<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:29:37.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Message</title><subtitle type='html'>A collection of inspiring stories that touch my life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-7022117420759557108</id><published>2007-05-21T13:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T13:10:51.077-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting Conversation</title><content type='html'>An atheist Professor of philosophy speaks to his class on the problem science has with God, the Almighty. He asks one of his new Christian students to stand and.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: You are a Christian, aren't you, son?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Yes, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: So you believe in God?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Absolutely, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Is God good?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Is God all-powerful?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: My brother died of cancer even though he prayed to God to heal him. Most of us would attempt to help others who are ill. But God didn't. How is this God good then? Hmm?(Student is silent.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: You can't answer, can you? Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Is Satan good?&lt;br /&gt;Student: No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Where does Satan come from?&lt;br /&gt;Student: From God...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: That's right. Tell me son, is there evil in this world?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Evil is everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything. Correct?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: So who created evil?&lt;br /&gt;(Student does not answer.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things exist in the world, don't they?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Yes, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: So, who created them?&lt;br /&gt;(Student has no answer.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Science says you have 5 senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Tell me, son, have you ever seen God?&lt;br /&gt;Student: No, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Tell us if you have ever heard your God?&lt;br /&gt;Student: No, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Have you ever felt your God, tasted your God, smelt your God? Have you ever had any sensory perception of God for that matter?&lt;br /&gt;Student: No, sir. I'm afraid I haven't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Yet you still believe in Him?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: According to empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your GOD doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Nothing. I only have my faith.&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Yes. Faith. And that is the problem science has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: Professor, is there such a thing as heat?&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: And is there such a thing as cold?&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: No sir. There isn't.&lt;br /&gt;(The lecture theatre becomes very quiet with this turn of events.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: Sir, you can have lots of heat, even more heat, superheat, mega heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat. But we don't have anything called cold. We can hit 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold. Cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it. (There is pin-drop silence in the lecture theatre.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: What about darkness, Professor? Is there such a thing as darkness?&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Yes. What is night if there isn't darkness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light.... But if you have no light constantly, you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? In reality, darkness isn't. If it were you would be able to make darkness darker,wouldn't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: So what is the point you are making, young man?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Sir, my point is your philosophical premise is flawed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: Flawed? Can you explain how?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Sir, you are working on the premise of duality. You argue there is life and then there is death, a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life: just the absence of it. Now tell me, Professor, do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, yes, of course, I do.&lt;br /&gt;Student: Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?&lt;br /&gt;(The Professor shakes his head with a smile, beginning to realize where the argument is going.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you not a scientist but a preacher?&lt;br /&gt;(The class is in uproar.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the Professor's brain?&lt;br /&gt;(The class breaks out into laughter.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: Is there anyone here who has eve r heard the Professor's brain, felt it, touched or smeltit? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, sir. With all due respect, sir, how do we then trust your lectures, sir?&lt;br /&gt;(The room is silent. The Professor stares at the student, his face unfathomable.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor: I guess you'll have to take them on faith, son.&lt;br /&gt;Student: That is it sir. The link between man &amp; God is FAITH. That is all that keeps things moving &amp;amp; alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-7022117420759557108?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/7022117420759557108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=7022117420759557108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/7022117420759557108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/7022117420759557108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2007/05/interesting-conversation.html' title='Interesting Conversation'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-3738056168154828078</id><published>2007-05-21T12:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T13:00:38.834-04:00</updated><title type='text'>John 3:16</title><content type='html'>A little boy was selling newspapers on the corner, the people were in and out of the cold. The little boy was so cold that he wasn't trying to sell many papers. He walked up to a policeman and said, "Mister, you wouldn't happen to know where a poor boy could find a warm place to sleep tonight would you? You see, I sleep in a box up around the corner there and down the alley and it's awful cold in there for tonight. Sure would be nice to have a warm place to stay."&lt;br /&gt;The policeman looked down at the little boy and said, "You go down the street to that big white house and you knock on the door. When they come out the door you just say John 3:16, and they will let you in." So he did. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door, and a lady answered. He looked up and said, "John 3:16." The lady said, "Come on in, Son." She took him in and she sat him down in a split bottom rocker in front of a great big fireplace, and she went off. The boy sat there for a while and thought to himself: John 3:16...I don't understand it, but it sure makes a cold boy warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later she came back and asked him "Are you hungry?" He said, "Well, just a little. I haven't eaten in a couple of days, and I guess I could stand a little bit of food," The lady took him in the kitchen and sat him down to a table full of wonderful food. He ate and ate until he couldn't eat any more. Then he thought to himself: John 3:16...Boy, I sure don't understand it but it sure makes a hungry boy full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took him upstairs to a bathroom to a huge bathtub filled with warm water, and he sat there and soaked for a while. As he soaked, he thought to himself: John 3:16... I sure don't understand it, but it sure makes a dirty boy clean. You know, I've not had a bath, a real bath, in my whole life. The only bath I ever had was when I stood in front of that big fire hydrant as they flushed it out. The lady came in and got him. She took him to a room, tucked him into a big old feather bed, pulled the covers up around his neck, kissed him goodnight and turned out the lights. As he lay in the darkness and looked out the window at the snow coming down on that cold night, he thought to himself: John 3:16...I don't understand it but it sure makes a tired boy rested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning the lady came back up and took him down again to that same big table full of food. After he ate, she took him back to that same big old split bottom rocker in front of the fireplace and picked up a big Bible.&lt;br /&gt;She sat down in front of him and looked into his young face. "Do you understand John 3:16?" She asked gently. He replied, "No, Ma'am, I don't. The first time I ever heard it was last night when the policeman told me to use it," She opened the Bible to John 3:16 and began to explain to him about Jesus. Right there, in front of that big old fireplace, he gave his heart and life to Jesus. He sat there and thought: John 3:16....don't understand it, but it sure makes a lost boy feel safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I have to confess I don't understand it either, how God was willing to send His Son to die for me, and how Jesus would agree to do such a thing. I don't understand the agony of the Father and every angel in heaven as they watched Jesus suffer and die. I don't understand the intense love for ME that kept Jesus on the cross till the end. I don't understand it, but it sure does make life worth living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-3738056168154828078?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/3738056168154828078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=3738056168154828078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/3738056168154828078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/3738056168154828078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2007/05/john-316.html' title='John 3:16'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-4316737198425198799</id><published>2007-05-21T12:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:48:52.909-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A list to live by</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The most destructive habit..............................Worry &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The greatest Joy.......................................Giving &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The greatest loss........................Loss of self-respect &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most satisfying work.......................Helping others &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The ugliest personality trait.....................Selfishness &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most endangered species.................Dedicated leaders &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our greatest natural resource.......................Our youth &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The greatest "shot in the arm"..................Encouragement &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The greatest problem to overcome.........................Fear T&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;he most effective sleeping pill................Peace of mind &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most crippling failure disease....................Excuses &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most powerful force in life..........................Love &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most dangerous pariah..........................A gossiper &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The world's most incredible computer................The brain &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The worst thing to be without.... ...................... Hope &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The deadliest weapon...............................The tongue &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The two most power-filled words......................."I Can" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The greatest asset......................................Faith &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most worthless emotion..........................Self-pity &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most beautiful attire..............................SMILE! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most prized possession......................... Integrity &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most powerful channel of communication.............Prayer &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The most contagious spirit.........................Enthusiasm &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-4316737198425198799?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/4316737198425198799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=4316737198425198799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/4316737198425198799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/4316737198425198799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2007/05/list-to-live-by.html' title='A list to live by'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-7111306540538916683</id><published>2007-05-21T12:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:45:13.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>See the bright side of things</title><content type='html'>Date: TODAY          &lt;br /&gt;From: THE BOSS               &lt;br /&gt;Subject: YOURSELF        &lt;br /&gt;Reference: LIFE          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am God. Today I will be handling all of your problems. Please remember that I do not need your help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If life happens to deliver a situation to you that you cannot handle, donot attempt to resolve it. Kindly put it in the SFGTD (something for God to do) box. All situations will be resolved, but in My time, not yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the matter is placed into the box, do not hold onto it by worrying about it. Instead, focus on all the wonderful things that are present in your life now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you find yourself stuck in traffic; Don't despair. There are people inthis world for whom driving is an unheard of privilege.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you have a bad day at work; Think of the man who has been out of work for years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you grieve the passing of another weekend; Think of the woman in dire straits, working twelve hours a day, seven days a week to feed her children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should your car break down, leaving you miles away from assistance; Think of the paraplegic who would love the opportunity to take that walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you notice a new gray hair in the mirror; Think of the cancer patient in chemo who wishes she had hair to examine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you find yourself the victim of other people's bitterness,ignorance, smallness or insecurities; Remember, things could be worse. You could be one of them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you decide to send this to a friend; Thank you, you may have touched their life in ways you will never know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-7111306540538916683?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/7111306540538916683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=7111306540538916683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/7111306540538916683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/7111306540538916683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2007/05/see-bright-side-of-things.html' title='See the bright side of things'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-7909038832914657660</id><published>2007-05-21T12:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:36:13.127-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Yellow Shirt</title><content type='html'>(A good story &amp; lesson even if you don't forward it to&lt;br /&gt;anyone.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baggy yellow shirt had long sleeves, four&lt;br /&gt;extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread and snaps&lt;br /&gt;up the front. It was faded from years of wear, but&lt;br /&gt;still in decent shape. I found it in 1963 when I was&lt;br /&gt;home&lt;br /&gt;from college on Christmas break, rummaging through&lt;br /&gt;bags of clothes Mom intended to give away. "You're not&lt;br /&gt;taking that old thing, are you?" Mom said when she&lt;br /&gt;saw me packing the yellow shirt. "I wore that when I&lt;br /&gt;was pregnant with your brother in 1954!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during&lt;br /&gt;art class, Mom. Thanks!" I slipped it into my&lt;br /&gt;suitcase before she could object.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The yellow shirt became a part of my college wardrobe.&lt;br /&gt;I loved it. After graduation, I wore the shirt the day&lt;br /&gt;I moved into my new apartment and on Saturday mornings&lt;br /&gt;when I cleaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I&lt;br /&gt;wore the yellow shirt during big-belly days. I missed&lt;br /&gt;Mom and the rest of my family, since we were in&lt;br /&gt;Colorado and they were in Illinois. But that shirt&lt;br /&gt;helped. I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it&lt;br /&gt;when she was pregnant, 15 years earlier. That&lt;br /&gt;Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had&lt;br /&gt;given me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday&lt;br /&gt;paper and sent it to Mom. When Mom wrote to thank me&lt;br /&gt;for her "real" gifts, she said the yellow shirt was&lt;br /&gt;lovely. She never mentioned it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next year, my husband, daughter and I stopped at&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad's to pick up some furniture. Days later,&lt;br /&gt;when we uncrated the kitchen table, I noticed&lt;br /&gt;something yellow taped to its bottom. The shirt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the pattern was set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt&lt;br /&gt;under Mom and Dad's mattress. I don't know how long&lt;br /&gt;it took for her to find it, but almost two years&lt;br /&gt;passed before I discovered it under the base of our&lt;br /&gt;living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just&lt;br /&gt;what I needed now while refinishing furniture. The&lt;br /&gt;walnut stains added character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1975 my husband and I divorced. With my three&lt;br /&gt;children, prepared to move back to Illinois. As I&lt;br /&gt;packed, a deep depression overtook me. I wondered if&lt;br /&gt;I could make it on my own. I wondered if I would find&lt;br /&gt;a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I paged through the Bible, looking for comfort. In&lt;br /&gt;Ephesians, I read, "So use every piece of God's armor&lt;br /&gt;to resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it&lt;br /&gt;is all over, you will be standing up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to picture myself wearing God's armor, but all&lt;br /&gt;I saw was the stained yellow shirt. Slowly, it dawned&lt;br /&gt;on me. Wasn't my mother's love a piece of God's&lt;br /&gt;armor? My courage was renewed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the&lt;br /&gt;shirt back to Mother. The next time I visited her, I&lt;br /&gt;tucked it in her bottom dresser drawer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A&lt;br /&gt;year later I discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a&lt;br /&gt;rag bag in my cleaning closet. Something new had been&lt;br /&gt;added. Embroidered in bright green across the breast&lt;br /&gt;pocket were the words "I BELONG TO PAT."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery&lt;br /&gt;materials and added an apostrophe and seven more&lt;br /&gt;letters. Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, "I BELONG&lt;br /&gt;TO PAT'S MOTHER." But I didn't stop there. I&lt;br /&gt;zig-zagged all the frayed seams, then had a friend&lt;br /&gt;mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington,&lt;br /&gt;VA. We enclosed an official looking letter from "The&lt;br /&gt;Institute for the Destitute," announcing that she was&lt;br /&gt;the recipient of an award for good deeds. I would have&lt;br /&gt;given anything to see Mom's face when she opened the&lt;br /&gt;box. But, of course, she never mentioned it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. The day of our&lt;br /&gt;wedding, Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage&lt;br /&gt;to avoid practical jokers. After the wedding, while&lt;br /&gt;my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I reached&lt;br /&gt;for a pillow in the car to rest my head. It felt&lt;br /&gt;lumpy. I unzipped the case and found, wrapped in&lt;br /&gt;wedding paper, the yellow shirt. Inside a pocket was&lt;br /&gt;a note: "Read John 14:27-29. I love you both, Mother."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I paged through the Bible in a hotel room&lt;br /&gt;and found the verses: "I am leaving you with a gift:&lt;br /&gt;peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn't&lt;br /&gt;fragile like the peace the world gives. So don't be&lt;br /&gt;troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am&lt;br /&gt;going away, but I will come back to you again. If you&lt;br /&gt;really love me, you will be very happy for me, for now&lt;br /&gt;I can go to the Father, Who is greater than I am. I&lt;br /&gt;have told you these things before they happen so that&lt;br /&gt;when they do, you will believe in me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for&lt;br /&gt;three months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig's&lt;br /&gt;disease. Mother died the following year at age 57.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her&lt;br /&gt;grave. But I'm glad I didn't, because it is a vivid&lt;br /&gt;reminder of the love-filled game she and I played for&lt;br /&gt;16 years. Besides, my older daughter is in college&lt;br /&gt;now, majoring in art. And every art student needs a&lt;br /&gt;baggy yellow shirt with big pockets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONE. Give people more than they expect and do it&lt;br /&gt;cheerfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO. Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you&lt;br /&gt;get older, their conversational skills will be as&lt;br /&gt;important as any other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE. Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have&lt;br /&gt;or sleep all you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOUR. When you say, "I love you," mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIVE. When you say, "I'm sorry," look the person in&lt;br /&gt;the eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIX. Be engaged at least six months before you get&lt;br /&gt;married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEVEN. Believe in love at first sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EIGHT. Never laugh at anyone's dreams. People who&lt;br /&gt;don't have dreams don't have much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NINE. Love deeply and passionately. You might get&lt;br /&gt;hurt but it's the only way to live life completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEN. In disagreements, fight fairly. No name&lt;br /&gt;calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ELEVEN. Don't judge people by their relatives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWELVE. Talk slowly but think quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIRTEEN. When someone asks you a question you don't&lt;br /&gt;want to answer, smile and ask, "Why do you want to&lt;br /&gt;know?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOURTEEN. Remember that great love and great&lt;br /&gt;achievements involve great risk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIFTEEN. Say "bless you" when you hear someone&lt;br /&gt;sneeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIXTEEN. When you lose, don't lose the lesson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEVENTEEN. Remember the three R's: Respect for self;&lt;br /&gt;Respect for others; and Responsibility for all your actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EIGHTEEN. Don't let a little dispute injure a great&lt;br /&gt;friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NINETEEN. When you realize you've made a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;take immediate steps to correct it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWENTY. Smile when picking up the phone.&lt;br /&gt;The caller will hear it in your voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWENTY-ONE. Spend some time alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-7909038832914657660?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/7909038832914657660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=7909038832914657660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/7909038832914657660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/7909038832914657660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2007/05/yellow-shirt.html' title='The Yellow Shirt'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-6762022185574386912</id><published>2007-05-21T12:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:22:30.924-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends...it's great to have them</title><content type='html'>One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."&lt;br /&gt;I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible&lt;br /&gt;sadness in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives." He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!"&lt;br /&gt;There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna rea lly build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak. Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him.&lt;br /&gt;Boy, sometimes I was jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable." I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment.&lt;br /&gt;I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-6762022185574386912?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/6762022185574386912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=6762022185574386912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/6762022185574386912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/6762022185574386912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2007/05/friendsits-great-to-have-them.html' title='Friends...it&apos;s great to have them'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-527026581899771002</id><published>2007-05-21T12:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:14:36.570-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To Realize</title><content type='html'>To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of a sister&lt;br /&gt;Ask someone&lt;br /&gt;Who doesn't have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of ten years:&lt;br /&gt;Ask a newly&lt;br /&gt;Divorced couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of four years:&lt;br /&gt;Ask a graduate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of one year:&lt;br /&gt;Ask a student who&lt;br /&gt;Has failed a final exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of nine months:&lt;br /&gt;Ask a mother who gave birth to a still born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of one month:&lt;br /&gt;Ask a mother who has given birth to a premature baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of one week:&lt;br /&gt;Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of one hour:&lt;br /&gt;Ask the lovers who are waiting to Meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realizeThe value of one minute:&lt;br /&gt;Ask a person&lt;br /&gt;Who has missed the train, bus or plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realizeThe value of one-second:&lt;br /&gt;Ask a person&lt;br /&gt;Who has survived an accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize&lt;br /&gt;The value of one millisecond:&lt;br /&gt;Ask the person who has won a silver medal in the&lt;br /&gt;Olympics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To realize the value of a friend:&lt;br /&gt;Lose one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time waits For no one.&lt;br /&gt;Treasure every moment you have.&lt;br /&gt;You will treasure it even more when&lt;br /&gt;you can share it with someone special.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-527026581899771002?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/527026581899771002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=527026581899771002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/527026581899771002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/527026581899771002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2007/05/to-realize.html' title='To Realize'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-7132534138625058663</id><published>2007-05-21T11:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:10:10.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear Misery,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just came out into my mind and I can't &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;understand the reason why I had written it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some says, that you will feel complete, you feel &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that you are in heaven, you feel that the world &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;stops and all you want to do is to be with your &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;love one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But some says, that its better not to love when &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;in return, you'll just cry and be hurt or even &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;want to forget everything the two of you had &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shared. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you love, you just want to forget everything &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that is happening around you but the truth is &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that when you fall in love, you must accept the &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;other side of it, that is to be hurt, to cry, to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;weep, to mourn, to curse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here it goes,&lt;br /&gt;Some says, that when you fall in love &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You feel complete, that the world had stopped, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you are always happy, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you are always in the state of bliss.&lt;br /&gt;Some says, that when you fall in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Its better not to love at all, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When in return, you'll just going to cry, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And want to forget everything, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Throw all memories behind, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And that you are always regretful of everything &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And that you'll just going to suffer in the end.&lt;br /&gt;Is this life should be, win and loose, be happy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and be sad, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Joy and sorrow, bliss and suffer, laugh and cry, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love and Broken hearted, to love and not to be &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Why should there be -and-if-but- in life, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Why cant there be one word that would stand above &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;all and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The other one would be vanished and be erased for &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;good.&lt;br /&gt;Some says its happiness, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some says its sadness, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But for me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is to be hurt, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is to suffer, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is to cry for some one, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is to enjoy each companion, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is to cherish each moment &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As if it would be the last moment, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cause you don’t know when it last, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When its gonna start, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When its gonna start again, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When its gonna end, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When its gonna heal, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When its gonna permanently be over,&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is such a word that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can associate with everything, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is so mysterious &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you can't predict when you fall in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When you should be in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When you be in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Why you should be in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Why you be in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Who you be in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or sometimes, you just gonna ask yourself &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Why do you love him/her, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or if you found out the answer, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You'll gonna ask again, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do I really love her? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are we really meant for each other?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are we really meant to last forever?&lt;br /&gt;You don’t know &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When you'll ask that question, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It will just come uninvited in you door and knock. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But sometimes, it is so mysterious, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you can't even distinguish &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The truth between the wrong one, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You don’t know anymore, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Whom to believe, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Whom to trust,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Whom to love.&lt;br /&gt;Those who are in love right know, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;May think that its to obvious to know that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or to corny to read/hear but mind you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Its TRUE! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;People who are in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don’t know anymore the meaning of true love, of &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;reality, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Where the love just keep on denying something, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That they don’t like to see, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That they don’t like to hear or even feel.&lt;br /&gt;Lovers just want to live &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In the world of fantasies and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Forget reality and be with their love one &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And don’t want to let him/her go, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don’t want to say goodbye, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don’t want to see him walk away from you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you keep on trying to heal &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The division between the two of you.&lt;br /&gt;Or other don’t want to be together all the time, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Others want to have some space between them, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That there should be a gap between the two of &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;them, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That there should be a difference between them, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That there should be a time for everything,&lt;br /&gt;Others, those who have perfect relationships, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Says that it's not bad at all to fall in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It pays though you get to be buttered, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Be kicked, be slapped, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Be left alone, or even the worst situation -to be &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;killed,&lt;br /&gt;For others say its better to love than not to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;love at all, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Others say that first impression last, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Others say, that it is sweeter in the second time &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;around, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That to forgive and to forget, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But, is that really easy to do? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you forgive the sin/s of the person that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;have hurt your feelings, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Because you love him, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Does it mean to be blind of everything? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Be blind and accept everything for the reason &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that you love him/her? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Others may not believe me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But let me emphasize this few words of mine, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Be blind, reality, fantasy, love, be love, hurt, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sorrows, joy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do these words sounds familiar to you?&lt;br /&gt;Or are you deaf, blind? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or on denial of something, everything? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or just want to have some person to play with? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or just to have a person to be with, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For you don’t have any? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or want to have a companion? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A person to cry on? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A person, that will listen to you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A person to fool? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A person to cherish? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A person to love?&lt;br /&gt;Are you that kind of a person, that wants to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;accept reality? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who live in a &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;world of fantasy? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who don’t want to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sacrifice something? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who doesn't know &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;what to do? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who doesn't know &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;how to love? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Who don’t know that if someone had loved &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;him/her? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who wants to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;escape something? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who is curious of &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;something, everything? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who is seeking for &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the perfect one? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who is looking for &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the ideal one? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person, who is in need of &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;help? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you that kind of a person who has a lot of &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;questions in mind? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;These are just some questions in your mind, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;aren't they? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I can't answer your questions, but partly I &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;do, does love ring a bell?&lt;br /&gt;Let me conclude this with simple words, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That can be understood by many… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is a simple word, yet its meaning is &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;undefined. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For there are so many kinds of love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is a love for one another - friendship, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is a love of God, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is a love of Country, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is a love of Brother/Sister, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is a love of a special person - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;relationship, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is a love of parent-child,&lt;br /&gt;For there are so many trials, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Problems, quests in order to find one that you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;really need most. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There are so many trials in order to improve love &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(in general).&lt;br /&gt;Know where do you belong? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you need? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do you want some help? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do you know what to do about it?&lt;br /&gt;*Know for some lovers out there &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To love needs to sacrifice something, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To accept everything, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you are not ready to shed tears for someone, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You are not ready to fall in love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you are ready to cry, to be hurt, to have joy, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To experience the unusual, to suffer, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To try to love truly, start in yourself first, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don’t take for granted the daily things you are &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;doing, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Make the usual day unusual. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And lastly PRAY TO GOD ALWAYS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Know take this moment to ponder of things around &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Reflect for a while, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Relax for a mean time, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meditate for things that is deep down inside you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ask yourself, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don’t be afraid to face your fears, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don’t be afraid to sacrifice something, time and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;alike&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be afraid to face yourself, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;May this letter change some of your point of view &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yours truly,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love,?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-7132534138625058663?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/7132534138625058663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=7132534138625058663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/7132534138625058663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/7132534138625058663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2007/05/dear-misery-it-just-came-out-into-my.html' title='Love ?'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-116457703080787585</id><published>2006-11-26T16:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T16:37:10.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sad Goodbye</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;“Mitch, come down. Dinner is ready. Your father is waiting at the table.” I heard my mother calling as I put on my high-heeled shoes. I grabbed my shoulder bag lying on my bed and hurried downstairs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;“Why are you dressed up?” My father who is suffering from rheumatic heart asked weakly. “I don’t remember you asking permission to go somewhere?” my mother said. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;“Ah! I am going to a party. I just can’t say no to Alice. It’s her birthday today. But… did I not ask permission from you, Ma?”“Oh no, not yet.” she answered. I begged and begged and begged until she agreed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;“But why don’t you have dinner with us first? If I am not mistaken, this is you favorite food, tinola?” my father asked, coughing in between.“Oh Pa, you know that I don’t’ always like to be late. I’m afraid Charles and Yssa will come any minute now, and I don’t want them to see that I’m not yet ready.” I answered. “Besides, I think there are foods much better than tinola at the party!” I added thoughtlessly. I saw my father bowed his head and all of a sudden, I felt guilty because I should not have said that in the first place.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Loud honks of a car were heard outside. I kissed my father and my mother. But still my father did not show any emotion and I know that he was hurt by the things I have said to him. I waved goodbye to them and off we went.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When we reached the three-storey house of Alice, there were many visitors and food was served on long tables.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We danced and danced, Charles, Yssa and my friends. We ate delicious foods. Oh! What a wonderful night we had. At about ten o’clock in the evening, a wave of cool air passed in front of me. My hands trembled, my heart beat faster, and I felt cold. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Suddenly, I saw my father at the big gate as if waiting for someone – that was surely me because he was smiling at me. I looked at everyone but I think no one seemed to notice the presence of my father. I ran to where he stood and asked, “Why are you here Papa? Isn’t it bad for you to drive long distances?”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He just smiled at me and said, “I love you Mitch, my only child.”I ignored what he said. “Papa, please go home. I will follow you afterwards and I am sure that Mama is waiting for you already.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;“I will go ahead Mitch, goodbye and I love you.” He answered.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I turned back and looked for Charles and Yssa in the crowd for I felt a sudden urge to go home. When I found them, I told them that I wanted to go home and if we drove fast, we could catch up with Papa. We bade goodbye to Alice, then we went home. I was wondering why we never saw the car of Papa. I asked myself why. I knew he drives slowly and carefully.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When we reached home, no sound was heard; nobody was in the house. I shouted but nobody answered me. One of my neighbors came rushing. “Thank God, Mitch, you’re back. Your father was rushed to the hospital. He had a heart attack.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I heard this, I hurried into the car and asked Charles to come with me to the hospital. When we reached the hospital, I saw my mother crying in a corner. When she saw me, we hugged each other. “Your father is gone. He was rushed here after supper.” She said. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We cried together. “Papa, why did you leave us? Why?”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I asked myself secretly why Papa came to the party, why no one noticed him, why he said he’ll go ahead, why did he say goodbye?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Questions! These are questions that need to be answered. But no one could answer them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That was my father’s sad goodbye.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-116457703080787585?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/116457703080787585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=116457703080787585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/116457703080787585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/116457703080787585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/11/sad-goodbye.html' title='A Sad Goodbye'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-116018948995239300</id><published>2006-10-06T22:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T22:51:29.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>No matter what the current circumstances of your life, you undoubtedlyhave much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. If you take the time to think about how God has worked in your life lately - in both big andsmall ways - you'll likely discover many reasons for gratitude. And don't forget about the many aspects of God's character that make Him sowonderful. You can praise Him out of gratitude for who He is as well aswhat He does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some ways you can give thanks to God this Thanksgiving:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Take some time to reflect on the blessings in your life and make alist of some of them. Praise God for each one, and for the fact that Heis a Father who loves to give good gifts to His children. Remember thatultimately it's because of God that you have anything at all - even lifeitself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Think about the various aspects of God's character that mean the mostto you. Thank God for specific ways that your life reflects thoseaspects of God's character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Thank God for His constant presence in His life and His willingnessto answer your prayers at all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Thank God for the ultimate gift of salvation that He offers, and forthe sacrifices Christ made on the cross to make that possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Tell others about ways God has shown mercy to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Sing praises to God, using music as a tool to worship Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Commit to serving God in your life as a way of expressing yourgratitude for all He has done for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-116018948995239300?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/116018948995239300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=116018948995239300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/116018948995239300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/116018948995239300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/10/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115964101165747952</id><published>2006-09-30T14:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T14:30:11.673-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I a Fireman Yet??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;HOW  BIG  OUR  GOD  IS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Stop telling God how big your storm is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Instead tell your storm how big your GOD is!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In Phoenix, Arizona, a 26-year-old mother stareddown at her 6 year old son, who was dying ofterminal leukaemia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Although her heart was filled with sadness,she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up &amp;fulfil all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible. The leukaemia would see to that. But she stillwanted her son's dream to come true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She took her son's hand and asked,"Billy, did you ever think about what you wantedto be once you grew up?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Did you ever dream and wish what you would do withyour life?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mommy, "I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we canmake your wish come true." Later that day she went to her local firedepartment in Phoenix, Arizona,where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as bigas Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish andasked if it might be possible to give her 6 yearold son a ride around the block on a fire engine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fireman Bob said, "Look, we can do better than that.  If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clockWednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary fireman for the whole day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We can come down to the fire station, eat with us,go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards!&lt;br /&gt;And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy --one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Departmenton it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix, sowe can get them fast." Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy,dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waitinghook and ladder truck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and helpsteer it back to the fire station.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He was in heaven.There were three fire calls in Phoenix that dayand Billy got to go out on all three calls.He rode in the different fire engines, theparamedic's van, and even the fire chief's car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He was also videotaped for the local news program.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Having his dream come true,with all the Love and attention that was lavishedupon him, so deeply touched Billy,that he lived three months longer than any doctorthought possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;One night all of his vital signs began to dropdramatically and the head nurse, who believed&lt;br /&gt;in the hospice concept - that no oneshould die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as afireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it wouldbe possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The chief replied, "We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will you please do me a favour? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system, that there is not a fire? It's the department coming to see one of its finestmembers one more time. And will you open the window to his room?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;About five minutes later a hook and ladder truckarrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window--------16 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him&lt;br /&gt;and told him how much they LOVED him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With his dying breath,Billy looked up at the fire chief and said,"Chief, am I really a fireman now?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Billy, you are, and the Head Chief,Jesus, is holding your  hand," the chief said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With those words, Billy smiled and said,"I know, He's been holding my hand all day, andthe angels have been singing.."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He closed his eyes one last time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115964101165747952?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115964101165747952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115964101165747952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115964101165747952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115964101165747952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/09/am-i-fireman-yet.html' title='Am I a Fireman Yet??'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115949231911909697</id><published>2006-09-28T21:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T21:11:59.133-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Underestimate the power of prayer</title><content type='html'>A young university student was home for the summer. She had gone to visit some friends one evening and time passed quickly as each shared their various experiences of the past year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She ended up staying longer than planned, and had to walk home alone. She wasn't afraid because it was a small town and she lived only a few blocks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she walked along under the tall elm trees, Diane asked "God" to keep her safe from harm and danger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she reached the alley, which was a shortcut to her house, she decided to take it. However, halfway down the alley she noticed a man standing at the end as though he were waiting for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She became uneasy and began to pray, asking for "God's" protection. Instantly a comforting feeling of quietness and security wrapped around her, she felt as though someone was walking with her. When she reached the end of the alley, she walked right past the man and arrived home safely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following day, she read in the newspaper that a young girl had been raped in the same alley just twenty minutes after she had been there. Feeling overwhelmed by this tragedy and the fact that it could have been her, she began to weep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanking the Lord for her safety and to help this young woman, she decided to go to the police station. She felt she could recognize the man, so she told them her story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The police asked her if she would be willing to look at a lineup to see if she could identify him. She agreed and immediately pointed out the man she had seen in the alley the night before. When the man was told he had been identified, he immediately broke down and confessed. The officer thanked Diane for her bravery and asked if there was anything they could do for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She asked if they would ask the man one question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diane was curious as to why he had not attacked her. When the policeman asked him, he answered, " Because she wasn't alone. She had two tall men walking on either side of her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115949231911909697?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115949231911909697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115949231911909697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115949231911909697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115949231911909697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/09/dont-underestimate-power-of-prayer_28.html' title='Don&apos;t Underestimate the power of prayer'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115896323979209958</id><published>2006-09-22T18:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T18:14:52.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What if God... ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if God decided to stop leading us tomorrow because we didn't follow Him today? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if God couldn't take the time to bless us today because we couldn't take the time to thank Him yesterday?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if we never saw another flower bloom because we grumbled when God sent the rain?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if God didn't walk with us today because we failed to recognize it as His day? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if, God took away the Bible tomorrow because we would not read it today?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if, God took away His message because we failed to listen to the messenger?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....THINK ABOUT THIS ONE.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if, God didn't send His only begotten Son because He wanted us to be prepared to pay the price for sin?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if, the door of the church was closed because we did not open the door of our heart? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if, God stopped loving and caring for us because we failed to love and care for others?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if, God would not hear us today because we would not listen to Him?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if, God answered our prayers the way we answer His call to service?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What if, God met our needs the way we give Him our lives???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115896323979209958?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115896323979209958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115896323979209958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115896323979209958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115896323979209958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-if-god.html' title='What if God... ?'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115841442528804213</id><published>2006-09-16T09:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T09:47:05.303-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Version of "Footprints"</title><content type='html'>Imagine you and the Lord Jesus are walking down the road together. For much of the way, the Lord's footprints go along steadily, consistently, rarely varying the pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But your footprints are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures, and returns.&lt;br /&gt;For much of the way, it seems to go like this, but gradually your footprints come more in line with the Lord's, soon paralleling His consistently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and Jesus are walking as true friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens: Your footprints that once etched the sand next to Jesus' are now walking precisely in His steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside His larger footprints are your smaller ones, you and Jesus are becoming one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This goes on for many miles, but gradually you notice another change. The footprints inside the large footprints seem to grow larger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually they disappear altogether. There is only one set of footprints. They have become one.&lt;br /&gt;This goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is back. This time it seems even worse! Zigzags all over the place. Stops. Starts. Gashes in the sand. A variable mess of prints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are amazed and shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dream ends. Now you pray:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lord, I understand the first scene, with zigzags and fits. I was a new Christian; I was just learning. But You walked on through the storm and helped me learn to walk with You."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That is correct."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And when the smaller footprints were inside of Yours, I was actually learning to walk in Your steps, following You very closely."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very good.. You have understood everything so far."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the smaller footprints grew and filled in Yours, I suppose that I was becoming like You in every way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Precisely."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, Lord, was there a regression or something? The footprints separated, and this time it was worse than at first."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a pause as the Lord answers, with a smile in His voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: A time to weep, a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ecclesiastes 3:1,4.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115841442528804213?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115841442528804213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115841442528804213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115841442528804213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115841442528804213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/09/new-version-of-footprints.html' title='New Version of &quot;Footprints&quot;'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115673028949116395</id><published>2006-08-27T21:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T22:05:41.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The 7 Ups!</title><content type='html'>1. Wake Up !!&lt;br /&gt;Decide to have a good day."This is the day the Lord hath made;let us rejoice and be glad in it."&lt;br /&gt;Psalms 118:24&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Dress Up !!&lt;br /&gt;The best way to dress up is to put on a smile.A smile is an inexpensive way to improve your looks."The Lord does not look at the things man looks at.Man looks at outward appearance,but the Lord looks at the heart."&lt;br /&gt;I Samuel 16:7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Shut Up!!&lt;br /&gt;Say nice things and learn to listen.God gave us two ears and one mouth,so He must have meant for us to do twice as much listening as talking."He who guards his lips guards his soul."&lt;br /&gt;Proverbs 13:3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Stand Up!!&lt;br /&gt;. . . for what you believe in.Stand for something or you will fall for anything."Let us not be weary in doing good; for at the proper time,we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good..."&lt;br /&gt;Galatians 6:9-10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Look Up !!&lt;br /&gt;. . . to the Lord."I can do everything through Christ who strengthens me".&lt;br /&gt;Philippians 4:13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Reach Up !!&lt;br /&gt;. . . for something higher."Trust in the Lord with all your heart,and lean not unto your own understanding.In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path."&lt;br /&gt;Proverbs 3:5-6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Lift Up !!&lt;br /&gt;. . . your Prayers."Do not worry about anything; instead PRAY ABOUT EVERYTHING."&lt;br /&gt;Philippians 4:6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A POSITIVE THOUGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.&lt;br /&gt;If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it.He sends you flowers every spring, and a sunrise every morning.&lt;br /&gt;Whenever you want to talk, He'll listen.&lt;br /&gt;He could live anywhere in the universe, and He chose your heart.&lt;br /&gt;What about the Christmas gift He sent you in Bethlehem;not to mention that Friday at Calvary.&lt;br /&gt;Face it, He's crazy about you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115673028949116395?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115673028949116395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115673028949116395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115673028949116395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115673028949116395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/08/7-ups.html' title='The 7 Ups!'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115655525892204767</id><published>2006-08-25T21:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T21:20:58.930-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a great note</title><content type='html'>"You can always tell when you haven't done enough, but you can't ever tell when you've done too much. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great note for all to read it will take just 37 seconds to read this and change your thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days and weeks passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Epilogue:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115655525892204767?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115655525892204767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115655525892204767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115655525892204767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115655525892204767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/08/great-note.html' title='a great note'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115548403823283939</id><published>2006-08-13T11:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T11:47:52.133-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Very touching story about Faith</title><content type='html'>Somewhere in Milaor, Camarines Sur, there lived a fourth&lt;br /&gt;grader boy who would follow this route to school everyday: He has to cross&lt;br /&gt;the rugged plains and cross the dangerous highway where vehicles are&lt;br /&gt;recklessly driving to and from.&lt;br /&gt;Once past this highway, the boy would take a short cut,&lt;br /&gt;passing by the Church every morning just to say Hi to God, and faithfully&lt;br /&gt;say his, "Magandang umaga po" in Bicol dialect. He was&lt;br /&gt;faithfully being watched by a Priest who was happy to find innocence so&lt;br /&gt;uplifting in the morning,&lt;br /&gt;"Kamusta, Andoy? Papasok ka na?"&lt;br /&gt;"Opo padre ... "he would flash his innocent grin, the priest&lt;br /&gt;would be touched. He was so concerned that one day he talked to&lt;br /&gt;Andoy. "From school...", he advised "Do not cross the highway, you&lt;br /&gt;can pass through the Church and I can accompany you to the other&lt;br /&gt;side of the road...that way I can see t! hat you are home safe...."&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you father ... "&lt;br /&gt;"Why don't you go home ... why do you stay in&lt;br /&gt;this church right after school?"&lt;br /&gt;"I just want to say 'Hi' to my friend, God," and the&lt;br /&gt;priest would leave the boy to spend time beside the altar,&lt;br /&gt;talking to himself, but the priest was hiding behind the&lt;br /&gt;! altar to listen to what this boy has to say to his heavenly FATHER.&lt;br /&gt;"You know my math exam was pretty bad today, but I did not&lt;br /&gt;cheat although my seatmate is bullying me for notes... I ate one cracker&lt;br /&gt;and drank my water, Itay had a bad season and all I can eat is this&lt;br /&gt;cracker.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for this! I saw a poor kitten who was hungry and I&lt;br /&gt;know how he feels so I gave my last cracker to him ... funny but I am&lt;br /&gt;not that hungry. Look, this is my last pair of slippers ...I may have to walk&lt;br /&gt;barefoot next week, you see this is about to be broken... but it is&lt;br /&gt;okay....at least I am still going to school.... Some say we will have a hard&lt;br /&gt;season this month, some of my classmates have already stopped going to school&lt;br /&gt;....please help them get to school again, please God?&lt;br /&gt;...Oh, you know, Inay hit me again, it is painful, but I&lt;br /&gt;know this pain will pass away, at least I still have a mother.... God, you&lt;br /&gt;want to see my bruises? I know you can heal them.... Here... here and ....&lt;br /&gt;oh ...blood!...I guess you knew about this one huh? Please don't be mad&lt;br /&gt;at Inay, she is just tired and she worries for the food in our table and my&lt;br /&gt;schooling that is why she hits us....Oh, I think I am in love ... there's&lt;br /&gt;this pretty girl in my class, her name is Anita ... do you think she will like me? Anyway, at&lt;br /&gt;least I know you will always like me, I don't have to be anybody just to&lt;br /&gt;please you, you are my very best friend! Hey your birthday is two days from&lt;br /&gt;now!!! Aren't you excited? I am! Wait till you see, I have a gift for you&lt;br /&gt;.....but it is a surprise! I hope you will like it! Oooops, I have to go ..."&lt;br /&gt;then he stood up and calls out, "Padre, pa! dre, I am finished talking to my&lt;br /&gt;friend ....you can accompany me to the other side of the road now"&lt;br /&gt;This routine happens everyday. Andoy never fails. Father&lt;br /&gt;Agaton shares this ! every Sunday to the people in his church because he has not&lt;br /&gt;seen a very pure faith and trust in God, a very positive look at&lt;br /&gt;negative situations.&lt;br /&gt;One Christmas day, Father Agaton was sick so he could not&lt;br /&gt;make it in the Church, he was sent to the hospital. The Church was left to&lt;br /&gt;4 manangs who would chant the rosary in 1000 miles per hour, would not&lt;br /&gt;smile and would always find fault in what you do, they were also very well&lt;br /&gt;versed in cursing if you irritate them! They were kneeling, saying their&lt;br /&gt;kilometric rosary when Andoy, coming from his Christmas party, playfully dashed in.&lt;br /&gt;"Hello God! I ......"&lt;br /&gt;"P----!! (a curse) bata ka!! Alam mo nang may nagdadasal!!&lt;br /&gt;Alis!!"&lt;br /&gt;Poor Andoy was so terrified, "Where's Father Agaton? He is&lt;br /&gt;supposed to help me cross the street ... and to be able to cross the&lt;br /&gt;street I will have to pass by the back door of this church ...not only that, I&lt;br /&gt;have to greet Jesus. It is His birthday, I have a gift right here.... &lt;br /&gt;" Just as he was about to get the gift out of his shirt, the&lt;br /&gt;manang pulled his shirt and threw him out of the church. "Susmaryosep!!!&lt;br /&gt;(does the sign of the cross fervently) Alis kang bata ka, kung hindi&lt;br /&gt;ma! tatamaan ka!!!&lt;br /&gt;So the boy had no choice but to cross the dangerous side of&lt;br /&gt;the road in front of the church. He crossed. A fast moving bus came in.&lt;br /&gt;There was a blind curve. The boy was protecting his gift&lt;br /&gt;inside his shirt, so he was not looking. There was so little time. Andoy died&lt;br /&gt;on the spot. A lot of people crowded the poor boy, the body of a lifeless&lt;br /&gt;young boy ...&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, out of nowhere a tall man in a pure white shirt&lt;br /&gt;and pants, a face so mild and gentle, but with eyes full of tears... He&lt;br /&gt;came and carried the boy in His arms. He was crying. Curious bystanders&lt;br /&gt;nudged the man in white, and asked,&lt;br /&gt;"Excuse me sir, are you related to this child?&lt;br /&gt;Do you know this child?"&lt;br /&gt;The man in white, His face mourning and in agony, looked up&lt;br /&gt;and answered,&lt;br /&gt;"He was my best friend .... " was all he said. He took the&lt;br /&gt;badly wrapped gift in the bloody chest of the lifeless boy, and&lt;br /&gt;placed it near His heart.&lt;br /&gt;He stood up and carried the boy away and they both&lt;br /&gt;disappeared in sight.&lt;br /&gt;The crowd was curious ...&lt;br /&gt;On Christmas Eve, Father Agaton learned of the shocking&lt;br /&gt;news. He visited the house, and wanted to verify about the man in white. He&lt;br /&gt;consulted the parents of Andoy.&lt;br /&gt;"How did you know that your son died?"&lt;br /&gt;"A man in white brought him here." sobbed the mother. "What&lt;br /&gt;did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;The father answered, "He did not say anything. He was&lt;br /&gt;mourning.We do not know him and yet he was very lonely about our son's death,&lt;br /&gt;as if he knew our son very well. But there was something peaceful and&lt;br /&gt;unexplainable about him. He gave me my son, and then he smiled peacefully. He brushed my&lt;br /&gt;son's hair away from his face and kissed him on his forehead, then he&lt;br /&gt;whispered something..."&lt;br /&gt;"What did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;"He said to my boy..." the father began, "Thank you for the&lt;br /&gt;gift ... I will see you soon ... you will be with me..." ! and the father&lt;br /&gt;of the boy continued, "and you know for a while, it felt so&lt;br /&gt;wonderful ... I cried, but I do not know why....all I know is I&lt;br /&gt;cried tears of joy .... I could not explain it, Father, but when&lt;br /&gt;that man left, something peaceful came over me, I felt a&lt;br /&gt;deep sense of love inside ... I could not explain the joy in my heart,&lt;br /&gt;I knew my boy is in heaven now but...tell me, Father, who is this&lt;br /&gt;man that my son talks to everyday in your church, you should know because&lt;br /&gt;you are always there ... except at the time of his death ......"Father&lt;br /&gt;Agaton suddenly felt the tears welling in his eyes, with&lt;br /&gt;trembling knees, he murmurred, " ... He was talking to no&lt;br /&gt;one ..... but .. GOD...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115548403823283939?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115548403823283939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115548403823283939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115548403823283939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115548403823283939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/08/very-touching-story-about-faith.html' title='A Very touching story about Faith'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115526201414188276</id><published>2006-08-10T21:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T22:06:54.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One of the Best Stories I've Ever Heard</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of   school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked   at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that   was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was   a  little boy named Teddy Stoddard.!&lt;br /&gt;  Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did   not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and   that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.   It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in   marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting   a big "F" at the top of his papers.&lt;br /&gt;  At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each   child's past rec! ords and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when   she  reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.&lt;br /&gt;  Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready   laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners... he is a joy to be   around.."&lt;br /&gt;  His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well   liked  by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a   terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."&lt;br /&gt;  His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him.   He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and   his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."&lt;br /&gt;  Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show   much interest in school.  He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes   sleeps in class."&lt;br /&gt;  By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of   herself.  She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas   presents,  wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for   Teddy's. His  present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that   he got from a  grocery bag.  Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the   middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when   she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a   bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume.  But she stifled the   children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was,   putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy   Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs.   Thompson, today you smelled just like my  Mom used to."&lt;br /&gt;  After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very   day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she   began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to   Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive.  The more   she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the  year,   Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite   her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one   of her "teacher's pets.."&lt;br /&gt;  A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her   that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.&lt;br /&gt;  Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote   that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still   the best teacher he ever had in life.&lt;br /&gt;  Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things   had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and   would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured   Mrs. Thompso! n that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had   ever had in his whole life.&lt;br /&gt;  Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he   explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a   little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and   favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer....   The  letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.&lt;br /&gt;  The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter !   that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married.   He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was   wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place   that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.  Of course, Mrs.   Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with   several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the   perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas   together&lt;br /&gt;  They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's   ear,  "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for   making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."&lt;br /&gt;  Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy,   you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a   difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  (For you that don't know, Teddy Stoddard is the Dr. at Iowa Methodist in   &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /&gt;Des Moines that has the Stoddard Cancer   Wing.) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115526201414188276?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115526201414188276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115526201414188276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115526201414188276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115526201414188276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/08/one-of-best-stories-ive-ever-heard_10.html' title='One of the Best Stories I&apos;ve Ever Heard'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115393771410552915</id><published>2006-07-26T14:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T21:50:25.303-04:00</updated><title type='text'>THE POEM</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;I knelt to pray but not for long, I had too much to do.&lt;br /&gt;I had to hurry and get to work For bills would soon be due.&lt;br /&gt;So I knelt and said a hurried prayer,&lt;br /&gt;And jumped up off my knees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Christian duty was now done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul could rest at ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All day long I had no time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To spread a word of cheer. No time to speak of Christ to friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They'd laugh at me I'd fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No time, no time, too much to do,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my constant cry,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No time to give to souls in need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at last the time, the time to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went before the Lord, I came, I stood with downcast eyes.&lt;br /&gt;For in his hands God held a book;&lt;br /&gt;It was the book of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God looked into his book and said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your name I cannot find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once was going to write it down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But never found the time" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115393771410552915?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115393771410552915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115393771410552915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115393771410552915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115393771410552915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/07/poem.html' title='THE POEM'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115384337081493975</id><published>2006-07-25T12:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T21:48:09.693-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Difference Between Rich and Poor People</title><content type='html'>One day, the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people live.&lt;br /&gt;They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was great, Dad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah," said the son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son answered:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I saw that we have one dog and they had four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have servants who serve us, but they serve others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We buy our food, but they grow theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy's father was speechless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then his son added, "Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Appreciate every single thing you have, especially your friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life is too short and friends are too few."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115384337081493975?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115384337081493975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115384337081493975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115384337081493975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115384337081493975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/07/difference-between-rich-and-poor.html' title='The Difference Between Rich and Poor People'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31586499.post-115376254795609631</id><published>2006-07-24T13:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T21:47:14.376-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An Unemployed Graduate</title><content type='html'>An unemployed graduate woke up one morning and checked his pocket. All he had left was $10. He decided to use it to buy food and then wait for death as he was too proud to go begging. He was frustrated as he could find no job, and nobody was ready to help him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He bought food and as he sat down to eat, an old man and two little children came along and asked him to help them with food as they had not eaten for almost a week. He looked at them. They were so lean that he could see their bones coming out. Their eyes had gone into the socket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the last bit of compassion he had, he gave them the food. The old man and children prayed that God would bless and prosper him and then gave him a very old coin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young graduate said to them "you need the prayer more than I do".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With no money, no job, no food, the young graduate went under the bridge to rest and wait for death. As he was about to sleep, he saw an old newspaper on the ground. He picked it up, and suddenly he saw an ad vertisement for people with old coins to come to a certain address.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided to go there with the old coin the old man gave him. On getting to the place, he gave the proprietor the coin. The proprietor screamed, brought out a big book and showed the young graduate a photograph. This same old coin was worth 3 million dollars. The young graduate was overjoyed as the proprietor gave him a bank draft for 3 million dollars within an hour. He collected the Bank Draft and went in search of the old man and little children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time he got to where he left them eating, they had gone. He asked the owner of the canteen if he knew them. He said no but they left a note for you. He quickly opened the note thinking it would lead him to find them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what the note said: "You gave us your all and we have rewarded you back with the coin" Signed God the Father, The Son and The Holy Ghost. 1 Kings 17:10-16; Matthew 11:28-30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you given all to Jesus Christ? If you haven't, do so today and he will surprise you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31586499-115376254795609631?l=myownlibrary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/feeds/115376254795609631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31586499&amp;postID=115376254795609631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115376254795609631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31586499/posts/default/115376254795609631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myownlibrary.blogspot.com/2006/07/unemployed-graduate.html' title='An Unemployed Graduate'/><author><name>dawnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09465667218517087432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1429/2270/200/hamilton%20086.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
