Beauty & Lifestyle

My mom only had one eye

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My mom only had one eye. I hated her… She was such an embarrassment. She cooked for students and teachers to support the family.<br />
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There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to say hello to me. I was so embarrassed.<br />
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How could she do this to me? I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and ran out. The next day at school one of my classmates said, “EEEE, your mom only has one eye!”<br />
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I wanted to bury myself. I also wanted my mom to just disappear. I confronted her that day and said, “If you’re only gonna make me a laughing stock, why don’t you just die?”<br />
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My mom did not respond… I didn’t even stop to think for a second about what I had said, because I was full of anger. I was oblivious to her feelings.<br />
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I wanted out of that house, and have nothing to do with her. So I studied real hard, got a chance to go abroad to study.<br />
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Then, I got married. I bought a house of my own. I had kids of my own. I was happy with my life, my kids and the comforts. Then one day, my Mother came to visit me. She hadn’t seen me in years and she didn’t even meet her grandchildren.<br />
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When she stood by the door, my children laughed at her, and I yelled at her for coming over uninvited. I screamed at her, “How dare you come to my house and scare my children! GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!!!”<br />
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And to this, my mother quietly answered, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address.” – and she disappeared out of sight.<br />
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One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house. So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip. After the reunion, I went to the old shack just out of curiosity.<br />
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My neighbors said that she died. I did not shed a single tear. They handed me a letter that she had wanted me to have.<br />
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“My dearest son,<br />
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I think of you all the time. I’m sorry that I came to your house and scared your children.<br />
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I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I may not be able to even get out of bed to see you. I’m sorry that I was a constant embarrassment to you when you were growing up.<br />
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You see……..when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost your eye. As a mother, I couldn’t stand watching you having to grow up with one eye. So I gave you mine.<br />
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I was so proud of my son who was seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye.<br />
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With all my love to you,<br />
<br />
Your mother.”<br />
<br />

My mom only had one eye

My mom only had one eye. I hated her… She was such an embarrassment. She cooked for students and teachers to support the family. There w...

Keep your dream

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I have a friend named Monty Roberts who owns a horse ranch in San Ysidro. He has let me use his house to put on fund-raising events to raise money for youth at risk programs.</div>
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The last time I was there he introduced me by saying, “I want to tell you why I let Jack use my horse. It all goes back to a story about a young man who was the son of an itinerant horse trainer who would go from stable to stable, race track to race track, farm to farm and ranch to ranch, training horses. As a result, the boy’s high school career was continually interrupted. When he was a senior, he was asked to write a paper about what he wanted to be and do when he grew up.</div>
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“That night he wrote a seven-page paper describing his goal of someday owning a horse ranch. He wrote about his dream in great detail and he even drew a diagram of a 200-acre ranch, showing the location of all the buildings, the stables and the track. Then he drew a detailed floor plan for a 4,000-square-foot house that would sit on a 200-acre dream ranch.</div>
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“He put a great deal of his heart into the project and the next day he handed it in to his teacher. Two days later he received his paper back. On the front page was a large red F with a note that read, `See me after class.’</div>
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“The boy with the dream went to see the teacher after class and asked, `Why did I receive an F?’</div>
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“The teacher said, `This is an unrealistic dream for a young boy like you. You have no money. You come from an itinerant family. You have no resources. Owning a horse ranch requires a lot of money. You have to buy the land. You have to pay for the original breeding stock and later you’ll have to pay large stud fees. There’s no way you could ever do it.’ Then the teacher added, `If you will rewrite this paper with a more realistic goal, I will reconsider your grade.’</div>
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“The boy went home and thought about it long and hard. He asked his father what he should do. His father said, `Look, son, you have to make up your own mind on this. However, I think it is a very important decision for you.’ “Finally, after sitting with it for a week, the boy turned in the same paper, making no changes at all.</div>
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He stated, “You can keep the F and I’ll keep my dream.”</div>
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Monty then turned to the assembled group and said, “I tell you this story because you are sitting in my 4,000-square-foot house in the middle of my 200-acre horse ranch. I still have that school paper framed over the fireplace.” He added, “The best part of the story is that two summers ago that same schoolteacher brought 30 kids to camp out on my ranch for a week.” When the teacher was leaving, he said, “Look, Monty, I can tell you this now. When I was your teacher, I was something of a dream stealer. During those years I stole a lot of kids’ dreams. Fortunately you had enough gumption not to give up on yours.”</div>
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“Don’t let anyone steal your dreams. Follow your heart, no matter what.”</div>
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Keep your dream

I have a friend named Monty Roberts who owns a horse ranch in San Ysidro. He has let me use his house to put on fund-raising events to ra...

Don’t Hope,… Decide!

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While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other people talk about — the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly. This one occurred a mere two feet away from me.<br />
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Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.<br />
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First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other’s face, I heard the father say, “It’s so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!” His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly, “Me, too, Dad!”<br />
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Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son’s face in his hands said, “You’re already quite the young man. I love you very much, Zach!” They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.<br />
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While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother’s arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said, “Hi, baby girl!” as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.<br />
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After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, “I’ve saved the best for last!” and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed. “I love you so much!” They stared at each other’s eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands.<br />
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For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn’t possibly be. I puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm’s length away from me. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, “Wow! How long have you two been married?<br />
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“Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those.” he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife’s face. “Well then, how long have you been away?” I asked. The man finally turned and looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile. “Two whole days!”<br />
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Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, I had assumed he’d been gone for at least several weeks – if not months. I know my expression betrayed me.<br />
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I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend), “I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!”<br />
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The man suddenly stopped smiling.<br />
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He looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person. He told me, “Don’t hope, friend… decide!” Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, “God bless!”<br />
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- By Michael D. Hargrove and Bottom Line Underwriters, Inc.

Don’t Hope,… Decide!

While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other peo...

A glass of Milk, paid in Full

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One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door.<br />
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Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk.<br />
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He drank it slowly, and then asked, “How much do I owe you?”<br />
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“You don’t owe me anything,” she replied. “Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness.”<br />
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He said, “Then I thank you from my heart.”<br />
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As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.<br />
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Year’s later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease.<br />
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Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.<br />
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Dressed in his doctor’s gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case.<br />
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After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room.<br />
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She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She began to read the following words:<br />
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“Paid in full with one glass of milk”<br />
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A glass of Milk, paid in Full

One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he wa...

The story of a blind girl

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There was a blind girl who hated herself just because she was blind. She hated everyone, except her loving boyfriend. He was always there for her. She said that if she could only see the world, she would marry her boyfriend.<br />
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One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her and then she could see everything, including her boyfriend. Her boyfriend asked her, “now that you can see the world, will you marry me?”<br />
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The girl was shocked when she saw that her boyfriend was blind too, and refused to marry him. Her boyfriend walked away in tears, and later wrote a letter to her saying:<br />
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“Just take care of my eyes dear.”<br />
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This is how human brain changes when the status changed. Only few remember what life was before, and who’s always been there even in the most painful situations.<br />
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Life Is A Gift<br />
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Today before you think of saying an unkind word–<br />
think of someone who can’t speak.<br />
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Before you complain about the taste of your food–<br />
think of someone who has nothing to eat.<br />
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Before you complain about your husband or wife–<br />
think of someone who is crying out to God for a companion.<br />
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Today before you complain about life–<br />
think of someone who went too early to heaven.<br />
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Before you complain about your children–<br />
think of someone who desires children but they’re barren.<br />
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Before you argue about your dirty house, someone didn’t clean or sweep–<br />
think of the people who are living in the streets.<br />
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Before whining about the distance you drive–<br />
think of someone who walks the same distance with their feet.<br />
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And when you are tired and complain about your job–<br />
think of the unemployed, the disabled and those who wished they had your job.<br />
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But before you think of pointing the finger or condemning another–<br />
remember that not one of us are without sin and we all answer to one maker.<br />
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And when depressing thoughts seem to get you down–<br />
put a smile on your face and thank God you’re alive and still around.<br />
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Life is a gift – Live it, Enjoy it, Celebrate it, and Fulfill it.<br />
<br />

The story of a blind girl

There was a blind girl who hated herself just because she was blind. She hated everyone, except her loving boyfriend. He was always there...

Hospital window

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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.<br />
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Although the other man couldn’t hear the band – he could see it. In his mind’s eye as the gentleman by th! e window portrayed it with descriptive words.<br />
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Days and weeks passed.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.<br />
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He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.<br />
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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<br />
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The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.<br />
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She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.”<br />
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Hospital 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 ...

The little boy

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Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?”<br />
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The surgeon said, “I’m sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn’t make it.”<br />
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Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer? Doesn’t God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?”<br />
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The surgeon asked, “Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he’s transported to the university.”<br />
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Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good-bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.<br />
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“Would you like a lock of his hair?” the nurse asked.<br />
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Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy’s hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally. The mother said, “It was Jimmy’s idea to donate his body to the university for study. He said it might help somebody else. “I said no at first, but Jimmy said, ‘Mom, I won’t be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.” She went on, “My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.”<br />
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Sally walked out of Children’s mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy’s belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy’s belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son’s room. She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.<br />
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It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:<br />
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“Dear Mom,<br />
<br />
I know you’re going to miss me; but don’t think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just ’cause I’m not around to say I LOVE YOU. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won’t be so lonely, that’s okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn’t like the same things us boys do. You’ll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don’t be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn’t look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God’s knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That’s when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good-bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn’t allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him ‘Where was He when I needed him?’ “God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.<br />
<br />
Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I’ve written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn’t that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I’m, sure the food will be great.<br />
<br />
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don’t hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I’m glad because I couldn’t stand that pain anymore and God couldn’t stand to see me hurt so much, either. That’s when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?<br />
<br />
Signed with Love from: God, Jesus & Me.”<br />
<br />

The little boy

Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all righ...

The last cab ride

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Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. One time I arrived in the middle of the night for a pick up at a building that was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.<br />
<br />
Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.<br />
<br />
“Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice.<br />
<br />
I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80′s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase.<br />
<br />
The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.<br />
<br />
“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.<br />
<br />
“It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”<br />
<br />
“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.<br />
<br />
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”<br />
<br />
I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.<br />
<br />
“I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”<br />
<br />
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.<br />
<br />
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.<br />
<br />
Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.<br />
<br />
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”<br />
<br />
We drove in silence to the address she had given me.<br />
<br />
It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.<br />
<br />
“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.<br />
<br />
“Nothing,” I said.<br />
<br />
“You have to make a living,” she answered.<br />
<br />
“There are other passengers.”<br />
<br />
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.<br />
<br />
“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”<br />
<br />
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.<br />
<br />
I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware—beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.<br />
<br />
A true story by Kent Nerburn

The last cab ride

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. One time I arrived in the middle of the night for a pick up at a building that was dark exce...