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Originally posted on this girl is free:

Your eyes open quickly. You glance around, confused for only a moment before you are able to adjust to the black of your room. Did you sleep past your alarm? No – you check your phone and your alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. You still have plenty of time. You think that if you get out of bed now, you might actually be able to look presentable. But try as you might, you can’t seem to move. The blankets weigh you down, your head feels heavy, and you have no desire to face the world.

If you don’t leave this warm bed, you won’t have to think about all the ways in which you failed yesterday and face the many ways you will fail today. You won’t have to speak to the people who consistently dig their claws into your soul and offer them a placating smile while pretending…

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Originally posted on Morning Story and Dilbert:

I love walking in the rain,
Listening to its pitter pat.
As it falls so softly,
Upon my old felt hat.

To smell the freshness in the air,
As is gently falls to earth,
Bringing freshness to everything,
And giving forth new birth.

As it causes seeds to sprout,
And everything to grow,
It washes off God’s pretty greens,
In winter, it is snow.

I love to walk out in the rain,
What peace comes to my soul.
It seems to wash away my cares,
As it falls to earth below.

By Al Albrecht, Home Spun Poems

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Originally posted on Morning Story and Dilbert:

Dilbert

An article in National Geographic several years ago provided a penetrating picture of God’s wings…

After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno’s damage. One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree.

Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother’s wings.

The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies.

When the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because she…

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morningstoryanddilbert:

At the end of the week I like to read over some of the older stories in the MS&D archive….. I found this one and had to share…. make sure you have a Kleenex!!! Take Care and God Bless :-) Kenny T

Originally posted on Morning Story and Dilbert:

Dilbert

The Board Meeting had come to an end. Bob started to stand up and jostled the table, spilling his coffee over his notes. “How embarrassing. I am getting so clumsy in my old age.”

Everyone had a good laugh, and soon we were all telling stories of our most embarrassing moments. It came around to Frank who sat quietly listening to the others. Someone said, “Come on, Frank. Tell us your most embarrassing moment.”

Frank laughed and began to tell us of his childhood. “I grew up in San Pedro. My Dad was a fisherman, and he loved the sea. He had his own boat, but it was hard making a living on the sea. He worked hard and would stay out until he caught enough to feed the family. Not just enough for our family, but also for his Mom and Dad and the other kids that were still…

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morningstoryanddilbert:

Reggie is one of my all-time favorite post on MS&D…. Get a big glass or cup of your favorite beverage and have a good read…. And it’s a long weekend so don’t forget to look through the other 700+ stories… Enjoy, Take Care, and God Bless :-) Kenny T

Originally posted on Morning Story and Dilbert:

Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 10, 2000

–Kleenex Alert—

They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen..  The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt.  Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news.  The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant.  They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the…

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Originally posted on God is Good!:

Fr. Thomas Nash, OSA As a young teacher at St. Rita High School, Chicago 1946

Fr. Thomas Nash, OSA
As a young teacher at St. Rita High School, Chicago 1946

Some 25 years ago, I heard a never-to-be forgotten homily given by Father Dudley Day, OSAat the Funeral Mass of Father Tom Nash, OSA.  He said, “When we ate out, at the end of the meal, Father Tom always asked the same question, ‘did the waitress receive enough gratitude?’”

As teenagers in the 1930’s Father Tom and I caddied at the Beverly Country Club, Chicago.  We caddies gave Tom, as we knew him then, the nickname, “Darbie”, a special name that stayed with him through his priesthood.  He always had a crease in his pants, a clean white shirt and his hair was combed smoothly every day.  As a caddy, Tom knew the value of a “tip”, then something like a quarter!  Most of the time we received no tip and were…

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