A pencil story..Worth a read

Once upon a time...
A boy was watching his grandmother write a letter.
As one point, he asked, “Are you writing a story about what we’ve done? Is it a story about me??”
His grandmother stopped writing her letter and said to her grandson, “I am writing about you...actually,
But more important than the words is the pencil I’m using.
I hope you will be like this pencil when you grow up.”
Intrigued, the boy looked at the pencil. It didn’t seem very special.
“But it’s just like any other pencil I’ve ever seen!”, he said.
“That depends on how you look at things”, the grandmother replied.

“This pencil has five qualities which, if you manage to hang on them, will make you a person who is always at peace with the world.

First quality: You are capable of great things, but you must never forget that there is a hand guiding your steps.
We call that hand..God, and He always guides us according to His will.

Second quality: Now and then, I have to stop writing and use a sharpener. That makes the pencil suffer a little, but afterwards, he’s much sharper.
So you, too, must learn to bear certain pains and sorrows, because they will make you a better person.

Third quality: The pencil always allows us to use an eraser to rub out any mistakes.
This means that correcting something we did is not necessarily a bad thing; it helps to keep us on the road to justice.

Fourth quality: What really matters in a pencil is not its wooden exterior, but the graphite inside.
So always pay attention to what is happening inside you.

Finally, the pencil’s fifth quality: It always leaves a mark.
In jus the same way, you should know that everything you do in life will leave a mark, so try to be conscious of that in your every action."

MARIA'S NEW HAT 🎩!!!

Maria lived with her mother in a small apartment  in NYC.

She wasn't too young or too old..
not too short or too tall..
not particularly beautiful nor ugly..
She was just an average woman .

She worked as a secretary at a large company, and her life was pretty much boring and mundane.

No one at work paid any attention to her..
Those that did considered her to be as boring as her life was.

One morning, on her way to work,  Maria saw a new hat   shop that opened down the street.

In a spur of curiosity she walked  in!

In the shop was a little girl and her mother ,  who came to pick the girl a hat,  and another customer who was trying on hats...

Maria also tried on a few  hats,  until she found one she liked .

She put it on and
It looked nice!

First to notice was the little girl : "Mommy, look how pretty that woman looks with the hat on!"

The mother said:
"Ma'am, I must say, this hat just looks wonderful on you!"
The second buyer also came to look:
"Ma'am, you look lovely with that hat on!"

Maria went to the mirror ..
She looked at herself..
And for the first time in her adult life..
She liked what she saw.

Smiling , she went to the counter and bought the hat.

As she walked outside a new world  revealed itself to her.

She never before noticed the colors of the flowers ..
or the scent of the fresh air..

The sound of the cars  and the people ..
sounded like an harmonious melody..

She walked  as if drifting on a cloud..
with a song in her heart ..

When she passed by the coffee shop she walked  by every morning,
one of the young handsome men called out to her:
"Hey darling..looking good!
Are you new here?
Can I buy you a cup  of coffee? "

She smiled shyly and kept walking ..
Floating on her cloud...

When she got to the office building,
the doorman opened the door and wished her good morning..
Never before had he even noticed her!

The people in the elevator asked her the floor she
needed and pressed the button for her.

The people at the office, as if seen her for the first time
Flattered her on how lovely she looked today.

The manager asked her out to lunch to talk about how she felt at work!

When this magical workday was over she decided
tools take a cab  home instead of the bus .
As soon as she put her hand up 2 taxis stopped!

She took the first one and sat in the back seat..
Thinking about the miraculous day she had and
how her life changed thanks to the new hat!

When she got home , her mom opened the door.
The sight of Maria took her breath away!
"Maria" she said surprised
"How beautiful you look!
Your eyes  are all lit up like when you were a little girl! "

"Yes, mother" Said Maria
"It's all thanks to my new hat ,
I had the most marvelous day!"

"Maria"
said her mother
"What hat??"

Maria panicked.

She touched her head and saw that the hat that changed her life was not there..
She didn't remember taking it off in the cab ..
Or at lunch ..
Or at the office..

She thought back to the store where she had bought it..
How she noticed it for the first time..
She put it on..
Paying  for it at the cashier's...

And she remembered painfully now..
How she put it on the counter..
To get her purse  out to pay.. And how she forgot the hat right there.. On the counter...

Then she walked out to the street.. Hat-less yet glowing!

FOOD FOR THOUGHT:
It wasn't the hat  that freed Maria,
it was the quality of her thoughts! 

Our thoughts can enslave us into a horrible bondage or liberate us towards sweet freedom: to be, do, or have anything we wish for!!!

Don't place your mistakes on your head , their weight may crush you.

Instead, place them under your feet  and use them as a platform to raise your vision.

The cockroach theory for self development👍

A beautiful speech by Sundar Pichai - an IIT-MIT Alumnus and Global Head Google Chrome:

    
At a restaurant, a cockroach suddenly flew from somewhere and  sat on a lady.

She started screaming out of fear.

With a panic stricken face and trembling voice,she started jumping, with both her hands desperately trying to get rid of the cockroach.

Her reaction was contagious, as everyone in her group also got panicky.

The lady finally managed to push the cockroach away but ...it landed on another lady in the group.

Now, it was the turn of the other lady in the group to continue the drama.

The waiter rushed forward to their rescue.

In the relay of throwing, the cockroach next fell upon the waiter.

The waiter stood firm, composed himself and observed the behavior of the cockroach on his shirt.

When he was confident enough, he grabbed it with his fingers and threw it out of the restaurant.

Sipping my coffee and watching the amusement, the antenna of my mind picked up a few thoughts and started wondering, was the cockroach
responsible for their histrionic behavior?

If so, then why was the waiter not disturbed?

He handled it near to perfection, without any chaos.

It is not the cockroach, but the inability of the ladies to handle the disturbance caused by the cockroach that disturbed the ladies.

I realized that, it is not the shouting of my father or my boss or my wife that disturbs me, but it's my inability to handle the disturbances caused by their shouting that disturbs me.

It's not the traffic jams on the road that disturbs me, but my inability to handle the disturbance caused by the traffic jam that disturbs me.

More than the problem, it's my reaction to the problem that creates chaos in my life.

Lessons learnt from the story:

I understood, I should not react in life.

I should always respond.

The women reacted, whereas the waiter responded.

Reactions are always instinctive whereas responses are always well thought of.
A beautiful way to understand.......
LIFE.
Person who is HAPPY is not because Everything is RIGHT in his Life..

He is HAPPY because his Attitude towards Everything in his Life is Right..!!

Scars of Love..

Some years ago, on a hot summer day in south Florida, a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore.

His father, working in the yard, saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, he ran toward the water, yelling to his son as loudly as he could.
Hearing his voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his father. It was too late. Just as he reached his father, the alligator reached him.

From the dock, the father grabbed his little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs.
That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the father, but the father was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard his screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator.

Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his father's fingernails dug into his flesh in his effort to hang on to the son he loved. The newspaper reporter, who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter,
"But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Dad wouldn't let go."

You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too.
No, not from an alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let you go. In the midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you.

The Scripture teaches that God loves you.
You are a child of God.
He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way.

But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril, and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack.
That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on your arms, be very, very grateful.
He did not and will not ever let you go.

PIANO LESSONS

This is a true story and it will give you the chills.

This is a beautiful and touching story of love and perseverance. Well worth the read.
At the prodding of my friends I am writing this story.
My name is Mildred Honor and I am a former elementary school music teacher from Des Moines , Iowa ..
I have always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons - something I have done
for over 30 years. During those years I found that children have many levels of musical  ability, and even though I have never had the pleasure of having a prodigy, I have taught some very talented students.
However, I have also had my share of what I call 'musically challenged' pupils - one such pupil being Robby..
Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson. I prefer that students (especially boys) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby.
But Robby said that it had always been his mother's dream to hear him play the piano, so I took him as a student.
Well, Robby began his piano lessons and from the beginning I thought it was a hopeless endeavor.
As much as Robby tried,he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel.
But he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary piano pieces that I require all my students to learn. Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and tried to encourage him.
At the end of each weekly lesson he would always say 'My mom's going to hear me play someday'. But to me, it seemed hopeless, he just did not have any inborn ability.
I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled, but never dropped in.
Then one day Robby stopped coming for his lessons. I thought about calling him, but assumed that because of his lack of ability he had decided to pursue something else.
I was also glad that he had stopped coming  he was a bad advertisement for my teaching!
Several weeks later I mailed a flyer recital to the students' homes.
To my surprise, Robby (who had received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital.
I told him that the recital was for current pupils and that because he had dropped out, he really did not qualify.
He told me that his mother had been sick and unable to take him to his piano lessons,
but that he had been practicing.
'Please Miss Honor, I've just got to play' he insisted.
I don't know what led me to allow him to play in the recital - perhaps it was his insistence or maybe something inside of me saying that it would be all right.
The night of the recital came and the high school gymnasium was packed with parents, relatives and friends. I put Robby last in the program, just before I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece.
I thought that any damage he might do would come at the end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my 'curtain closer'.
Well, the recital went off without a hitch, the students had been practicing and it showed.
Then Robby came up on the stage.His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked as though he had run an egg beater through it.'Why wasn't he dressed up like the other students?' I thought. 'Why didn't his mother at least make him comb his hair for this special night?'
Robby pulled out the piano bench, and I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen to play Mozart's Concerto No. 21 in C Major.I was not prepared for what I heard next.His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced nimbly on the ivories. He went from pianissimo to fortissimo,
from allegro to virtuoso;his suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent!
Never had I heard Mozart played so well by anyone his age.
After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo, and everyone was on their feet in wild applause!
Overcome and in tears, I ran up onstage and put my arms around Robby in joy. 'I have never heard you play like that Robby, how did you do it?
'Through the microphone Robby explained: 'Well, Miss Honor .... remember I told you that my mom was sick? Well, she actually had cancer and passed away this morning.
And well ...... she was born deaf, so tonight was the first time she had ever heard me play,
and I wanted to make it special.'
There wasn't a dry eye in the house that evening.
As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed into foster care,
 I noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy.
I thought to myself then how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.
No, I have never had a prodigy, but that night I became a prodigy ....... of Robby.
He was the teacher and I was the pupil, for he had taught me the meaning of perseverance and love, of respect and believing in yourself, and may be even taking a chance on someone and you didn't know why.
Robby was killed years later in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P.  Murray Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April, 1995.
So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice
Do we act with compassion or do we pass up that opportunity and leave the world a bit colder in the process?

Thank you for reading this.
May God Bless you today, tomorrow and always.
If God didn't have a purpose for us, we wouldn't be here!

Live simply.

Love generously.

Care deeply.
Speak kindly.
Be truthful.
Be thankful.
Respect others.
Leave the rest to God.