at least it was being honest! The fact is that,like it or not,behind our smart veneer, we're all just chipboard.So before we become other people's judge and jury,we'd be wise to take a long,hard look at ourselves in the mirror.And the more we see ourselves,warts and all,the more we'll want to and be able to forgive others for their flaws,and the more we forgive,the more we'll know true contentment.
Would you rather be right or happy? Forgiving others can get a satisfying reaction. I've found that saying sorry to my kids has not only healed broken relationships but has helped defuse the situation, making it easier for my kids to ask for forgiveness themselves. So if you think you're right and can't find it in yourself to forgive, ask youself this question: would you rather be right or happy?
　One of the hardest things about forgiveness is making that first move especially when you haven't spoken to the person who hurt you for a while. But remember they'll probably be happy to hear from you. They might even be impressed that you've done what they've wanted to do for years. But keep in mind you're doing this for you just as much as them, so don't be upset if they don't react as you hoped.
　Of course, some people don't believe they've done anything wrong, or don't care, so telling them you forgive them would only frustrate them and you. But that doesn't mean you can't find forgiveness in your heart. In fact, that's what true forgiveness is letting go of your anger and hurt, becoming at peace with what happened and moving on.

opened

I've opened the curtain of my east window here above the computer, and I sit now in a holy theater before a sky-blue stage. A little cloud above the neighbor's trees resembles Jimmy Durante's nose for a while,commercial Christmas Decorations then becomes amorphous as it slips on north. Other clouds follow, big and little and tiny on their march toward whereness. Wisps of them lead or droop because there must always be leading and drooping.
The trees seem to laugh at the clouds while yet reaching for them with swaying branches. Trees must think that they are real, rooted, somebody, and that perhaps the clouds are only tickled water which sometimes blocks their sun. But trees are clouds, too, of green leaves—clouds that only move a little. Trees grow and change and dissipate like their airborne cousins.
And what am I but a cloud of thoughts and feelings and aspirations? Don't I put out tentative mists here and there? Don't I occasionally appear to other people as a ridiculous shape of thoughts without my intending to? Don't I drift toward the north when I feel the breezes of love and the warmth of compassion?
If clouds are beings, and beings are clouds, are we not all well advised to drift, to feel the wind tucking us in here and plucking us out there? Are we such rock-hard bodily lumps as we imagine?

Words From a Father

In the doorway of my home, I looked closely at the face of my 23-year-old son, Daniel, his backpack by his side.yard Air Dancer We were saying good-bye. In a few hours he would be flying to France. He would be staying there for at least a year to learn another language and experience life in a different country.
It was a transitional time in Daniel‘s life, a passage, a step from college into the adult world. I wanted to leave him some words that would have some meaning, some significance beyond the moment.
But nothing came from my lips. No sound broke the stillness of my beachside home. Outside, I could hear the shrill cries of sea gulls as they circled the ever changing surf on Long Island. Inside, I stood frozen and quiet, looking into the searching eyes of my son.
What made it more difficult was that I knew this was not the first time I had let such a moment pass. When Daniel was five, I took him to the school-bus stop on his first day of kindergarten. I felt the tension in his hand holding mine as the bus turned the corner. I saw colour flush his cheeks as the bus pulled up. He looked at me-as he did now.
What is it going to be like, Dad? Can I do it? Will I be okay? And then he walked up the steps of the bus and disappeared inside. And the bus drove away. And I had said nothing.
A decade or so later, a similar scene played itself out. With his mother, I drove him to William and Mary College in Virginia. His first night, he went out with his new schoolmates, and when he met us the next morning, he was sick. He was coming down with mononucleosis, but we could not know that then. We thought he had a hangover.
In his room, Dan lay stretched out on his bed as I started to leave for the trip home. I tried to think of something to say to give him courage and confidence as he started this new phase of life.
Again, words failed me. I mumbled something like, "Hope you feel better Dan." And I left.
Now, as I stood before him, I thought of those lost opportunities. How many times have we all let such moments pass? A boy graduates from school, a daughter gets married. We go through the motions of the ceremony, but we don‘t seek out our children and find a quiet moment to tell them what they have meant to us. Or what they might expect to face in the years ahead.
How fast the years had passed. Daniel was born in New Orleans, LA., in 1962, slow to walk and talk, and small of stature. He was the tiniest in his class, but he developed a warm, outgoing nature and was popular with his peers. He was coordinated and 6)agile, and he became adept in sports.
Baseball gave him his earliest challenge. He was an outstanding pitcher in Little League, and eventually, as a senior in high school, made the varsity, winning half the team‘s games with a record of five wins and two losses. At graduation, the coach named Daniel the team‘s most valuable player.
His finest hour, though, came at a school science fair. He entered an exhibit showing how the circulatory system works. It was primitive and crude, especially compared to the fancy, computerized, blinking-light models entered by other students. My wife, Sara, felt embarrassed for him.
It turned out that the other kids had not done their own work-their parents had made their exhibits. As the judges went on their rounds, they found that these other kids couldn‘t answer their questions. Daniel answered every one. When the judges awarded the Albert Einstein Plaque for the best exhibit, they gave it to him.
By the time Daniel left for college he stood six feet tall and weighed 170 pounds. He was muscular and in superb condition, but he never pitched another inning, having given up baseball for English literature. I was sorry that he would not develop his athletic talent, but proud that he had made such a mature decision.
One day I told Daniel that the great failing in my life had been that I didn‘t take a year or two off to travel when I finished college. This is the best way, to my way of thinking, to broaden oneself and develop a larger perspective on life. Once I had married and begun working, I found that the dream of living in another culture had vanished.
Daniel thought about this. His friends said that he would be insane to put his career on hold. But he decided it wasn‘t so crazy. After graduation, he worked as a waiter at college, a bike messenger and a house painter. With the money he earned, he had enough to go to Paris.
The night before he was to leave, I tossed in bed. I was trying to figure out something to say. Nothing came to mind. Maybe, I thought, it wasn‘t necessary to say anything.
What does it matter in the course of a life-time if a father never tells a son what he really thinks of him? But as I stood before Daniel, I knew that it does matter. My father and I loved each other. Yet, I always regretted never hearing him put his feelings into words and never having the memory of that moment. Now, I could feel my palms sweat and my throat tighten. Why is it so hard to tell a son something from the heart? My mouth turned dry, and I knew I would be able to get out only a few words clearly.

apple 2

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything -- all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure -- these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7∶30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.
This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma -- which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

The Most Beautiful Heart

One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered, and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. sale Sumo Wrestling Suits There was not a flaw in it.
　　Suddenly, an old man appeared and said, "Why, your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine!"
　　The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right, and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.
　　The young man laughed. "Comparing your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars." 　　"Yes," said the old man, "Yours looks perfect but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart that fits into the empty place in my heart.
　　"But because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. "Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his or her heart to me. These are the empty gouges — giving love is taking a chance.
　　"Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for those people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I've been waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"
　　The young man walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man.
　　The old man placed it in his heart, then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his.

secret

A young man asked Socrates the secret of Success. Socrates told the young man to meet him near the river the next morning.
　　They met. sale Inflatable Tent Socrates asked the young man to walk with him towards the river.
　　When the water got up to their necks, Socrates took the young man by surprise and ducked him into the water.
　　The man struggled to get out but Socrates was strong and kept him there until he started turning blue. The young man struggled hard and finally managed to get out and the first thing he did was to gasp and take deep breath.
　　Socrates asked, “What you wanted the most when you were there?” The man replied, “Air.”
　　Socrates said, “that’s the most secret to success. When you want success as badly as you wanted air, you will get it. There is no other secret.”

The flame of love

Suppose you have everything; cheap Inflatable Castle a good job, good health, good reputation, good relationships and lot of money to spend. But still there is something missing from your life. Guess what? The LOVE. It is not something which you should ignore. Life without love is just like body without soul.
Love gives meaning to life as without love life is meaningless. Lucky is the person who gets love and keeps the flames of love burning for ever. It is not a matter of days or months. Love is for life and life is for love.
Short term love encounters are not helpful at all. Be sincere with your body and soul. Indulge in serious life long loving relationship and live a healthy, happy and joyful life.
It is easy to fell in love but difficult to keep the flames of love burning. Before indulging in serious long term love relationships be sure that the person you love is also sincere with you. A selfish person can make your life miserable. If this is the case with you then try to get rid of that person as soon as possible.
Most people do not give importance to their love life as they give importance to their professional life. In most cases, people sacrifice their love life at the cost of their profession. This is a bad choice which ruins the whole life. A sensible balance between the two is necessary in order to enjoy life in its entirety. Do not deprive yourself of the love you need.
People part their ways after living together for years and years. Though this looks strange but is the obvious result of ignoring the genuine complaints and grievances of the other. Sometimes a sincere apology, gentle touch, or a friendly kiss is enough to put your love life on track. However, when deep differences develop between the two then professional consultation is necessary. Do everything to bring back love to your life, if it is lost.
In order to make the journey of life more exciting and enjoyable, you need a loving and caring person with whom you can share your values, dreams, fantasies, joys and jokes. In difficult times of anxiety, sorrow, distress or loss of near and dear ones this person should stand firm besides you and console you in every possible manner.
Love your life and love the person who is in your life. Keep the flames of love burning to live a great, great love life.

first worldwide

The first worldwide comparison of depression with four other non-fatal chronic diseases shows that feeling seriously blue is the most disabling of all, according to a study released Friday. The results of a quality-of-life index called the "global mean health score" showed that depression was,manufacturer Air Dancer by a significant margin, the most difficult to bear.
　　"Our findings are consistent with earlier studies that have shown a high degree of association between depression and disability," commented lead author Saba Moussavi of the WHO and colleagues.
　　They also note that even if the prevalence of depression is similar to the four other chronic physical diseases, the lifetime risk -- the number of people who cycle in and out of depression -- is five to 10 times greater.

Sena

　Sena Athugala was unusually busy in his grocery shop and restaurant, The Blue Elephant in Braddon,china Inflatable Obstacle Canberra. It was two days after last year’s tsunami struck several Asian and African countries, including his motherland, Sri Lanka, with devastating effect. In addition to answering queries from customers concerned about his family back in Sri Lanka, Sena was taking in clothes and other items donated by generous locals.
　　There were no sign boards to indicate he was collecting aid for the tsunami survivors, but in a spontaneous gesture repeated in many suburbs, people were giving whatever they could to anyone who had connections to a tsunami-hit country. During a break in the flow of customers, Sena noticed a woman standing to one side. Dressed in a dark coat with a brooch of two small koalas pinned to the lapel, she appeared to be in her sixties. The moment he made eye contact the woman darted forward and thrust an envelope at Sena, telling him its contents should be sent to the victims in Sri Lanka. She seemed agitated and was about to leave the shop when Sena opened the envelope. Seeing a bundle of $50 notes inside, he asked her to wait until he wrote her a receipt. The woman hesitated so Sena offered her a cold drink and showed her to a seat in the restaurant while he counted the money—all $1500 of it!
　　When Sena told the woman he was hesitant to take her money, she broke down and spoke about her own children and grandchildren. She said she was horrified and saddened to see the devastation the tsunami caused among the people of Sri Lanka. “Why are you giving it to me?” Sena asked. “Why not give it to some reputable organisation?” “You are from Sri Lanka,” she said. “I trust you and know you will use it to help your people. You have a good heart, I know.” Then she explained how, several months earlier, she was walking past and was drawn into the shop by an aroma. “You told me it came from cooking Sri Lankan food and invited me to have lunch,” she said. “I did not have enough money on me to pay for a meal—and amid my protests—you served me lunch in a box to be taken away. You did not take any money. That is why I know you have a good heart.” The woman then removed her coat to also send to the tsunami victims. She also gave Sena a matchbox full of trinkets.
　　Sena could not recall the particular incident. However, he knew full well the age-old custom he had picked up from his parents. In most villages in Sri Lanka, it was the practice to cook a little bit of extra food when preparing a meal. It ensured that should a wayfaring stranger drop by during meal times he or she would not go away hungry.
　　Sena’s hospitable gesture could ensure that a family who lost everything in Sri Lanka may gain a roof over its head. He plans to use the money given to him by the woman to build a house for a family made destitute by the tsunami’s surging waves. “I am so touched by her gesture that I would like to go there and oversee the work to make sure we can do something very special,” he says.

On beauty

And a poet said, Speak to us of Beauty.
And he answered: cheap Inflatable Toys
Where shall you seek beauty, and shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.”
And the passionate say, “Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.”
The tired and the weary say, “Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit. Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.”
But the restless say, “We have heard her shouting among the mountains.
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.”
At night the watchmen of the city say, “Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.” And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, “We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.”
In winter say the snow-bound, “She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hill.”
And in the summer heat the reapers say, “We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.”
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth.
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

The Five Images of Love

No one understands the nature of love; it is like a bird of heaven that sings a strange language. It lights down among us, wholesale Yard Inflatables coming from whence we know not, going we know not how or when, striking out wild notes of music that make even fatigued and heavy hearts to throb and give back a tone of courage.
The sorts and kinds of love are infinite in number, infinite as the days of the years of time. Each one of us is capable of many and various loves. We cannot love two creatures, not two dogs, with the same love. To each of those whom we love we offer a gem of different colour and value;—to the unknown Master of the heavens, ah! who shall tell of what sort is the love we offer to Him? Yet in this love, too (which is natural worship), we discover the same vibrational atmosphere that invades the soul of all lovers.
I doubt we shall not get much nearer to the nature of love by mere talking. Intellectual statements are of little use. God does not make intellectual statements, He creates. We have to find our way about in the vast medley of created things that life spreads out around us, and pick up what bits of knowledge we can as we make our way along.
Let me choose five images that will give an idea of what the awaking of this new life means.
I. Shall we not say that the creature without love is like the lamp unlit? There it is, and no one needs it. But touch it with flame, and it trembles and glows and becomes the centre of the room where it stands. Everything that falls under its rays is new-gilt. So does the lover see all natural things quite new.
II. Or take the image of the withering plant that is dying of drought. The sun’s rays have parched it; the roots have searched and searched for moisture in a soil that grows every day harder and drier. The plant wilts and hangs its head; it is fainting and ready to die, when down comes the rain in a murmuring multitude of round scented drops. the purest thing alive, a distilled essence, necessary to life. Under that baptism the plant lifts itself up; it drinks and rejoices. In the night it renews its strength; in the morning the heat it has had from the sun, reinforced by the rain, bursts out into coloured flowers. So I have known a man battered by hard life and the excess of his own passions: I have seen love come to such a man and take him up and cleanse him and set him on his feet; and from him has burst forth a flood of colour and splendour—creative work that now lends its fiery stimulus to thousands.
III. Another image might be of the harp that stands by itself in golden aloofness. Then come the beautiful arms, the curving fingers that pluck at the strings, and the air is filled with melody; the harp begins to live, thrilling and rejoicing. down to its golden foot.
IV. Or picture the unlighted house, empty at fall of night. The windows are dark; the door shut; the clean wind goes about and about it, and cannot find an entrance. The dull heavy air is faint within; it longs to be reunited to the wind of the world outside. Then comes the woman with the key, and in she steps; the windows are opened, the imprisoned air rushes out, the wind enters; the lamps and the fire are lit; so that light fills windows and doors. The tables are set, there is the sound of footsteps; and more footsteps. The house glows and lives.
One could please oneself by many more images; such as the white garment of feathers that the young swans put on in the spring: the young flowers opening out their cups to the Sun that fills them with his golden wine. All life is full of such images, because nature has ruled that love, energy, beauty, and joy are one.
V. A last image only I would like to add because of the pleasure it has given me. On the north door of the Cathedral of Chartres there is a sculptured design, some six hundred years old, of God creating the birds. God is charming, quite young, not more than thirty-eight or so; He has a most sweet expression. Behind Him a little stands the Son, about seventeen, tall as He and very like Him, but beardless. He has the same sweetness of look, as though upon each countenance an ineffable smile were just dawning. The Father is holding something that time has broken in His hand; most likely it is a bird. What a fortunate moment! What a fortunate thought! No wonder they both look pleased. Never have the birds disappointed Him as have we, His ruder children. Every spring since then these small creatures praise Him, head turned skywards, for the joy of the beloved, for the secret nest.
Imagining and pondering, one is apt to grow a little wise; now perhaps we may say that love is a radiant atmosphere of the soul, a celestial energy, a fluid force.
This force, this energy is set running in the wide kingdom that is within us by some Spirit touch. A soft tumult takes place in the life within; waves on waves of joy, desire, grief, ecstasy begin to run, making a trembling music that often causes the whole body to shake and tremble too.

Just for today

Just for today I will try to live through this day only and not tackle my whole life problem at once. I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I had to keep it up for a lifetime.
Just for today I will be happy. cheap Inflatable Santa Claus This assumes to be true what Abraham Lincoln said, that “Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be.”
Just for today I will adjust myself to what is, and not try to adjust everything to my own desires. I will take my “luck” as it comes.
Just for today I will try to strengthen my mind. I will study. I will learn something useful. I will not be a mental loafer. I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.
Just for today I will exercise my soul in three ways. I will do somebody a good turn and not get found out: If anybody knows of it, it will not count. I will do at least two things I don’t want to do—just for exercise. I will not show anyone that my feelings are hurt: they may be hurt, but today I will not show it.
Just for today I will be agreeable. I will look as well as I can, dress becomingly, talk low, act courteously, criticize not one bit, and try not to improve or regulate anybody but myself.
Just for today I will have a program, I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it. I will save myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.
Just for today I will have a quiet half hour all by myself and relax. During this half hour, sometime, I will try to get a better perspective of my life.
Just for today I will be unafraid. Especially I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful, and to believe that as I give to the world, so the world will give to me.

The Peace Seeker

From the poetry collection Silent Tears
Once upon a time, cheap Christmas Decorations
A true peace lover wandered around the many worlds in search
of eternal happiness.
She walked over the face of the earth, the suns, the moons and
the clouds.
At last she found:
That it was all the while hidden in her very heart.
Then she sat down.
And was about to enjoy the new found Bliss.
But suddenly she looked down:
And saw countless beings were still grovelling in darkness,
for they’re searching for happiness without.
Just like her before erring over millions of ages.
Her tears were then rolling down…
One drop, two drops … and many more…
Each drop became a shining jewel and soon the firmament was
studded with glittering tears which are the stars today,
They are too shy in the day and too restless in the night
to go to sleep.
For all peace seekers.
The stars are there to light the Way
And to remind them of the compassion of a holy Sage.

More Than One Way to the Square

We were standing at the top of a church tower. My father had brought me to this spot in a small Italian town not far from our home in Rome. cheap Air Dancer I wondered why.
“Look down, Elsa,” Father said. I gathered all my courage and looked down. I saw the square in the center of the village. And I saw the crisscross1 of twisting, turning streets leading to the square.
“See, my dear,” Father said gently. “There is more than one way to the square. Life is like that. If you can't get to the place where you want to go by one road, try another.”
Now I understood why I was there. Earlier that day I had begged my mother to do something about the awful lunches that were served at school. But she refused because she could not believe the lunches were as bad as I said.
When I turned to Father for help, he would not interfere. Instead, he brought me to this high tower to give me a lesson. By the time we reached home, I had a plan.
At school the next day, I secretly poured my luncheon soup into a bottle and brought it home. Then I talked the cook into serving it to Mother at dinner. The plan worked perfectly. She swallowed2 one spoonful3 and sputtered4, “The cook must have gone mad!” Quickly I told what I had done, and Mother stated firmly that she would take up the matter of lunches at school the next day!
In the years that followed I often remembered the lesson Father taught me. I knew where I wanted to go in life. I wanted to be a fashion designer. And on the way to my first small success I found the road blocked. What could I do? Accept the roadblock5 and fail？Or use imagination and wits to find another road to my goal？
I had come to Paris, the center of the world of fashion, with my sketches6. But none of the famous fashion designers seemed interested in buying them. Then one day I met a friend who was wearing a very beautiful sweater. It was plain in color, but it had a lovely and unusual stitch7.
“Did you knit8 that sweater?” I asked her.
“No,” she answered. “It was done by a woman here in Paris.”
“What an interesting stitch!” I continued.
My friend had an explanation. “The woman her name is Mrs. Vidian—told me she learned the stitch in Armenia, her native country.”
Suddenly I pictured a daring design knitted into such a sweater. Then an even more daring idea came to me. Why not open my own house of fashion? Why not design, make and sell clothes from the house of Schiaparelli9! I would do it, and I would begin with a sweater.
I drew a bold black and white butterfly pattern and took it to Mrs. Vidian. She knitted it into a sweater. The result, I thought, was wonderful. Then came the test. I wore the sweater to a luncheon which people in the fashion business would attend. To my great pleasure, the sweater was noticed. In fact, the representative of a large New York store wanted 40 sweaters to be ready in two weeks. I accepted the order and walked out on a cloud of happiness.
My cloud disappeared suddenly, however, when I stood in front of Mrs. Vidian. “But it took me almost a week to knit that one sweater,” she said. “Forty sweaters in two weeks? It is not possible!”
I was crushed to be so close to success and then to be blocked! Sadly I walked away. All at once I stopped short. There must be another way. This stitch did take special skill. But surely there must be other Armenian women in Paris who knew how to do it.
I went back to Mrs. Vidian and explained my plan. She really didn't think it would work, but she agreed to help.
We were like detectives10, Mrs. Vidian and I. We put ourselves on the trail11 of any Armenians who lived in Paris. One friend led us to another. At last we tracked down 20 women, each of whom could knit the special stitch. Two weeks later the sweaters were finished. And the first shipment from the new house of Schiaparelli was on its way to the United States!
From that day a steady stream of clothes and perfumes12 flowed from the house of Schiaparelli. I found the world of fashion gay13 and exciting, full of challenge and adventure. I shall never forget one showing which was really a challenge. Once again Father's advice helped me. I was busy getting ready to show my winter fashions. Then just 13 days before the presentation the sewing girls were called out on strike. I found myself left with one tailor and woman who was in charge of the sewing room! I was as gloomy14 as my models and salesgirls. “We'll never make it,”one of them cried.
Here, I thought, is the test of all tests for Father's advice. Where is the way out this time? I wondered and worried. I was certain we would have to call off the presentation or else show the clothes unfinished. Then it dawned on15 me. Why not show the clothes unfinished?
We worked hurriedly. And, exactly 13 days later, right on time, the Schiaparelli showing took place.
What a showing it was! Some coats had no sleeves; others had only one. Many of our clothes were still in an early stage. They were only patterns made of heavy cotton cloth. But on these we pinned sketches and pieces of material. In this way we were able to show that what colors and textures the clothes would have when they were finished.

Everybody Has A Dream

Some years ago I took on an assignment in a southern county to work with people on public welfare. What I wanted to do was show that everybody has the capacity to be self-sufficient and all we have to do is to activate them. I asked the county to pick a group of people who were on public welfare, people from different racial groups and different giant Inflatable Tent family constellations. I would then see them as a group for three hours every Friday. I also asked for a little petty cash to work with, as I needed it.
The first thing I said after I shook hands with everybody was, "I would like to know what you dreams are." Everyone looked at me as if I were kind of wacky.
"Dreams? We don't have dreams."
I said. "Well, when you were a kid what happened? Wasn't there something you wanted to do?"
One woman said to me, "I don't know what you can do with dreams. The rats are eating up my kids."
"Oh," I said. "That's terrible. No, of course, you are very much involved with the rats and your kids. How can that be helped?"
"Well, I cold use a new screen door because there are holes in my screen door."
I asked, "Is there anybody around here who knows how to fix a screen door?"
There was a man in the group, and he said, "A long time ago I used to do things like that but now I have a terribly bad back, but I'll try."
I told him I had some money if he would go to the store and buy some screening and go and fix the lady's screen door. "Do you think you can do that?"
"Yes, I'll try."
The next week, when the group was seated, I said to the woman, "Well, is your screen door fixed?"
"Oh, yes," she said.
"Then we can start dreaming, can't we?" She sort of smiled at me.
I said to the man who did the work, "How do you feel?"
He said, "Well, you know, it's a very funny thing. I'm beginning to feel a lot better."
That helped the group to begin to dream. These seemingly small successes allowed the group to see that dreams were not insane. These small steps began to get people to see and feel that something really could happen.
I began to ask other people about their dreams. One woman shared that she always wanted to be a secretary. I said, "Well, what stands in your way?"
She said, "I have six kids, and I don't have anyone to take care of them while I'm away."
"Let's find out," I said. "Is there anybody in this group who would take care of six kids for a day or two a week while this woman gets some training here at the community college?"
One woman said, "I got kids, too, but I could do that."
"Let's do it," I said. So a plan was created and the woman went to school.

Relish Moment

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. commercial Castle Out the windows, we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering --waiting, waiting, waiting for the station. "When we reach the station, that will be it! "we cry. "When I'm 18. ""When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz! ""When I put the last kid through college. ""When I have paid off the mortgage!""When I get a promotion.""When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after! "

Life Desired

That must be the story of innumerable couples, and the pattern of life of life it offers has a homely grace. It reminds you of a placid rivulet,giant Inflatable Jumping Castle meandering smoothly through green pastures and shaded by pleasant trees, till at last it falls into the vastly sea; but the sea is so calm, so silent, so indifferent, that you are troubled suddenly by a vague uneasiness. Perhaps it is only by a kink in my nature, strong in me even in those days, that I felt in such an existence, the share of the great majority, something amiss. I recognized its social value. I saw its ordered happiness, but a fever in my blood asked for a wilder course. There seemed to me something alarming in such easy delights. In my heart was desire to live more dangerously. I was not unprepared for jagged rocks and treacherous, shoals it I could only have change-change and the excitement of unforeseen.

a smile to save a life

"I was sure that I was to be killed. I became terribly nervous. I fumbled[1] in my pockets to see if there were any cigarettes, which had escaped cheap Inflatable Human Spheres their search. I found one and because of my shaking hands, I could barely get it to my lips. But I had no matches, they had taken those. "I looked through the bars at my jailer. He did not make eye contact with me. I called out to him 'Have you got a light?' He looked at me, shrugged [3]and came over to light my cigarette. "As he came close and lit the match, his eyes inadvertently locked with mine. At that moment, I smiled. I don't know why I did that. Perhaps it was nervousness, perhaps it was because, when you get very close, one to another, it is very hard not to smile. In any case, I smiled. In that instant, it was as though a spark jumped across the gap between our two hearts, our two human souls. I know he didn't want to, but my smile leaped through the bars and generated a smile on his lips, too. He lit my cigarette but stayed near, looking at me directly in the eyes and continuing to smile.
"I kept smiling at him, now aware of him as a person and not just a jailer. And his looking at me seemed to have a new dimension[4] too. 'Do you have kids?' he asked. " 'Yes, here, here.' I took out my wallet and nervously fumbled for the pictures of my family. He, too, took out the pictures of his family and began to talk about his plans and hopes for them. My eyes filled with tears. I said that I feared that I'd never see my family again, never have the chance to see them grow up. Tears came to his eyes, too. "Suddenly, without another word, he unlocked my cell and silently led me out. Out of the jail, quietly and by back routes, out of the town. There, at the edge of town, he released me. And without another word, he turned back toward the town.
"My life was saved by a smile." Yes, the smile―the unaffected, unplanned, natural connection between people.. I really believe that if that part of you and that part of me could recognize each other, we wouldn't be enemies. We couldn't have hate or envy or fear.

The Most Unforgettable Person I Ever Know

In my life I have net many people who are really worth recalling. But perhaps
the most unforgettable person I’ve ever known is one of my Chinese language
teachers.
To many students, yard Inflatable Snowman‘teacher” is just a word, I think. For me, however, it means
much more. That’s because I am lucky to have an excellent teacher. He made
me want to listen to everything he said in class.
What frequently bring back memories of my school teaching is his special
qualities. First of all, I was attracted by his lively wit. He is not as serious as most
teachers are, and thinks of his students as friends. Because of his personality, all
of his students are close to him. I remember that we students always anticipated
his class with great eagerness because his lectures were humorously delivered,
never failing to provoke chuckles or loud laughers. Second, he gave us the
greatest gift a teacher can offer—an awakening of a passion for learning. He not
only led us t to an appreciation of the beauty and perfection of Chinese and
literature, but also aroused our great interest in exploring something deeper in
this field. Finally, I was deeply impressed by the respect he showed for us. As he
treated us like friends rather than students, we all liked to visit his home for social
activities as well as for academic advice.

love

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well 仰望群星的时分，我一清二楚，
That, kid Air Dancer for all they care, I can go to hell, 尽管它们关怀备至，我亦有可能赴地府，
But on earth indifference is the least 可是尘世间我们丝毫不必畏惧
We have to dread from man or beast. 人类或禽兽的那份冷漠。
How should we like it were stars to burn 倘若群星燃烧着关怀我们的激情，
With a passion for us we could not return? 我们却无法回报，我们作何感想？
If equal affection cannot be, 倘若无法产生同样的感情，
Let the more loving one be me. 让我成为更有爱心的人。
Admirer as I think I am 尽管我自视为群星的崇拜者，
Of stars that do not give a damn, 它们满不在乎，
I cannot, now I see them ,say 现在我看群星，我却难以启齿，
I missed one terribly all day. 说我成天思念一颗星星。
Were all stars to disappear or die 倘若所有的星星消失或者消亡，
I should learn to look at an empty sky 我应该学会仰望空荡的天空，
And feel its total dark sublime, 同时感受天空一片漆黑的崇高，
Though this might take me a little time. 虽然这样可能要花费一点时间。

A Rare Fossil Record

The preservation of embryos and juveniles is a rate occurrence in the fossil record. The tiny, delicate skeletons are usually scattered by scavengers or destroyed by weathering before they can be fossilized. Ichthyosaurs had a higher chance of being preserved than did terrestrial creatures because, as marine animals, they tended to live in environments less subject to erosion. Still, their fossilization required a suite of factors:sale Inflatable Obstacle a slow rate of decay of soft tissues, little scavenging by other animals, a lack of swift currents and waves to jumble and carry away small bones, and fairly rapid burial. Given these factors, some areas have become a treasury of well-preserved ichthyosaur fossils.
The deposits at Holzmaden, Germany, present an interesting case for analysis. The ichthyosaur remains are found in black, bituminous marine shales deposited about 190 million years ago. Over the years, thousands of specimens of marine reptiles, fish and invertebrates have been recovered from these rocks. The quality of preservation is outstanding, but what is even more impressive is the number of ichthyosaur fossils containing preserved embryos. Ichthyosaurs with embryos have been reported from 6 different levels of the shale in a small area around Holzmaden, suggesting that a specific site was used by large numbers of ichthyosaurs repeatedly over time. The embryos are quite advanced in their physical development; their paddles, for example, are already well formed. One specimen is even preserved in the birth canal. In addition, the shale contains the remains of many newborns that are between 20 and 30 inches long.
Why are there so many pregnant females and young at Holzmaden when they are so rare elsewhere? The quality of preservation is almost unmatched and quarry operations have been carried out carefully with an awareness of the value of the fossils. But these factors do not account for the interesting question of how there came to be such a concentration of pregnant ichthyosaurs in a particular place very close to their time of giving birth.

Rich Man

Grandfather was a philosopher,custom airblown christmas and like a lot of philosophers, I guess, he was a mild-mannered man who was always ready to admit that there are two sides to every question. So when people got to arguing with him, or around him, about things that they got heated up and illogical about, like politics and religion,1 he would tell this story that Doc Eaton told him one day up on the Hill.
It happened a long time ago, when the town wasn't all steel and concrete and automobiles; when you could still hear the whir of a lawn mower without taking a streetcar out to the suburbs, and still see a horse lazily switching at the flies on his flanks under almost any sycamore tree.2 The Forest City had a lot of trees in those days.
And it had a lot of people that didn't always see eye to eye,3 like a lot of other cities. And it had a rich man, like almost every other town. And this rich man was a pillar in the Baptist Church;4 and people didn't see eye to eye about him, either.
There were those—and Grandfather's eyes twinkled when he said it—that claimed the rich man was an old hypocrite5, that he was ruthless in his business dealings, that he was so tightfisted he wouldn't spend a nickel to see an earthquake,6 that when he went to church on Sunday morning he was almost as important as God to a lot of people.
Then there was the other school of thought7. It asserted that just because a man had made money under conditions as they existed was no reason to call him a lot of hard names.8 In fact, they asserted stoutly, the people that called him names were merely envious of his success9. They maintained he went to church not because he was a sanctimonious old fraud10 but because he was at heart, and for all his money, a simple, deeply religious man.
It was while these two groups were hot at it that the rich man gave a party. Well, it wasn't exactly a party, Grandfather would explain. It was more like a shower for the pastor of the church.11 One group of parishioners saw in their invitation nothing but a kindly, neighborly gesture. The other just said it showed how miserly the old buzzard was12—getting other people to do what he could have done a thousand times over without feeling it a mite.13
Grandfather said even then he had the sneaking feeling that the rich man wasn't so insulated and isolated by his money14 that he didn't know what people were saying about him, and that was the real reason he gave the party.
But both sides of the question went to the party. A lot of them were pretty curious about the inside of a rich man's home.
They brought offerings for the pastor, as they were requested. Some people brought apples, and others brought sides of bacon and onions and other homey old-fashioned things like that15. But nobody was really much interested in what the other guests brought. They were all waiting for one thing. What would the rich man bring out? Even Doc Eaton, the preacher, according to Grandfather, couldn't help wondering about what was coming. You could feel the undercurrent of suspense.
And then the rich man16 brought out his offering.
It was a bushel of potatoes.17 They were nice potatoes, extra large and scrubbed white and clean. But still and all, they were only a bushel of potatoes that anybody could buy in the Old Market for a lot less than a dollar.
Well, sir, Grandfather chuckled, you could practically see what people were thinking. They were the people who were saying to themselves and to everybody else, "Well, what did I tell you??And then there were those who made it perfectly plain that they thought it was mighty tactful of their host not to make an ostentatious parade of his money18 before a lot of neighbors and friends.
But the host went around as if he didn't notice anything, though Grandfather always insisted that he detected a little twinkle in the rich man's eyes as he shook hands with all his fellow parishioners and wished them good night.
The preacher toted19 his gifts into his house, and just because they had been the center of interest, so to speak, he picked one of the big white potatoes out of the basket. Then he noticed that one end of the potato had been opened. He investigated, and discovered that a silver dollar had been neatly inserted through the opening. He examined every potato in that bushel basket, and there was a silver dollar in every single one of them.
At this point Grandfather usually sat back and plucked benignly at his white beard20 and smiled. Then he'd turn philosopher and say:
"It takes an almighty pile of gall21 for a man to sit up and say what is going on in another man's mind, don't22 it? I mean one way or another. When Doc Eaton told me that story he didn't bother to point out any moral. By the way, he don't do any preaching any more. He's been a congressman from New Jersey for years and years. But I guess the story has a moral, all right. Always sort of tickled23 me, like it must have tickled Doc's rich parishioner. "

The Twilight Zone

This applicant shows that her interest in public interest law flows naturally from her volunteer activities and life experiences. When you finish this essay, do you have a sense of unity and completion? She tied her conclusion both to the highlights of the body and her lead.
The last thing I remember is falling asleep during a late night rerun of the Twilight Zone. So when it happened, it was especially eerie,commercial Inflatable Arch like I had stepped into a lost episode, but Rod Serling was nowhere in sight; for moment, neither was anybody else. At 4:31 AM a merciless shove pushed me off my bed. I crawled on the floor, trying to escape the cruel, uncontrollable shaking, but it followed me. It followed me down the stairs and underneath the dining room table where my family joined me. Little did I realize that before the morning sun rose again, I would see everything differently.
My world changed. The 6.7 earthquake which crippled the Northridge area on January 17, 1994 rattled and ripped apart the fibers of security in our neighborhood. Our home was ruined; smashed glass, crumbled walls, and the lack of electricity, gas, and water made it uninhabitable. Without basic utilities, we slept and "lived" in our car for nine days while guarding our home from looters.
The damage was everywhere. A personal landmark, the Granada Hills Kaiser Permanente Medical Center, collapsed. The site where I had volunteered as a teen advisor — lobbying for and improving the quality of the teen health clinic while working one- on-one with underprivileged, problem teenagers — no longer existed. Only an empty lot and the memory of a valuable and productive medical and psychological outreach program for troubled youth remained.
As much as Northridge and its surrounding regions changed externally, so did the lives of the victims internally. Following this traumatic experience, I developed a keen awareness of the fragility of life and a newly restored appreciating for the simplest of my old comforts. As vulnerable and edgy as I was with every aftershock that rolled through the area, I consoled myself with reminders of how we were spared.
With a profound sense of gratitude for our relative good fortune, within weeks of the initial quake I volunteered at the American Red Cross Earthquake Relief Center.
As my family and I rebuilt our home and our lives, I translated for Iranian earthquake victims and performed various clerical tasks. Yet, my most valuable contribution to the earthquake relief team stemmed from the moral support I was "qualified" to provide. With my earthquake experience, I was able to comfort the teary-eyed victims who approached us for help. I gave them the hope and understanding they sought from a primarily out-of-state staff. I benefited too: My work for the Red Cross aroused my curiosity in public interest law.
I had the opportunity to explore this new interest in the summer when I interned in Washington D.C. for Congressman Howard P. ("Buck") Smith of California. That summer I was responsible for attending meetings and informing the Congressman's staff of the issues discussed. One of the issues I followed dealt with a proposed guideline to prohibit religious expression in the workplace due to its allegedly offensive nature. Defining such acts as wearing a Star of David or praying silently before a meal as "religious harassment," the bill attempted to equate these acts with verbal or sexual harassment.
Still the most fulfilling experience of my internship was serving the Mr. Smith's constituents when they wrote, called, or visited our Washington office. Their concerns covered many issues, including city maintenance and the enforcement of FCC regulations on local radio stations; yet, most cries for help grew out of the January 17 disaster.
My experience in the earthquake proved to be useful in my internship. After all, I was working with Mr. Earthquake himself. As the only intern from Northridge, I was assigned to the Earthquake Project. I acted as a liaison between constituents and the Small Business Administration, Federal Emergency Management Agency, and other manufacturer Inflatable Advertising governmental agencies that handled quake reconstruction monies. Because of my experience, I was again able to empathize with victims in a way that neither the staff nor the other interns could. As a result of my work, I gained a more profound grasp of the legal process and how it was able to help Northridge residents with their post earthquake problems.

Never Too Old to Live Your Dream

The first day of school our professor introduced himself to our chemistry class and challenged us to get to know someone commercial Inflatable Castle we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.1
She said, "Hi, handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?"
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze.2
"Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?"3 I asked.
She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel."
"No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
"I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one !" she told me.
After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.4 We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized5 listening to this "time machine"6 as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the school year, Rose became a campus icon7 and easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students.8 She was living it up.9
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet and I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium.10 As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three-by-five cards11 on the floor. Frustrated and a bit embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, "I'm sorry I'm so jittery.12 I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me!13 I'll never get my speech back in order to let me just tell you what I know." As we laughed, she cleared her throat and began:
"We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy and achieving success.
"You have to laugh and find humor each and every day.
"You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and they don't even know it!
"There is a giant difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability.14 The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change.
"Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets."
She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose." She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.15
At year's end, Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.