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Monthly Archives: April 2018

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As a child, I wrote my last will. All my toys were to go to our cat: my room — to Alex, the local hobo who always said “hi“ to me; my etiquette textbook was to go to my brother, as we’d had a fight not long before. I brought the list to my aunt, who was a lawyer, and asked her to ”apostle“ it. She was a resourceful woman, so she sent copies of my list to all our relatives, crowning it all by putting the original on her desk in a frame. That way, not only my family laughed at me but all her clients did too.

Once, a boy from my class approached me during naptime in kindergarten. I pretended to be asleep and didn’t move. He lay beside me, kissed me on the cheek, and quietly said, “I love you.” Then he went to his bed. I still remember him going home that day, his gray striped sweatshirt… Now I’m 27, but that childhood confession remains one of the most romantic things I’ve heard in my life.

When I went to my grandfather’s home outside the town, everyone there had a ”Beware of the dog“ sign on their gates. I once got angry with Grandpa for some reason, and while he was at work, I wrote ”Beware of Gramps” on his gate.

A girl once brought a new doll to kindergarten, and it was so pretty even the boys liked it. Everyone played with it, but I was the one to break it. The girl cried, of course, so I decided to give her a similar doll. I asked my parents to buy it for me for my birthday instead of the thing I wanted for myself. They approved, and I gave her that doll on my birthday. The girl’s joy was the best pay-off I could imagine. And at dinner, my dad gave me my own present as well. He said I did the right thing, and they were proud of me.

When I was 3, my grandma and I went to the grocery store. There was a line of a few people. One of the women there said to my grandma, “What a beautiful daughter you have!“ Without too much thinking, I pulled down both my shorts and my underpants and said, ”I’m a grandson!“

When I was 8, I remember our cat giving birth to a litter. After the winter holidays, when I couldn’t get up from bed in the morning, my mom caught all the kittens and let them loose in my bed. They crawled all over me, and I just had to get up to let them down on the floor. One of the warmest memories from my childhood.

When my brother was little, we lived in a country house, and he often went in the backyard to get suntanned. He took a folding bed, undressed to his shorts, lay down, and covered himself with a blanket. When our mom told him that wasn’t how you tanned, he replied, “If I take it off, mosquitoes will bite me!”

My friend and I live in the same apartment building on the same floor, but we’re two entrances away from each other. When we were little, we didn’t have cell phones, so we decided to make our own ”mail“ by pulling a rope from her balcony to mine. It wasn’t too easy, we lived on the second floor after all, but we somehow managed. It turned out to be real fun: you attached a note to the end of one rope, pulled the other, and your note started traveling. We were so happy we could send these ”mails” to each other every evening. In the morning, the one to wake up first was to send the first note. I remember getting up and rushing to the balcony where there was already a note waiting saying “Good morning!” I miss those times so much.

When I was little, I often played in the sandbox with my friend. She once told me a story about how she’d been digging the sand and had dug so deep she could see the subway and the trains. I believed her and started digging myself, sitting there until late, when my parents took me away. I was so frustrated when they told me there was no subway in our town!

Taking a shower as a kid, I liked filling my mouth with water and pretending I was a fountain by spitting it out. I even assumed different “fountain” poses. Some dreamed of becoming doctors, others of flying into space, and I dreamed of becoming a fountain.

When I was 3, my parents painted the floor. I didn’t notice, and I ran across it, leaving my footprints in the paint. Now I’m 21. Recently, when moving the sofa, I saw those same prints. It turned out my parents hadn’t painted them over specifically for me to see them when I grew up.

Childhood Memories were found at this Website....
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…..a good end of the week story!!!! Enjoy and have a great weekend!!! Kenny T

Shootin' the Breeze

Edmund Burke (1729-1797):
All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.

The little boy was in kindergarten.  The bigger boys were in 6th grade.  The girl was in 4th.

The kindergartener suffered from hydrocephalus, a condition that affected his appearance.  He had a larger than normal head and his eyes were far apart.  He knew he looked different.  It probably took courage to go out on the playground.  He had other health problems.

The two sixth grade boys made cruel remarks about the little boy.  They made their cruel remarks from the top of the slide, having climbed the ladder, but staying on the top of the slide, blocking its use by other children.  It was their podium on a stage.  They could tease from on high.  They thought they were funny.

The kindergartener naturally did not find them funny.  The…

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I am working late at night in a 24-hour pharmacy. There are only three customers in the store: a scruffy but clean young couple and another gentleman. The woman in the young couple is very heavily pregnant, and her partner is picking up the range of baby hats we carry and holding them up against her stomach, then looking at the prices and sadly putting them back. They pick up a packet of the cheapest pain medication we carry and bring it to the counter.

Female Customer: “I’m sorry, but can you please ask the pharmacist if these are safe for me to take?”

Me: “Of course!”

While we’re waiting for the pharmacist to come out, they tell me they’re expecting their daughter any day now. The pharmacist has been watching the young couple since they came in.

Pharmacist: “These are fine, but can I ask why you need them?”

Female Customer: “Oh, I have a horrible cough that’s making my back ache even worse. I can’t get to sleep.”

The pharmacist goes through a list of cough medicines safe for her to take, before the young man shakes his head with tears in his eyes.

Male Customer: “I’m sorry, I’ve just lost my job and we really can’t afford any of those. Sorry for wasting your time.”

Pharmacist: “That’s okay, but this packet is damaged, and legally I can’t let you take it. Seeing as it was the last one, let me and [my name] go look in the back for some more.”

The pharmacist takes me out the back, where he puts three packets of name brand painkillers, four bottles of name brand cough syrup, a wheat bag for her back, a tin of formula, a packet of newborn nappies and a few of the hats the couple was looking at into a box. He hands me the box and tells me to take it out to them. I do and they both burst into tears, thanking us over and over again. They leave with huge smiles on their faces.

Female Customer: “Thank you again!”

Other Customer: “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but over hear. Did you say you just lost your job at [local company]?”

Male Customer: “Yes, I was an IT tech.”

Other Customer: “I own [other computer store in the area], and I’m looking for a new tech. Can you start tomorrow?”

There were tears all round that night. A week later, the young woman brought in her beautiful daughter and a giant batch of cupcakes for the pharmacy staff. Best night at work ever!

Author Unknown - Story found at this web site

A little boy surprised his grandmother one morning and brought her a cup of coffee in bed. He had made it all by himself and was very proud of himself. He waited eagerly to hear her verdict on the quality of the coffee.

The grandmother had truly never in her life had such a bad cup of coffee. The first few sips just about did her in, but she praised her grandson, and told him it was wonderful – and she drank it all anyway.

As she forced down the last sip, she noticed three little green army guys in the bottom of the cup. She asked, “Honey, why would three of your little army guys be in the bottom of my cup?”

Her grandson replied, “You know, Grandma, it’s like on TV: ‘The best part of waking up is soldiers in your cup.”

 

Author Unknown - Please Comment if you know the author

 

I was five years old when I walked into my mother’s bedroom and told her I wanted to give my life to Christ. We got down on our knees beside the bed and I asked Jesus into my heart. After that, I proudly told everyone that Jesus had saved me, but my pride slowly diminished over the years.

As I got older, the more I questioned the efficacy of my salvation prayer because, let’s be honest, the five-year-old motives behind it didn’t exactly demonstrate any depth of understanding about what I was doing.

On the one hand, my parents taught me a lot about the Bible, so by that age, I really had developed a childhood affection for the miracle-working Savior who held little kids in His lap and then died to save them.

On the other hand, I wanted to be born again because I would get to take the grape juice and cracker during communion at our Baptist Church — not to mention the most important reason of all: I would avoid going to hell. These reasons didn’t seem like very good ones for wanting to commit my eternal life to God, so I eventually began to wonder if perhaps I hadn’t actually been saved after all.

My insecurity about my salvation inspired me to repeatedly redo my salvation prayer, but it never seemed like it was enough. I wanted something more official. I needed a prayer that would unquestionably provide my eternal connection to Jesus. But there was a vignette in the Easter story that provided the security that a prayer for salvation never could.

A Thief’s Last Words

As Jesus was hanging there and His life was almost over, He had a brief conversation with one of the two thieves hanging on either side of Him. The gospel of Matthew tells us that this thief had actually been mocking Jesus earlier in his crucifixion. But Luke tells us the rest of the story: With the clock ticking down on his life, the thief had a sudden change of heart and made a simple request: “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom.”

The man was a low-life, a common criminal attempting a desperate deathbed conversion, and all he could utter was a request that wasn’t exactly profound: “Remember me.”

Jesus didn’t do an inventory of the man’s good or bad deeds before He responded. He didn’t ignore him or wait until the man said the perfect words. “Remember me” was more than enough. In the final minutes of their lives, Jesus responded, “Truly I say to you, today you’ll be with Me in Paradise.”

Maybe you won’t go to church this Easter — maybe you don’t even want to. Maybe you’re a believer who’s insecure about your salvation. Maybe the idea of praying about something as monumental as your eternal salvation seems intimidating to you — you wouldn’t even know where to start. Start here: “Remember me.”

It doesn’t matter if your motives are self-interested or if you’ve never shown any desire to follow Jesus. It doesn’t matter how many mistakes you’ve made and how many more you’re likely to make. He’s there willing and waiting to take you home with Him.

Call out to Him. Trust that He’s willing to welcome you into His kingdom. Ask Him to remember you today. His certain response will have nothing to do with your worthiness and everything to do with His unfailing love.

This column was originally published on April 13, 2017.

Joshua Rogers is a writer and attorney who lives in Washington, D.C. You can follow Joshua on Twitter @MrJoshuaRogers and Facebook, and read more of his writing at JoshuaRogers.com.

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