Don't let harsh words affect you

 

" Don't let harsh words from people affect you "

A father saw that his 11-year-old son was crying silently. He asked him.

"What's the matter, son?"

The young boy replied.

"My rich classmates mocked, called me son of a gardener. They said that my father lives only on the money he earns from watering and feeding plants for people"

The father paused for a moment, then said.

"Come with me son, let's plant some flowers. It might cheer you up"

He held his hand and walked him to the garden, then he took out some flower seeds, and said.

"Let's carry out an experiment. We will plant two flowers separately. I will care for one, and you will care for the other. I will water mine with clean water from the lake but you will water yours with dirty water from the pond. We shall see the outcome in the weeks to come"

The son was delighted as he joined his father in planting the flowers. It took them some days to finally germinate the flower seeds. They cared for them respectively and watched them grow.

Later on, the father brought his son to the garden, and said to him.

"Look at the two flowers and tell me your observation"

The boy responded.

"My flower looks better and healthier than yours. How is that even possible when your water is cleaner?"

The father smiled, then said.

"That's because dirty water doesn't stop a plant from growing, rather it serves as organic fertilizer to help it flourish.

You see son, there are some people who put you down in life, mock your dreams, and throw dirt on you.

Always remember that there's nothing wrong with you, it is their ego they have to satisfy.

So, don't let the harsh words from people affect you, instead, let it encourage you into being a better person. And doing so, you will be like the plant and will flourish even in the midst of dirt like negativity and harsh words.

(Author Unknown).

 

The Black Telephone - " Information please "

 

The Black Telephone

Those of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the kitchen, can relate to this story. I loved this read.

When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighbourhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box.. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbour. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlour and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlour and held it to my ear. "Information, please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience..

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked

"No, "I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.

She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."

"Information," said in the now familiar voice.

"How do I spell fix?" I asked

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.

"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

"Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle .

A different voice answered, "Information."

I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" she said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" "

"Yes." I answered.

Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today?

"Listen to your Elders"

 

Listen to your  ELDERS when they SAY!!!

1. "A stitch in time saves nine."

2. "Actions speak louder than words."

3. "All good things come to those who wait."

4. "An apple a day keeps the doctor away."

5. "Birds of a feather flock together."

6. "Better late than never."

7. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch."

8. "Don't put all your eggs in one basket."

9. "Every cloud has a silver lining."

10. "Every dog has its day."

11. "Every man for himself."

12. "Fortune favours the bold."

13. "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime."

14. "Haste makes waste."

15. "It takes two to tango."

16. "Kill two birds with one stone."

17. "Let sleeping dogs lie."

18. "Make hay while the sun shines."

19. "Necessity is the mother of invention."

20. "No pain, no gain."

021. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire."

22. "Practice makes perfect."

23. "Rome wasn't built in a day."

24. "The early bird catches the worm."

25. "The grass is always greener on the other side."

26. "The pen is mightier than the sword."

27. "There's no smoke without fire."

28. "Too many cooks spoil the broth."

29. "Two heads are better than one."

30. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

31. "Where there's a will, there's a way."

32. "You can't judge a book by its cover."

33. "You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs."

34. "You reap what you sow."

35. "A watched pot never boils."

36. "Actions speak louder than words."

37. "Beggars can't be choosers."

38. "Better safe than sorry."

39. "Curiosity killed the cat."

40. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you."

41. "Don't cry over spilled milk."

42. "Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today."

43. "Easy come, easy go."

44. "Familiarity breeds contempt."

45. "Half a loaf is better than none."

46. "Idle hands are the devil's workshop."

47. "It's no use crying over spilt milk."

48. "Jack of all trades, master of none."

49. "Kill the fatted calf."

50. "Let bygones be bygones."

51. "Look before you leap."

 

"Drop your Troubles into the Palm of my Hand"

 

The bus driver by Elizabeth Gilbert

Some years ago, I was stuck on a crosstown bus in New York City during rush hour. Traffic was barely moving. The bus was filled with cold, tired people who were deeply irritated with one another, with the world itself. Two men barked at each other about a shove that might or might not have been intentional. A pregnant woman got on, and nobody offered her a seat. Rage was in the air; no mercy would be found here.

But as the bus approached Seventh Avenue, the driver got on the intercom. 'Folks,' he said, 'I know you have had a rough day and you are frustrated. I can’t do anything about the weather or traffic, but here is what I can do. As each one of you gets off the bus, I will reach out my hand to you. As you walk by, drop your troubles into the palm of my hand, okay? Don’t take your problems home to your families tonight, just leave them with me. My route goes right by the Hudson River, and when I drive by there later, I will open the window and throw your troubles in the water.'

It was as if a spell had lifted. Everyone burst out laughing. Faces gleamed with surprised delight. People who had been pretending for the past hour not to notice each other’s existence were suddenly grinning at each other like, is this guy serious?

Oh, he was serious.

At the next stop, just as promised, the driver reached out his hand, palm up, and waited. One by one, all the exiting commuters placed their hand just above his and mimed the gesture of dropping something into his palm. Some people laughed as they did this, some teared up but everyone did it. The driver repeated the same lovely ritual at the next stop, too. And the next. All the way to the river.

We live in a hard world, my friends.

Sometimes it is extra difficult to be a human being. Sometimes you have a bad day. Sometimes you have a bad day that lasts for several years. You struggle and fail. You lose jobs, money, friends, faith, and love. You witness horrible events unfolding in the news, and you become fearful and withdrawn. There are times when everything seems cloaked in darkness. You long for the light but don’t know where to find it.

But what if you are the light? What if you are the very agent of illumination that a dark situation begs for?. That’s what this bus driver taught me, that anyone can be the light, at any moment. This guy wasn’t some big power player. He wasn’t a spiritual leader. He wasn’t some media-savvy influencer. He was a bus driver, one of society’s most invisible workers. But he possessed real power, and he used it beautifully for our benefit.

When life feels especially grim, or when I feel particularly powerless in the face of the world’s troubles, I think of this man and ask myself, What can I do, right now, to be the light? Of course, I can’t personally end all wars, or solve global warming, or transform vexing people into entirely different creatures. I definitely can’t control traffic. But I do have some influence on everyone I brush up against, even if we never speak or learn each other’s name.

No matter who you are, or where you are, or how mundane or tough your situation may seem, I believe you can illuminate your world. In fact, I believe this is the only way the world will ever be illuminated, one bright act of grace at a time, all the way to the river.

 

 

" I'm gonna be like you, Dad "

 

The Gift of Time: A Reflection on Spending Time with Your Children

In the rush of daily life, it’s easy to get caught up in responsibilities—work, chores, commitments, and the never-ending to-do lists. As parents, we often tell ourselves that we are working hard for our children, providing for their needs, and ensuring their future security. But while these efforts are important, we must remember that the most valuable thing we can give our children is not material wealth or possessions—it is our time.

Time Is the Foundation of Love

Children spell love as T-I-M-E. More than anything else, they crave our attention, our presence, and our engagement in their world. Whether they are toddlers discovering the wonders of the world, school-aged kids eager to share their thoughts, or teenagers seeking understanding, our time with them shapes their emotional well-being and sense of self-worth.

Spending time with our children doesn’t always require extravagant trips or expensive gifts. What truly matters are the simple, everyday moments—the bedtime stories, the shared laughter at the dinner table, the walks in the park, or the quiet conversations before bed. These are the moments that create lifelong memories and strong family bonds.

Cat's in the Cradle

Song by Harry Chapin

My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talking 'fore I knew it, and as he grew
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you, dad"
"You know I'm gonna be like you"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
"When you coming home, dad?" "I don't know when"
But we'll get together then
You know we'll have a good time then

My son turned ten just the other day
He said, thanks for the ball, dad, come on let's play
Can you teach me to throw, I said-a, not today
I got a lot to do, he said, that's okay
And he, he walked away, but his smile never dimmed
It said, I'm gonna be like him, yeah
You know I'm gonna be like him

Well, he came from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?
He shook his head, and they said with a smile
What I'd really like, dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?

 

I've long since retired, my son's moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, I'd like to see you if you don't mind
He said, I'd love to, dad, if I can find the time
You see, my new job's a hassle, and the kids have the flu
But it's sure nice talking to you, dad
It's been sure nice talking to you
And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5u-KWa3tL-0&list=RD5u-KWa3tL-0&start_radio=1&ab_channel=RHINO

Quality Over Quantity

It’s easy to say, I’ll spend time with them later. But later is uncertain. Work, responsibilities, and obligations will always be there. But childhood? Childhood has an expiration date.

Spending time with our children doesn’t mean grand vacations or expensive gifts. It’s in the simple things:

• Reading bedtime stories even when we’re tired.
• Sitting down for family dinners and truly listening.
• Going for walks and letting them lead the conversation.
• Playing their silly games even when we don’t understand the rules.
• Laughing at their jokes even when they don’t make sense.
• Holding them close because one day, they’ll stop asking for hugs.

These are the moments that matter. These are the memories they’ll carry with them into adulthood.

The man who planted Hope

 

The Man Who Planted Hope

Long ago, in a small village surrounded by barren land, there lived an old man named Elias. The village had once been fertile and full of life, but over time, the soil dried up, the rivers shrank, and the trees withered. People left in search of better lands, until only a few remained, barely surviving.

But every morning, before the sun rose, Elias would walk to the dead land beyond the village, carrying a small bag. He would kneel, dig a small hole in the dry earth, and drop a single seed inside. Then, he would cover it, sprinkle water from his little flask, and move on.

Day after day, year after year, he did this.

---

A Young Traveler’s Doubt

One day, a young traveler named Daniel arrived at the village. He had heard tales of its dying lands and wanted to see it for himself.

He watched as Elias planted his seeds in the cracked earth.

"Old man," Daniel said, "why do you waste your time? Nothing grows here. The land is dead."

Elias smiled, wrinkles deepening around his eyes. "Ah, but the land is only as dead as the hope we have for it."

Daniel scoffed. "Even if a tree did grow, you are too old to see it. You won’t be here when it gives shade, or when the fruit comes."

Elias chuckled. "Then I am planting for those who will come after me."

Daniel left, shaking his head at the old man’s foolishness.

---

The Storm and the Miracle

Years passed. Elias grew frail, but he never stopped planting. Then, one night, a great storm came. It raged for hours, pouring rain like the land hadn’t seen in decades. The dry earth drank eagerly, soaking in the gift.

When the sun rose the next morning, something incredible happened.

Tiny green sprouts peeked out from the soil where Elias had planted.

The villagers, who had long lost hope, stared in awe. Over the next months, the sprouts grew into saplings, and the saplings into trees.

The winds carried seeds farther, and soon, more plants began to grow. The river swelled again. Birds returned, and with them, life.

By the time Daniel returned to the village years later, he could hardly believe his eyes. The land that was once dry and dead was now a lush forest.

"What happened?" he asked.

An elder smiled. "Elias happened."

Daniel found the old man’s grave beneath the tallest tree, its branches heavy with fruit. The words on the stone read:

"He never saw the forest, but he planted it anyway."

Tears welled in Daniel’s eyes. He realized then that true greatness is not in what we take, but in what we leave behind.

---

The Lesson

In life, we may not always see the results of our kindness, our efforts, or our dreams—but that doesn’t mean they don’t matter.

The seeds of today become the forests of tomorrow.

One 

One song can spark a moment,
One flower can wake the dream.
One tree can start a forest,
One bird can herald spring.
One smile begins a friendship,
One handclasp lifts a soul.
One star can guide a ship at sea,
One word can frame the goal.
One vote can change a nation,
One sunbeam lights a room.
One candle wipes out darkness,
One laugh will conquer gloom.
One step must start each journey,
One word must start each prayer.
One hope will raise our spirits,
One touch can show you care.
One voice can speak with wisdom,
One heart can know what's true.
One life can make the difference,
You see it's up to YOU!!!

Inclusivity / Diversity - what legacy do you want to leave ?

    

A 90 Year-Old Rᴀᴄɪsᴛ Woman Tells Big Shaq ‘Go Back to Africa’—His Response Leaves the Crowd Speechless

One sunny afternoon, Big Shaq, known for his towering presence and fame as a basketball legend, decided to visit his usual corner store. Despite his celebrity status and impressive physique—standing over two meters tall—he enjoyed the simple pleasure of grocery shopping. It was his way of unwinding after long, demanding days.

Casually dressed in a grey t-shirt, jeans, and a shiny watch, Shaq strolled into the bustling store with his usual friendly demeanour. The staff, familiar with his visits, greeted him warmly, and he returned their smiles as he picked up a basket and began walking through the aisles.

Stopping at the cereal section, Shaq browsed the shelves with focused attention, carefully reading labels to find something nutritious. He was so absorbed in his task that he didn’t notice an elderly woman, Mrs. Margaret, approaching behind him. She was a petite lady with snow-white hair, leaning on a cane and pushing a squeaky cart.

“Excuse me, young man!” her voice rang out sharply. “How am I supposed to get my cereal when you’re standing in the way?”

Startled, Shaq turned around to face her. Seeing her stern expression, he quickly stepped aside with a polite smile. “Sorry about that, ma’am,” he said warmly.

But Mrs. Margaret wasn’t finished. Glancing up at him with a disapproving look, she muttered, “They’ll let anyone in here these days. No standards anymore.”

Her words carried a tone of prejudice that Shaq couldn’t ignore. Though her remark stung, he chose to remain calm, a principle he’d held onto throughout his life. With a deep breath, he resumed browsing, determined not to let her words ruin his day.

As Shaq moved to leave the aisle, Mrs. Margaret suddenly shouted, her voice loud and accusatory. “Security! Someone get security here now!”

The store fell silent as customers turned to see what was happening. A young security guard hurried over, looking bewildered. Mrs. Margaret pointed at Shaq with a trembling finger.

“Get him out of here! People like him don’t belong here. Send him back to Africa!”

Time seemed to stand still. Shaq stood motionless, processing the hateful words. Though his expression remained composed, the hurt was evident in his eyes. He had faced prejudice before, but the blatant venom in her words was a painful reminder of the challenges he still endured.

The security guard hesitated, glancing between Mrs. Margaret and Shaq. “Ma’am,” he said carefully, “he hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just shopping.”

Mrs. Margaret’s face flushed with anger. “Are you refusing to listen to me?” she demanded, banging her cane on the floor. “Get the manager!”

Moments later, the store manager arrived, looking serious. Mrs. Margaret wasted no time, pointing again at Shaq. “I want him out of this store. Now!”

Before the manager could respond, Shaq stepped forward. His deep, steady voice filled the aisle. “Ma’am,” he began, his tone calm but firm, “I understand that you may not be used to seeing someone like me here. But I’m just here to shop, like you and everyone else. I’m a son, a friend, a hardworking man, and a citizen of this community. My skin colour doesn’t change that.”

The store remained silent as Shaq continued, his words powerful yet full of grace. “I’ve faced comments like yours before. They’re hurtful, but I choose not to respond with anger. Instead, I feel sad—sad that someone who has lived as long as you have could hold onto such outdated views.”

Mrs. Margaret faltered, her eyes dropping to the floor. Shaq’s voice softened. “I have a grandmother about your age. She taught me to respect my elders because they’ve seen and experienced things I never will. But if she were here and heard the words you said to me, I think she’d feel disappointed.”

The room was heavy with emotion. A few shoppers wiped their eyes, moved by Shaq’s composure and sincerity.

“You’ve seen the world change,” Shaq said gently. “If your grandchildren heard what happened here today, would they be proud? Is this the legacy you want to leave behind?”

Mrs. Margaret’s hands trembled as tears welled in her eyes. Her voice quivered as she finally spoke.

“I… I didn’t think of it that way. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Shaq gave her a kind smile. “It’s okay, ma’am. We all make mistakes. What’s important is learning from them.”

The aisle erupted in applause. Mrs. Margaret reached out, placing a hand on Shaq’s arm. Her voice was now soft and genuine. “Thank you for teaching me this,” she said.

Shaq nodded. “We can all learn from one another. That’s how we grow.”

The tension in the store dissolved. The manager thanked Shaq for his grace, and customers approached to express their admiration. Even Mrs. Margaret, now visibly humbled, left with a warm smile.

As Shaq exited the store that evening, the golden sunset bathed the street in a peaceful glow. He felt a sense of fulfilment, knowing he had transformed a moment of hostility into one of understanding and humanity.

The story spread through the community, becoming a powerful reminder of compassion and forgiveness. Mrs. Margaret, once known for her biases, began greeting everyone with kindness, while Shaq continued to inspire others with his big heart and unshakable belief in the power of kindness.

 

...................................................................