Guest guest Posted May 21, 2001 Report Share Posted May 21, 2001 > I think this will touch you . > > I ran into a stranger as he passed by. " Oh excuse me please " was my reply. > > He said, " Please excuse me too; I wasn't watching for you. " . > > We were very polite, this stranger and I. We went on our way and we said > Good-bye. > > But at home a different story is told, how we treat our loved ones, young > and old. Later that day, cooking the evening meal, my son stood > beside me very still. When I turned, I nearly knocked him down. " Move out > of > the way, " I said with a frown " . He walked away, his little heart broken. I > > didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken. While I lay awake in bed, God's > still > small voice came to me and said, " While dealing with a stranger, common > courtesy you use, but the children you love, you seem to abuse. Go look on > > the kitchen floor, you'll find some flowers there by the door. " . Those > are > the flowers he brought for you. He picked them himself; pink yellow and > blue. He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise, and you never saw > the tears that filled his little eyes. " By this time, I felt very small, > and now my tears began to fall. I quietly went and knelt by his bed; " Wake > > up, little one, wake up, " said. " Are these the flowers you picked for me? " > > He smiled, " I found 'em out by the tree. " I picked 'em because they're > pretty like you. I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue. " I said, > " Son, > I'm very sorry for the way I acted today; I shouldn't have yelled at you > that way. " > > He said, " Oh, Mom, that's okay. I love you anyway. " I said, " Son, I love > you > too, and I do like the flowers, especially the blue. " > > > Are you aware that if we died tomorrow, the company that we are working > for > could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family we left > behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives.And come to think of > > it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our own family, an unwise > investment indeed, don't you think? > > So what is behind the story? Do you know what the word FAMILY > means? > FAMILY = (F)ATHER (A)ND (M)OTHER, (I), (L)OVE, (Y)OU > > Pass this on to everyone that you care about. I just did. > > > > > > ___ > Chat with your friends as soon as they come online. Get Rediff Bol at > http://bol.rediff.com > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted May 22, 2001 Report Share Posted May 22, 2001 Dear Venkatraman Touching story had really touched me,thanks for your contribution to the group. sk , venkatraman <venkatraman@s...> wrote: > > > > > I think this will touch you . > > > > I ran into a stranger as he passed by. " Oh excuse me please " was my reply. > > > > He said, " Please excuse me too; I wasn't watching for you. " . > > > > We were very polite, this stranger and I. We went on our way and we said > > Good-bye. > > > > But at home a different story is told, how we treat our loved ones, young > > and old. Later that day, cooking the evening meal, my son stood > > beside me very still. When I turned, I nearly knocked him down. " Move out > > of > > the way, " I said with a frown " . He walked away, his little heart broken. I > > > > didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken. While I lay awake in bed, God's > > still > > small voice came to me and said, " While dealing with a stranger, common > > courtesy you use, but the children you love, you seem to abuse. Go look on > > > > the kitchen floor, you'll find some flowers there by the door. " . Those > > are > > the flowers he brought for you. He picked them himself; pink yellow and > > blue. He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise, and you never saw > > the tears that filled his little eyes. " By this time, I felt very small, > > and now my tears began to fall. I quietly went and knelt by his bed; " Wake > > > > up, little one, wake up, " said. " Are these the flowers you picked for me? " > > > > He smiled, " I found 'em out by the tree. " I picked 'em because they're > > pretty like you. I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue. " I said, > > " Son, > > I'm very sorry for the way I acted today; I shouldn't have yelled at you > > that way. " > > > > He said, " Oh, Mom, that's okay. I love you anyway. " I said, " Son, I love > > you > > too, and I do like the flowers, especially the blue. " > > > > > > Are you aware that if we died tomorrow, the company that we are working > > for > > could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family we left > > behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives.And come to think of > > > > it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our own family, an unwise > > investment indeed, don't you think? > > > > So what is behind the story? Do you know what the word FAMILY > > means? > > FAMILY = (F)ATHER (A)ND (M)OTHER, (I), (L)OVE, (Y)OU > > > > Pass this on to everyone that you care about. I just did. > > > > > > > > > > > > ___ > > Chat with your friends as soon as they come online. Get Rediff Bol at > > http://bol.rediff.com > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted August 6, 2001 Report Share Posted August 6, 2001 > Tell me if this little story didn't touch you.... > [VENKATRAMAN] SSI LTD. > THE WINDOW.... > > > 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. 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. > > 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. The window overlooked a park with a > lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children > sailed in their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst > flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the > landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the > distance. > > 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. One warm afternoon the man by the window described > a parade passing by. 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. Days and weeks passed. 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. 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. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself > up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. > Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained > to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. He was > shocked... 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. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not > even see the wall. She said, " Perhaps he just wanted to encourage > you. " > > Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, > despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but > happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just > count all the things you have that money can't buy. > " Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present. " > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted July 10, 2003 Report Share Posted July 10, 2003 Hi Mahesh and all , Thanks for the mail . sorry for delay in response Now days i was kept busy by the office works and another things i am very happy now days ( So no lateral thinking like dead person ... .. etc etc etc ). Things are going well and my mind is with full confidenet now. I am also planning for a vacation after this tight schedule. TO ALL The GRP Members : --------------------------- Eventhough i did not respond, i am seeing all the mails . Thanks vidya mami ( Thanks for sending the daily speeches ) , Krish ( sify Thanks for the latest update in sify tamil section ) , Sriram ( thanks for your response to my mail ), mahesh , vinodhini ( i am expecting intresting forwarded mails/humours from u) , ncsangeetha ( i will surely hit that page requested by you ) hemamalini ( thanks for your greetings ) , ganesh ( Congratulations for your marriage Then when is the marriage treat !! ), Praveena ( no participation from you for quite some time ) Madhu , usha, naresh , Sindhu ( I paryed god for the speedy recovery of your friend) ( Forgive me if i missed any one , i really have very very poor memory ) for sharing the information and keeping the group active I belive this mail will find each one of you in good health and harmony Do mail us often. Thanks & Best wishes to u all With lotz of love, Kamal. -- --- " The world has no existence whatsoever outside the human imagination " - Robert M Pirsig " Small Aim is a crime " - Abdul Kalam --- On Thu, 10 Jul 2003 Sangeethaa N C wrote : >Shankaram Siva Shankaram !! >Three Marbles >During the waning years of the depression in a small southeastern >Idaho >community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for >farm-fresh >produce as the season made it available. Food and money were >still >extremely scarce and bartering was used, extensively. One >particular day >Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a >small boy, >delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily >appraising a >basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but >was also >drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for >creamed peas >and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing >the >conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me. > " Hello Barry, how are you today? " > " H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank 'ya. Jus' admirin' them peas >...sure look >good. " > " They are good, Barry. How's your Ma? " > " Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time. " > " Good. Anything I can help you with? " " No, Sir. Jus' admirin' >them peas. " > " Would you like to take some home? " > " No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with. " > " Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas? " > " All I got's my prize marble here. " >Is that right? Let me see it. " > " Here 'tis. She's a dandy. " > " I can see that. Hmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort >of go for >red. Do you have a red one like this at home? " > " Not 'zackley .... but, almost. " > " Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next >trip this way >let me look at that red marble. " > " Sure will. Thanks, Mr. Miller. " >Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. >With a >smile she said: " There are two other boys like him in our >community, all >three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain >with them >for peas, apples, tomatoes or whatever. When they come back with >their red >marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red >after all and >he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or >an orange >one, perhaps. " >I left the stand, smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A >short time >later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this >man, the >boys and their bartering. Several years went by each more rapid >than the >previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old >friends in >that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. >Miller had >died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my >friends >wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon our arrival at >the mortuary >we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to >offer >whatever words of comfort we could. >Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army >uniform and the >other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... >very >professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing >smiling and >composed, by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged >her, kissed >her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the >casket. Her >misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young >man stopped >briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in >the casket. >Each left the mortuary, awkwardly, wiping his eyes. >Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and >mentioned the >story she had told me about the marbles. Eyes glistening she >took my hand >and led me to the casket. " Those three young men, who just left, >were the >boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated >the things >Jim " traded " them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his >mind about >color or size... they came to pay their debt. " We've never had a >great deal >of the wealth of this world, " she confided, " but, right now, Jim >would >consider himself the richest man in Idaho. " >With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her >deceased >husband. Resting underneath were three, magnificently shiny, red >marbles. >Moral: >We will not be remembered by our words -- but by our deeds. >Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments >that take >our breath, as we help others. > " . . . faith without works is dead " (James 2:20 NKJ) >The secret of life is to drift with the current, >smiling at everything that happens to you. >And then, like the log which the current takes ashore, >you too will be transported to The Shore. >**************************************************************************** >This communication contains information, which is confidential >and may also >be privileged. It is for the exclusive use of the intended >recipient(s). If >you are not the intended recipient(s), please note that any >distribution, >printing, copying or use of this communication or the information >in it is >strictly prohibited. If you have received this communication in >error, >please notify the sender immediately and then destroy any copies >of it. >**************************************************************************** > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 25, 2008 Report Share Posted September 25, 2008 My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?' I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened. Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.She has just turned eight. She particularly detested Curd Rice. My mother and my wife are orthodox, and believe firmly in the 'cooling effects' of Curd Rice! I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling,why don't you take a few mouthful of this Curd Rice?Just for Dad's sake, dear. Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. 'OK, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'...........Oh sure, darling'....'Promise?'................. 'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the deal. 'Ask Mom also to give a similar promise', my daughter insisted. My wife put her hand on Sindu's, muttering 'Promise'. Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindu dear, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items.Dad does not have that kind of money right now. OK?' 'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'.Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child eat something that she detested. After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation.All our attention was on her.............'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand. 'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!' 'Never in our family!' my mother rasped.'She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!' Sindu darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.' 'No, Dad. I do not want anything else', Sindu said with finality. 'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her. 'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for.Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra,and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?' It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.' 'Are you out your mind?' chorused my mother and wife. 'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.' With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful. On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom.She turned around and waved. I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!' What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought. 'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued,' That boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from... ... leukemia.' She paused to muffle her sobs. Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month.He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates.'Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue. But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son!Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.' I stood transfixed. And then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are teaching me how self-less real love is!' *The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own terms but are those who change their terms for the ones whom they love..* Love Touch And Inspire others " The life is short, the vanities of world are transient but they alone live who live for others; the rest are more dead than alive. " Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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