Let it GO

A story tells of a merchant in a small town who had identical twin sons. The boys worked for their father in the department store he owned and, when he died, they took over the store.  Everything went well until the day a dollar bill disappeared. One of the brothers had left the bill on the cash register and walked outside with a customer. When he returned, the money was gone.  He asked his brother, "Did you see that dollar bill on the cash register?" His brother replied that he had not.  But the young man kept probing and questioning. He would not let it alone. "Dollar bills just don't get up and walk away! Surely you must have seen it!"

There was subtle accusation in his voice. Tempers began to rise. Resentment set in. Before long, a deep and bitter chasm divided the young men. They refused to speak. They finally decided they could no longer work together and a dividing wall was built down the center of the store. For twenty years hostility and bitterness grew, spreading to their families and to the community.  Then one day a man in an automobile licensed in another state stopped in front of the store. He walked in and asked the clerk, "How long have you been here?"  The clerk replied that he'd been there all his life. The customer said, "I must share something with you. Twenty years ago I was "riding the rails" and came into this town in a boxcar. I hadn't eaten for three days. I came into this store from the back door and saw a dollar bill on the cash register. I put it in my pocket and walked out. All these years I haven't been able to forget that. I know it wasn't much money, but I had to come back and ask your forgiveness."  The stranger was amazed to see tears well up in the eyes of this middle-aged man. "Would you please go next door and tell that same story to the man in the store?" he said. Then the man was even more amazed to see two middle-aged men, who looked very much alike, embracing each other and weeping together in the front of the store. After twenty years, the brokenness was mended. The wall of resentment that divided them came down.  It is so often the little things that finally divide people- words spoken in haste; criticisms; accusations; resentments. And once divided, they may never come together again.  The solution, of course, is to let it go. There is really nothing particularly profound about learning to let go of little resentments. But for fulfilling and lasting relationships, letting them go is a must. Refuse to carry around bitterness and you may be surprised at how much energy you have left for building bonds with those you love.

Sound for smell

Old Abraham was a poor tailor whose shop was next door to a very upscale French restaurant. 

Every day at lunch time, Abraham would go out the back of his shop and eat his black bread and herring while smelling the wonderful odors coming from the restaurant's kitchen.

One day, Abraham was surprised to receive an invoice from the restaurant for "enjoyment of food." 
So he went to the restaurant to point out that he had not bought anything from them. 
The manager said, "You're enjoying our food, so you should pay us for it."

Abraham refused to pay and the restaurant sued him. 
At the hearing, the judge asked the restaurant manager to present his side of the case. 
The manager said, "Every day, this man comes and sits outside our kitchen and smells our food while eating his. It is clear that we are providing added value to his poor food and we deserve to be compensated for it."

The judge turned to Abraham and said, "What do you have to say to that?"

Abraham didn't say anything but stuck his hand in his pocket and rattled the few coins he had inside.

The judge asked him, "What is the meaning of that?"

Abraham replied, "I'm paying for the smell of his food with the sound of my money.

The Wisdom of Gandhi

One of my all time favourite heroes is Gandhi.
Perhaps one of the few who truly attained Nirvana.

When Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, better known as Gandhi, was studying law at the University College of London, there was a professor, whose last name was Peters, who felt animosity for Gandhi, and because Gandhi never lowered his head towards him, their "arguments" were very common.
One day, Mr. Peters was having lunch at the dining room of the University and Gandhi came along with his tray and sat next to the professor. 

The professor, in his arrogance, said, "Mr Gandhi: you do not understand... a pig and a bird do not sit together to eat ".

Gandhi replied, "You do not worry professor, I'll fly away ", and he went and sat at another table.

Mr. Peters, green of rage, decided to take revenge on the next test, but Gandhi responded brilliantly to all questions.

Then, Mr. Peters asked him, "Mr Gandhi, if you are walking down the street and find a package, and within it there is a bag of wisdom and another bag with a lot of money; which one will you take?"

Without hesitating, Gandhi responded, "the one with the money, of course".

Mr. Peters, smiling, said, "I, in your place, would have taken the wisdom.

"Each one takes what one doesn't have", responded Gandhi indifferently.

Mr. Peters, already hysteric, wrote on the exam sheet the word "idiot" and gave it to Gandhi.

Gandhii took the exam sheet and sat down. 

A few minutes later, he went goes to the professor and said, "Mr. Peters, you signed the sheet, but you did not give me the grade."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mahatma_Gandhi

Look deeper

By Bob Perks

There is an old story attributed to Hindu beliefs that there was a time when all men on earth were Gods.

Over time man had sinned and destroyed the right to that Divine Heritage.

The God of all Gods, decided to remove the "God-Head" from man. God decided to hide it from all mankind but could not find a good place to put it so that man could never again find it. 

"Bury it down deep in the ground!" was one suggestion.

God said, "No, man will find it while digging for gold, silver and other precious metals."

"Place it in the deepest part of the ocean," was another suggestion.

God said, "No, man will one day search the oceans and find it."

Finally, God decided to "hide it down deep within man itself for man will never think to find it within himself."

And so it is, my friend. All that you need in life has already been given to you.

Jesus was once asked when the kingdom of God would come.

The kingdom of God, Jesus replied, is not something people will be able to see and point to. Then came these striking words: "Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you." (Luke 17:21)

God did not create you and set you here upon the earth to wander around without purpose. God created you with a mind to think, a heart to love, hands to build, feet to carry you to where you are to go, dreams to be fulfilled and work to be done to glorify His Name.

Some will be grand and great accomplishments by world standards. Most will be simple tasks but with great and everlasting purpose as decided by God.

If you are unable to tap into the power and strength of God's promise this message is one to help you connect.

This fulfills my mission to share with you these two words today.
"Look Deeper."

"I believe in you!"
Bob

A Long Walk

A Long Walk
In a remote village in Central America the word got out among the peoples of the region that one of the American missionaries that had served this country for many years was about to return to the US to live our the remaining years of her life.

The nationals desired to honor her for her years of service with a public time of appreciation. News of the event went to all parts of the country in which the missionary was known to the people. One very old and very poor man walked to the ceremony over mountainous terrain for 4 days to bring his gift to the missionary.

The gift consisted of 2 coconuts, but it was all the man had. The missionary recognized the man as coming from the remote village in the mountains.

"Brother, I cannot believe that you would walk so far to present me with this gift," said the missionary to the man.

His response?

"Long walk part of gift."

Just stay

A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside.

"Your son is here," she said to the old man.

She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened. Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile. He refused. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients.

Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died. The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he waited. Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.

"Who was that man?" he asked.

The nurse was startled, "He was your father," she answered.

"No, he wasn't," the Marine replied. "I never saw him before in my life."

"Then why didn't you say something when I took you to him?"

"I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell who was there or not, I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed. "

"I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey. His son was killed in Iraq today, and I was sent to inform him. What was this gentleman's name?"

The nurse replied, with tears in her eyes, , "that was Mr. William Grey."

The next time someone needs you ... just be there. 

Stay

Gurchan Singh-The Lion of Malaya

I think that it's vital our children learn more of these historical stories. Not only will it inculcate a sense of patriotism, but it will also encourage multi-culturalism. I sense that these stories were not included in history books for certain reasons, but it's even more imperative we keep them alive and recount them.

Gurchan Singh-The Lion of Malaya

Leslie Andres@www.nst.com.my

UNLIKELY HERO: The cop silently waged a battle against the Japanese during World War 2

EXACTLY 71 years ago yesterday, Malaya was invaded by the Japanese Imperial Army. It didn't take them long to travel from the northern reaches of the Peninsula to Singapore, where the remnants of the Allied forces eventually surrendered on February 15, 1942.

Thousands were killed fighting the Japanese Imperial Army, and once the attack was complete, many also lost their lives in the more than three-year Occupation.

But the war was far from over in Malaya. Members of the Allied forces remained behind to sabotage the Japanese occupiers, and they were joined by rebel groups such as the Malayan People's Anti-Japanese Army.

Then, too, there were civilians who took part in acts of sabotage or even mere defiance, many of whose deeds or names will never be known .One such person, whose name will likely not be known among the younger generation, especially, is Gurchan Singh, nicknamed the Lion of Malaya.

Gurchan was a policeman before the war and was in charge of Japanese nationals who were interned here. His fair treatment of them proved to be useful during the Occupation as he was considered above suspicion by the Kempetai, the dreaded Japanese military police.

Outwardly friendly to the Japanese, Gurchan was actually dead against the Occupation. Together with his brothers, Gurchan began a secret organisation printing communiques with war news from around the world. It proved to be invaluable as the people were not allowed to listen to foreign news stations and Japanese news was filled with mere propaganda.

The communiques were signed Singa -- hence the nickname, which was also a play against the moniker Tiger of Malaya, given to General Tomoyuki Yamashita, the man who came up with the plans for the invasion of Malaya -- and created a sensation among the information-starved and depressed people.

Gurchan built up a nationwide network of agents as Singa, none of whom knew that it was he and his brothers who were coming up with the daily communiques.

They believed him to be a mere agent of British spies operating in the jungles, though perhaps some began to suspect something later on.In fact, the Kempetai believed the Singa communiques to be the work of Chinese gangs working hand-in-glove with British spies operating in the jungles.

At least one of Singa's agents was executed by the Japanese after he was caught with communiques, but he protected Gurchan by not revealing that it was the former policeman who was passing him the communiques. Several others were also tortured but kept mum and were later released.

Towards the end of Singa's "reign", Gurchan came up with two communiques which predicted bombings in Kuala Lumpur. They were meant merely to get people to stay away from work to disrupt the Japanese administration, but providence led to British bombers actually unloading their ordnance where Gurchan predicted they would fall.

Gurchan and his brothers did more than just produce the communiques, however. They also carried out acts of sabotage, cutting telecommunication lines and even attacking Japanese soldiers with grenades. Gurchan also recruited agents such as John Sandasamy, who helped sabotage trains, causing an untold amount of damage and delay in the transportation of war materials to Burma, where the warfront was at the time.

Inevitably, however, Singa's run came to an end. One of his agents revealed to the Kempetai the name of the person who had been passing him the communiques. Gurchan, however, managed to escape when the Kempetai came to arrest him at his Lake Gardens house, took off his turban, cut his hair, shaved off his beard and eventually joined the infamous Death Railway workforce under an assumed name.

Gurchan and several agents had planned to cross the battle lines into Allied-held territory in Burma, but the war ended before they could do so. On his return to Kuala Lumpur, he resumed his career in the Police force and ended up the principal security officer and bodyguard of Tunku Abdul Rahman. He died in an accident in Johor in 1965 while on official business for the then Prime Minister.

Gurchan was famous during his time, and he was one of the people read about in a textbook named Heroes of Malaya, widely used in schools in the 1950s. Yet his name, like so many of the heroes our country has produced over the years, has faded now.

The younger generation, and those who have yet to come, need to be reminded of these heroes. They need to know about those whose sacrifices made us the nation we are today, without whom what we enjoy now would never have come about.

For love you are never too old!

I always have believed that there is someone for everyone. When my mom passed away, my dad was lucky enough to find another soulmate.
When my brother got divorced, he was so pessimistic he wouldn't find anyone ever again.
This story by Bob Perks will tell you different.

Maybe I was out of line. But I had to tell her how beautiful she was.

I just returned from my favorite breakfast restaurant.  I'm not permitted to eat stuff like this, but I do.  In fact my favorite meal in all the world is a full turkey dinner.  I don't just wait for holidays.  We had it last Sunday.  After eating to my capacity, I said to Marianne, "I hope when I die I don't die longing for one more turkey dinner.  I hope I just had my fill."

So it is with breakfast.  Home fries, scrambled eggs, bacon or ham and of course whole wheat toast for my arteries is my favorite.  I was craving for it today and it got the better of me.

As I pulled into the parking lot I saw this beautiful older woman standing there in front of her car.  She was like a picture right out of a fashion magazine.  She had wonderful short curly hair.  She wore a long brown plaid skirt that came down below her calves.  A soft, short white collar, perhaps a mock turtleneck, shown above a marvelous tan sweater that was accented with a thread of gold glitter throughout.  She had on white stockings and brown loafers.  Her matching brown leather bag sat on the ground next to where she was standing.

She was looking around obviously waiting for someone.  Her glance my way, as I pulled in, showed disappointment on her face.  I wasn't the one she was waiting for.

The sunshine and bright blue sky added to the perfect picture.  As always I struggled with my instinct that was telling me to say something to her.  I was particularly concerned because I was in an old T-shirt and jeans.  I didn't want her to think I was making advances.  Unfortunately in this day one needs to be careful about kindness.  I would be most likely a phone call away from a policeman if she mistook my intentions.

But when this particular Voice tells me to do something, I believe It will also take care of the details.  I was right.

"Pardon me.  Don't think wrongly of me.  But I must say you are a vision of beauty on such a beautiful day!" I said and then swallowed hard.

"Well, thank you sir.  I must say no one ever told me that before. "

"I can't believe that," I said. "Who ever you are waiting for is one lucky person."

"No, I am the lucky one," she said.  "I am lucky to have him back in my life."

I didn't ask anything about him.  Oh, I wanted to.  But I had already stuck my nose in where it didn't belong.  I didn't want to have my head cut off.

So I entered the restaurant.  "Linda, can I have a seat toward the back.  I wanted to watch for someone," I told my friend.

"Are you expecting someone?" she asked.

"No.  But she is," I said just as the door opened and the two of them walked in.

"Oh.  People watching again are we?" Linda replied.

"Don't I always?" I said.

They were seated about four tables up from me.  Too far to eaves drop on all the details but close enough to see their actions.

You don't have to hear people in love.  You can see people in love.

He was a perfect match for her.  I mean he dressed like the male model that would appear in that same fashion ad she could be in.  He had on a soft multi color sweater of dark blues, maroon, gray and a touch of red.  His navy blue corduroy pants and dark shoes gave him a sophisticated look.  His hair was salt and pepper and slightly long for a man his age.

It wasn't five minutes into their meeting when he had reached across the table and caressed her hand.  She was still reading the menu and it caught her off guard.  Shaken, but like a young girl who just touched the heart throb she has always dreamed of, she responded with a smile.

I was pleased to be a witness to all of this.  It gave me hope for love in my years ahead.

Then, suddenly I saw her pointing toward me.  I panicked.  My heart started beating faster.  I could imagine her saying, "There he is, that masher.  He's the guy who hit on me.  Go beat him up!"

He approached my table, stopped dead in front of me and said, "Mary tells me you made her day."

"I aaaahhhhh," I snapped back in defense of myself.  My quick wit was never good in situations like this.

"Thank you.  When you compliment her, you compliment me.   I've been in love with her since high school.  But life took us in different directions. Now, life has gone full circle.  Today is the first time we have seen each other in 45 years," he said.

"Excellent!" I replied still cautious of the outcome.

"We both were worried about what we looked like after all this time. She looks great.  This is a new look for me.  I call it my anti-aging outfit.  Looks much younger than I am," he said.

"You both did a great job.  I'm happy for you.  You give me hope," I said.

He returned to her, grabbing her hand as he sat down, next to her this time.

No, I didn't pick up their check.  You know I like to do that.

Blame it on the Voice inside me.  He said, "Let him be the big shot.  The last time he bought her a meal it was fries and a malted."

And so young lovers whoever you are,
know what the future may hold.
Even if time has taken it's toll,
For love you are never too old.

"I believe in you!"
Bob

The blessing of thorns

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze. Then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole her ease.

During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren't enough, her husband's company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose annual holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come.

What's worse, Sandra's friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer. "She has no idea what I'm feeling," thought Sandra with a shudder.

"Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?" she wondered aloud. For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?

"Good afternoon, can I help you?" The shop clerk's approach startled her.

"I...I need an arrangement," stammered Sandra, "for Thanksgiving?"

"Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the Thanksgiving Special?" asked the shop clerk. "I'm convinced that flowers tell stories," she continued. "Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude this Thanksgiving?

"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted out. "In the last five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. " Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the shop clerk said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you."

Then the door's small bell rang, and the shop clerk said, "Hi Barbara...let me get your order." She politely excused herself and walked toward a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses.

Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped...there were no flowers.

"Want this in a box?" asked the clerk.

Sandra watched for the customer's response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems with no flowers!?! She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed.

"Yes, please." Barbara replied with an appreciative smile.

"You'd think after three years of getting the special, I wouldn't be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over again," she said as she gently tapped her chest.

"Uh," stammered Sandra, "that lady just left with, uh... she just left with no flowers!"

"Right...I cut off the flowers. That's the Special... I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet.

"Oh, come on, you can't tell me someone is willing to pay for that?" exclaimed Sandra.

"Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling very much like you feel today," explained the clerk. "She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she was facing major surgery."

"That same year I had lost my husband, "continued the clerk," and for the first time in my life, I had to spend the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel.

"So what did you do?" asked Sandra. "I learned to be thankful for thorns," answered the clerk quietly. "I've always thanked God for good things in life and never thought to ask Him why those good things happened to me, but when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It took time for me to learn that dark times are important. I always enjoyed the 'flowers' of life, but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God's comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort others."

Sandra sucked in her breath as she thought about the very thing her friend had tried to tell her. "I guess the truth is I don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God."

Just then someone else walked in the shop.

"Hey, Phil!" shouted the clerk to the balding, rotund man.

"My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving arrangement... twelve thorny, long-stemmed stems!" laughed Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.

"Those are for your wife?" asked Sandra incredulously. "Do you mind me asking why she wants something that looks like that?

"No...I'm glad you asked," Phil replied. "Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but with the Lord's grace and guidance, we slogged through problem after problem. He rescued our marriage. Jenny here (the clerk) told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she learned from "thorny" times, and that was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific "problem" and give thanks to Him for what that problem taught us."

As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!"

"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life." Sandra said to the clerk. "It's all too... fresh."

"Well," the clerk replied carefully, "my experience has shown me that thorns make roses more precious. We treasure God's providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, it was a crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don't resent the thorns."

Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on resentment. "I'll take those twelve long-stemmed thorns, please," she managed to choke out.

"I hoped you would," said the clerk gently. "I'll have them ready in a minute."

"Thank you. What do I owe you?" asked Sandra.

"Nothing." said the clerk. "Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me." The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you'd like to read it first."

It read: "Dear God, I have never thanked you for my thorns. I have thanked you a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to you along the path of pain. Show me that, through my tears, the colors of your rainbow look much more brilliant."