Thursday, March 27, 2008

Positive Thinking

An oyster on the ocean floor opened wide its shell to let the water pass over it. As the water flushed through, its gills picked out food, sending it to its stomach.

Suddenly a large fish nearby stirred up a cloud of sand and silt with a flip of its tail. Sand! Oh, how the oyster disliked sand. It was so rough and made life so unpleasant and uncomfortable and was such a bother whenever any got inside its shell. Quickly the oyster slammed its shell shut, but it was too late. One hard gritty grain of sand had gotten in and lodged itself between his inner flesh and his shell.

My, how that piece of sand bothered the oyster! But almost immediately, its special glands for coating the in-side of his shell began working to coat the irritating grain of sand with a lovely smooth and shiny covering. Year after year the oyster added a few more layers of the coating onto the tiny grain of sand until at last, it had produced a beautiful lustrous pearl of great value.

Sometimes the problems we have are a bit like that grain of sand. They bother us and we wonder why we have the irritation and inconvenience they can be. But they can be blessings in disguise and make us achieve way beyond our own expectations. So take the rough pieces of sand in life and turns them into precious pearls.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Real Good Lesson of Life

Twenty years ago, responding to a call, when I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many cab-drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase.

The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."

"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice."

I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

"What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you." I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.

Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. People may not remember exactly what you did or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

*****
We can help make the world a little kinder and more compassionate.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Lets be Gracious Winners !!!

Arthur Ashe, the legendary Wimbledon player was dying of AIDS which he got due to infected blood he received during a heart surgery in 1983.From world over, he received letters from his fans, one of which conveyed: "Why does GOD have to select you for such a bad disease"?

To this Arthur Ashe replied: The world over 5 crore children start playing tennis, 50 lakh learn to play tennis, 5 lakh learn professional tennis, 50,000 come to the circuit, 5000 reach the grand slam, 50 reach Wimbledon, 4 to semi final, 2 to the finals, When I was holding a cup I never asked GOD "Why me?". And today in pain I should not be asking GOD "Why me?"

Life deals us good and bad cards and it is the way we play with both of them that determines whether we are true and gracious winners.

Lets be gracious winners....

Friday, March 21, 2008

Positive Thinking - The First Step Towards A Happy Life!!!

Jerry is the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!" He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant.

The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.

Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.

I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life.

"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life."

I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.

Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at gun point by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.

I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. “The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or I could choose to die. I chose to live."

"Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "...the paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'he's a dead man.'

I knew I needed to take action." " What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them, 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead.'"

Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.

Positive thinking the the first step towards a happy life.

Attitude is everything

If everyone applies just these, the whole world will live in happiness.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Inspirational Message - Think on This

Should you find it hard to get to sleep tonight;
- Just remember the homeless family who has no bed to lie in.

Should you find yourself stuck in traffic; don't despair.
- There are people in this world for whom driving is an unheard of privilege.

Should you have a bad day at work;
- Think of the man who has been out of work for the last three months.

Should you despair over a relationship gone bad;
- Think of the person who has never known what it's like to love and be loved in return.

Should you grieve the passing of another weekend;
- Think of the woman in dire straits, working twelve hours a day, seven days a week, for -15.00 to feed her family.

Should your car break down, leaving you miles away from assistance;
- Think of the paraplegic who would love the opportunity to take that walk.

Should you notice a new gray hair in the mirror;
- Think of the cancer patient in chemo who wishes she had hair to examine.

Should you find yourself at a loss and pondering what is life all about, asking "what is my purpose";
- Be thankful. There are those who didn't live long enough to get the opportunity.

Should you find yourself the victim of other people's bitterness, ignorance, smallness or insecurities;
- Remember, things could be worse. You could be them!!!

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

21 Important Advice

ONE. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.

TWO. Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older,
their conversational skills will be as important as any other.

THREE. Don't believe all you hear, spend all
you have or sleep all you want.

FOUR. When you say, 'I love you,' mean it.

FIVE. When you say, 'I'm sorry,' look the person in the eye.

SIX. Be engaged at least six months before you get married.

SEVEN. Believe in love at first sight.

EIGHT. Never laugh at anyone's dreams.
People who don't have dreams don't have much.

NINE. Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt
but it's the only way to live life completely.

TEN. In disagreements, fight fairly. No name calling.

ELEVEN. Don't judge people by their relatives.

TWELVE. Talk slowly but think quickly.

THIRTEEN! . When someone asks you a question you don't
want to answer, smile and ask, 'Why do you want to know?'

FOURTEEN. Remember that great love and
great achievements involve great risk.

FIFTEEN. Say 'bless you' when you hear someone sneeze.

SIXTEEN. When you lose, don't lose the lesson.

SEVENTEEN. Remember the three R's: Respect for self;
Respect for others; and Responsibility for all your actions.

EIGHTEEN. Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.

NINETEEN. When you realize you've made a mistake,
take immediate steps to correct it.

TWENTY. Smile when picking up the phone.
The caller will hear it in your voice.

TWENTY- ONE. Spend some time alone.

A true friend is someone who reaches for your
hand and touches your heart.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Never Alone !!!

I never liked being alone. It was too quiet, disconcerting. Ever since I was a little girl, I felt uncomfortable on my own. Even as an adult I found it distressing.

One day my son was off at a friend’s house, my daughter was away at her first year of college, and worst of all, my husband, Mike, was in the hospital. I was worried, and alone.

It was a minor surgical procedure. Laparoscopic. Nothing serious. He seemed to come through it fine and would be home the next day. One more day, I thought while getting ready for bed.

I wished my mother could be with me, but she lived hundreds of miles away, and Mike’s folks were away at their summer place. It was vacation time, and all my friends were out of town. I stared at the shadowy wall all night, unable to sleep, feeling the emptiness beside me.

First thing in the morning I took a taxi to the hospital. “How’s. . . everything . . . at . . . home?” Mike asked, his voice weak and labored. I took his hand; his skin was cold and clammy. His eyes were wide. Something was wrong.

A nurse with a cheery smile popped into the room. As she bent over Mike to take his vital signs, her smile disappeared. Before I knew it, the room was full of worried doctors and nurses. I was pushed back away from his bedside, against the cold cement block wall. “Pulse is rapid.” “Blood pressure elevated,” I heard the nurses say. What was going on?

Suddenly Mike was whisked out of the room. One of the nurses noticed me standing alone by the wall, my knees shaking. “Your husband is having trouble breathing. We’re taking him for an MRI. We think he has blood clots in his lungs.” She looked into my eyes. “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry! That’s not what I wanted to hear. What about “Everything’s going to be fine?” or “It’s nothing serious!” Blood clots in the lungs? That was serious!

I stepped into the hall and stared. What did I do? Where was the waiting room? I didn’t even know which way to go.

“You should go to the ICU waiting room,” a nurse said, noticing my confusion. “Second floor.”

I went there and sat with other quiet, anxious strangers. I spotted a phone on the wall, and I fished for quarters in my pocketbook. The first call was to Mike’s parents. They’d come home right away, but it would take a while. I called my mother, wishing she wasn’t so far away. Then I called my daughter, Kate. I didn’t want to worry her. But she’d always been a rock for me. It helped a little just to hear her voice. When I hung up, however, I choked back the tears.

I started to put away my pocketbook, but I had one last call to make. I dialed the number of my church. An answering machine picked up my call. Should I leave a message? What should I say? We hadn’t been attending long so I didn’t know many people. Finally I just said that Mike was in the hospital and had taken a turn for the worse. Maybe they could say some prayers.

It seemed like forever sitting and wondering. I put my head in my hands and tried to hide my tears. Suddenly, a woman walked in and approached me.

“Peggy?” she asked, kneeling beside me. “I’m Lisa. I’m a social worker here at the hospital, and I also go to your church. I got a call from the pastor that you were here, so I ducked over to see if you were okay.”

I looked up, surprised. She seemed so calm and gentle. Seemingly out of the blue, someone had found me and offered help. I wiped the tears from my cheek.

“If you need anything, ask someone to page me. Okay?” She put her hand on my shoulder and smiled comfortingly.

“Yes, thank you so much,” I sniffed. Before long, I was allowed in to see Mike. He was hooked up to monitors, IVs, and was wearing an oxygen mask, but I was so happy to be with him again. “You’re going to be fine,” I said, stroking his arm. I hoped. I looked to the doctor at his bedside.

“There are multiple clots in both lungs,” he said. “He’s on heparin and coumadin; blood thinners. The next few days are very important.”

I understood. Hopefully the blood clots would break up and dissolve. But if they didn’t, or if they traveled to the brain, the results could be fatal. Blood clots were serious business. The doctor left, and Mike dozed off. I sat by his side, aching for something I could do to help him. I put my head against his hand and cried. Then it was time to leave for the evening. I returned home alone.

But as I sat there in my quiet house, eating my dinner, the phone started ringing. First, a woman from our church called; she identified herself as Sue and offered to give me rides back and forth to the hospital. She even insisted on driving three hours each way to pick up Kate at college and bring her home for the weekend. Then someone else called and said she’d stop by with a meal. I didn’t even know these people! Finally, just before I went to bed, the phone rang again. It was my mom.

“I was trying to arrange to take a bus tomorrow,” she said. “But my friend said, ‘No way!’ She’s going to drive me there right now. We’ll get in about 2 am.”

“She’ll drive all that way in the middle of the night?” I asked, unbelieving.

“Yup. I’ll see you soon. Just hang in there.”

I did, thanks to the support of Lisa, Sue, and others I barely knew. Mike recovered, came home, and gradually grew stronger. And I was stronger, too. With good, caring people everywhere, ready to lend a hand, I am never really alone.