I am a 61 year old, father of two boys and have been happily married for 33 years. I have been a Physical Education teacher and coach for 38 years and have loved EVERY minute of it. I enjoy making people laugh and feel good about themselves. It’s fun collecting inspiring and heartwarming stories.from people. So, if you have a good story…let me know! I hope you enjoy my page!! :)
Remember:
Everyone is fighting a battle that you know nothing about.
Be kind.
Always.
Photo Credit: California National Guard via Flickr
The following story is an awesome tale, (that I found on academictips.org) of a deep and unconditional love that a person had for their friend. It demonstrates in a heart-touching way, how out love for our partners should ALWAYS be. Through an unfortunate circumstance, this individual never changed their mind about how much they loved their friend…
One day, a young guy and a young girl fell in love.
But the guy came from a poor family. The girl’s parents weren’t too happy.
So the young man decided not only to court the girl but to court her parents as well. In time, the parents saw that he was a good man and was worthy of their daughter’s hand.
But there was another problem: The man was a soldier. Soon, war broke out and he was being sent overseas for a year. The week before he left, the man knelt on his knee and asked his lady love, “Will you marry me?” She wiped a tear, said yes, and they were engaged. They agreed that when he got back in one year, they would get married.
But tragedy struck. A few days after he left, the girl had a major vehicular accident. It was a head-on collision.
When she woke up in the hospital, she saw her father and mother crying. Immediately, she knew there was something wrong.
She later found out that she suffered brain injury. The part of her brain that controlled her face muscles was damaged. Her once lovely face was now disfigured. She cried as she saw herself in the mirror. “Yesterday, I was beautiful. Today, I’m a monster.” Her body was also covered with so many ugly wounds.
Right there and then, she decided to release her fiancé from their promise. She knew he wouldn’t want her anymore. She would forget about him and never see him again.
For one year, the soldier wrote many letters—but she wouldn’t answer. He phoned her many times but she wouldn’t return her calls.
But after one year, the mother walked into her room and announced, “He’s back from the war.”
The girl shouted, “No! Please don’t tell him about me. Don’t tell him I’m here!”
The mother said, “He’s getting married,” and handed her a wedding invitation.
The girl’s heart sank. She knew she still loved him—but she had to forget him now.
With great sadness, she opened the wedding invitation.
And then she saw her name on it!
Confused, she asked, “What is this?”
That was when the young man entered her room with a bouquet of flowers. He knelt beside her and asked, “Will you marry me?”
The girl covered her face with her hands and said, “I’m ugly!”
The man said, “Without your permission, your mother sent me your photos. When I saw your photos, I realized that nothing has changed. You’re still the person I fell in love. You’re still as beautiful as ever. Because…I love you!”
How much better would our world and families be if we all had a spirit and co
My blog has now surpassed 5,000 visitors! Thanks everyone…I am looking forward to (HOPEFULLY) having 5,000 more people visit my page in the coming weeks. 🙂
“Now I see why powerful people often wear sunglasses – the spotlight blinds them to reality. They suffer from a delusion that power means something (it doesn’t). They suffer from the misconception that titles make a difference (they don’t). They are under the impression that earthly authority will make a heavenly difference (it won’t).
Can I prove my point? Take this quiz.
Name the ten wealthiest people in the world.
Name the last ten Heisman trophy winners.
Name the last ten winners of the Miss America contest.
Name eight people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer prize.
How about the last ten Academy Award winners for best picture or the last decade’s worth of World Series winners?
How did you do? I didn’t do well either. With the exception of you trivia hounds, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday too well.
Surprising how quickly we forget, isn’t it? And what I’ve mentioned above are no second-rate achievements. These are the best in their fields. But the applause dies. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgotten. Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.
Here’s another quiz. See how you do on this one:
Think of three people you enjoy spending time with.
Name ten people who have taught you something worthwhile.
Name five friends who have helped you in a difficult time.
List a few teachers who have aided your journey through school.
Name half-a-dozen heroes whose stories have inspired you.
Easier? It was for me, too. The lesson? The people who make a difference are not the ones with the credentials, but the ones with the concern and love for you.”
I am deeply touched and honored that I was nominated for the
Fanatabulous and Awesome Blossom Awards.
I was nominated for these awards by my dear friend Melanie Jean Juneau, author of the “motherofnine9” Word Press blog page.
Awards are nice – they are the equivalent of Girl’s Night Out or a Night with the Guys where you complement each other, share juicy tidbits about yourself and then inform the group of what amazing find you came across last week.
However, for a variety of reasons there are those who choose not to accept or pass on awards. For those who like the idea of having an award or two on their site, but aren’t up to the work involved or feel like they’ll somehow betray those they follow by narrowing a list down to just 10 – here’s two awards you are welcome to put on your site if I’ve followed you, Liked one of your posts or left a comment that included the link to this page.
You are also free to bestow these no-strings attached Awardsto others as you see fit – these images are free to use as long as you and others don’t pretend they are your own. If you wish to link back here, Fantabulous – but not required.
These will be mounted on my side column with pride and with joy. Melanie and I extend the invitation to you to do the same!
English: Picture of Ten Boom Museum on the Barteljoristraat in Haarlem, the Netherlands. The house is a watch shop and museum dedicated to the memory of Corrie ten Boom and her family, who harbored war refugees during World War II. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
During the Second World War, Corrie Ten Boom and her family showed great courage in helping to rescue Jewish people from the Nazis. Corrie’s involvement with the Dutch underground began with her acts of kindness in giving temporary shelter to her Jewish neighbors who were being driven out of their homes. Soon the word spread, and more and more people came to her home for shelter. As quickly as she would find places for them, more would arrive. She had a false wall constructed in her bedroom behind which people could hide.
After a year and a half, her home developed into the center of an underground ring that reached throughout Holland. Daily, dozens of reports, appeals, and people came in and out of their watch shop. She wondered how long this much activity and the seven Jews that they were hiding would remain a secret.
On February 28, 1944, while Corrie was 48 years old, a man came into the shop and asked Corrie to help him. He stated that he and his wife had been hiding Jews and that she had been arrested. He needed six hundred gilders to bribe a policeman for her freedom. Corrie promised to help. She found out later that he was an informant that had worked with the Nazis from the first day of the occupation. He turned their family in to the Gestapo. Later that day, her home was raided, and Corrie and her family were arrested (their Jewish visitors made it to the secret room in time and later were able to escape to new quarters). Her father died 10 days later from a sickness.
They were arrested and imprisoned by the Germans. Corrie and her sister were sent to Ravensbruck concentration camp, where her sister died just before the end of the war in 1945. The rest of her family was never seen again. She spent the rest of her long life spreading the news of God’s forgiveness.
Here is a story of forgiveness, that she once shared. I still think it would have been almost impossible for me to ever have done…
—————————
~A Guidepost article from 1972 relates a short story titled “I’m Still Learning to Forgive“ (Corrie TenBoom) ~
“It was in a church in Munich that I saw him, a balding heavy-set man in a gray overcoat, a brown felt hat clutched between his hands. People were filing out of the basement room where I had just spoken. It was 1947 and I had come from Holland to defeated Germany with the message that God forgives. …
And that’s when I saw him, working his way forward against the others. One moment I saw the overcoat and the brown hat; the next, a blue uniform and a visored cap with its skull and crossbones. It came back with a rush: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights, the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor, the shame of walking naked past this man. I could see my sister’s frail form ahead of me, ribs sharp beneath the parchment skin. Betsie, how thin you were!
Betsie and I had been arrested for concealing Jews in our home during the Nazi occupation of Holland; this man had been a guard at Ravensbruck concentration camp where we were sent. …
“You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk,” he was saying. “I was a guard in there.” No, he did not remember me.
“I had to do it — I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us.” “But since that time,” he went on, “I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well. Fraulein, …” his hand came out, … “will you forgive me?”
And I stood there — I whose sins had every day to be forgiven — and could not. Betsie had died in that place — could he erase her slow terrible death simply for the asking?
It could not have been many seconds that he stood there, hand held out, but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do.
For I had to do it — I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us. “If you do not forgive men their trespasses,” Jesus says, “neither will your Father in heaven forgive your trespasses.” …
And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an emotion — I knew that too. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart. “Jesus, help me!” I prayed silently. “I can lift my hand, I can do that much. You supply the feeling.”
And so, woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes.
“I forgive you, brother!” I cried. “With all my heart!”
For a long moment we grasped each others’ hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely as I did then.”
—————————–
Have you ever been hurt by someone and angry at them? How willing have you been to forgive them? Imagine the hurt and hate that Corrie had and how hard it must have been for her to forgive this man. Let’s use this story as an example of how we can forgive others, even though it may be very difficult, and make ourselves better people because of it.
Here’s a little taste of eight-year old reasoning. This is a reality check to balance all those manipulative commercials and sentimental Mother’s Day cards that are flooding the market place.
Warning: The following true comments are not politically correct. So simply laugh and enjoy!
Answers given by grade two school children to the following questions:
What kind of a little girl was your mom?
1. My mum has always been my mum and none of that other stuff.
2. I don’t know because I wasn’t there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.
If you could change one thing about your mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I’d get rid of that.
2. I’d make my mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.
What would it take to make your mom perfect?
1. On the inside she’s already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I’d diet, maybe blue.
Why did God make mothers ?
1. She’s the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.
How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.
What ingredients are mothers made of?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men’s bones. Then they mostly use string, I think
Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom?
1. We’re related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people’s mom like me.
What did mum need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?
Why did your mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that mom didn’t have her thinking cap on.
Who’s the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn’t want to be boss, but she has to because dad’s such a goof ball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.
What’s the difference between moms and dads?
1. Moms work at work and work at home and dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller and stronger, but Moms have all the real power ‘cause that’s who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friends.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.
What does your mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don’t do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long
‘Twas about 12 years ago that a true angel left us and went back to where she belonged…with the Lord in heaven. I am SO thankful that I was blessed with such a wonderful, loving mom. She was a big reason that I am the man I am today. I miss her every single day. Happy Mother’s Day mom…say “Hi” to Pop for me
This is for all the mothers who DIDN’T win Mother of the Year last year, all the runners-up and all the wannabes. Including the mothers too tired to enter or too busy to care.
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games on Friday night, instead of watching from cars. So that when their kids asked, “Did you see my goal?” They could say, “Of course, wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, “It’s OK honey, Mommy’s here.”
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they’ll never see, and the mothers who took those babies and made them homes.
This is for all the mothers of the victims of school shootings, and the mothers of the murderers. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes, and all the mothers who DON’T.
What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?
Is it the ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it heart?
Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
Is it the jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, as you bound from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
Is it the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, or a baby dying?
I think so.
So this is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies, and for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn’t.
This is for reading “Goodnight, Moon” twice a night for a year. And then reading it again. “Just one more time.”
This is for all the mothers who mess up. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired 2 year old who wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who bite their lips-sometimes until they bleed-when their 14 year olds dye their hair green. Who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won’t stop.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls “Mom?” in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.
This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their children’s graves.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can’t find the words to reach them.
This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomachaches, assuring them they’d be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse and hour later asking them to please pick them up, right away.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation, and mature mothers learning to let go.
This is for working mothers and stay-at-home mothers, single mothers and married mothers, mothers with money, and mothers without.
This is for you all. So hang in there! We love you!
My Good Time Stories 