This story takes place once upon a time, a very long time ago, deep in the forest. Now you remember what a forest is don't you? Right, it is a place where there are lots of trees. OK, so in just one tiny part of a forest, a baby deer was born (a baby deer is called a "fawn") Oh my, there was so much excitement that day. All the animals wanted to come and see the new fawn. Do you know why? It is because this was a special fawn. He was a young Prince. That means that one day, this tiny baby, would be all grown up and become the leader of all the deer in the forest. The birds sang the happiest song. "Drip drip drop little April showers" What a beautiful, beautiful Spring day it was.
Thumper, he was a cute little rabbit, asked the mama deer what she was going to call her baby. She smiled and looked down at her son and then at Thumper. " I am going to call him Bambi," she said. Thumper stood there for a moment, thumping his foot. "That's a funny name", he said at last. Thumper's mommy scolded him, very gently, "Thumper", she said, "What did you father tell you this morning?" Thumper hung his head down, just a bit and replied, "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin at all!" And you know, that is really what we should all remember. We should always remember to say nice things about each other.
It was a happy time for Bambi. He soon learned to do many things. Thumper was his very best friend, they did all kinds of fun stuff together. Why, in no time at all Bambi was standing up. Oh yes he was really wobbly at first. Thumper just had to laugh at him. But that was ok because it was a nice kind of laughter, and Bambi did not mind it a bit. Of course he could not understand why Thumper laughed so hard when another animal popped up out of the flowers, and Bambi called him "Flower". It really was funny though, because you see, Flower was a skunk. And skunks are not the sweetest smelling of animals, especially not when they get excited. Oh my, most certainly not when they get excited.
Then one morning, real early, Bambi's mother took him to a wonderful place. It was called "the meadow". What a nice place that was for a young fawn to romp around and have fun. It was there that Bambi met Faline. Faline was very cute to be sure. At first Bambi was a little afraid of her, well, maybe not so much afraid as he was shy. But soon they were racing around and having a grand time chasing one another. When all of a sudden, there was a horrible, loud noise. Like thunder! only louder! All the animals were running very swiftly. They were being led by "The Prince of the Forest" He was very old, and very strong. But he was also very, very wise. He knew he had to lead all the animals in the forest to safety. The one word that would do that was "MAN". Oh yes, all the animals knew that word. They knew it meant there was danger close by. So they did not waste any time, they ran as fast as they could. When it was safe, they all returned to their homes, and Bambi lay comfortably, safe and protected by his mother.
Winter soon came to the forest. At first Bambi had lots of fun. Thumper tried teaching him to slide on the ice, And as Bambi learned, Thumper just watched and laughed till he was rolling on his tummy. Poor Bambi, his four thin legs just went every which way, and down he would go again. Even though it was fun, it was also a hard time for Bambi and all the other animals, because the cold had rid the ground of it's soft green, tender carpet of grass, and sweet tasting flowers. There was little to eat, except tree bark. "BAM" there it was again. The same deafening sound Bambi had heard before. His mother yelled for him to run for the thicket. "Quick" she yelled. Bambi reached the thicket. But...but where was his mother. She had been right behind him, and now... she was not there.
Once again Bambi saw the Great Prince Of The Forest. "Your mother can no longer be with you. You must learn to walk alone." What did that mean. What was the Great Prince telling him. Did he mean Bambi would never see his mother again. Yes, he knew that was what the Great Prince was saying. Bambi was alone.
At last winter left, and spring returned. Everything was green again. Bambi had grown much bigger. He was no longer a fawn , now he was a "Buck". A buck is a male deer, much older than a fawn. As the spring went on to summer, Bambi roamed the forest and the meadow. Until one day he met Faline again. She had grown into a very beautiful graceful doe. Yes, that is what a grown up girl deer is called, a "doe". Just as they were beginning to enjoy being friends again, another buck came charging between them. He did not want Feline to stay with Bambi, he wanted Feline to stay with him. A terrible fight began. They kept charging at each other, bumping their foreheads against the other real hard. Unitl finally, the mean old bully was hurt and limped off all alone. Bambi and Feline walked off into the forest together.
As spring and summer had gone, Autumn arrived in the forest, The trees took on a breathtaking array of colors. And the air had a very special crispness to it. But sadly, all this beauty did not last. For one day Bambi began to smell something. And as he ran to find Feline, The Great Prince came. He told them to run very quickly, for the forest was on fire. Feline raced for protection, as Bambi and the Great Prince ran to warn all the other animals. At last. the fire was over. Bambi, Feline, and the Great Prince looked on at the terrible thing that the fire had done. All the colors were gone. There was a terrible smell of burned wood, and blackend trees. A fire is a terrible thing, it destroys everything it touches. As they stood there, gazing at what remained of the smoldering forest, it was then that the Great Prince told Bambi, that when the forest was green again, he would be very old, and Bambi would have to take his place
At last Spring arrived again. Green leaves, green grass, and wild flowers began to cover up some ot the damage the fire had done. And now do you know what was happening. All the animals were running to see. Not one new fawn, but two of them. They were cuddled next to their mother, Feline. And where was Bambi, why he was high on a hillside, looking down. His chest was puffed out, and he was standing there as proud as he could be. For not only was he a new father, but now Bambi was the new Prince of the Forest.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
King Grisly-Beard
A great king of a land far away in the East had a daughter who was very beautiful, but so proud and haughty and conceited, that none of the princes who came to ask for her hand in marriage was good enough for her. All she ever did was make fun of them.
Once upon a time the king held a great feast and invited all her suitors. They all sat in a row, ranged according to their rank -- kings and princes and dukes and earls and counts and barons and knights. When the princess came in, as she passed by them, she had something spiteful to say to each one.
The first was too fat: 'He's as round as a tub,' she said.
The next was too tall: 'What a maypole!' she said.
The next was too short: 'What a dumpling!' she said.
The fourth was too pale, and she called him 'Wallface.'
The fifth was too red, so she called him 'Coxcomb.'
The sixth was not straight enough; so she said he was like a green stick that had been laid to dry over a baker's oven. She had some joke to crack about every one. But she laughed most of all at a good king who was there.
'Look at him,' she said; 'his beard is like an old mop; he shall be called Grisly-beard.' So the king got the nickname of Grisly-beard.
But the old king was very angry when he saw how his daughter behaved and how badly she treated all his guests. He vowed that, willing or unwilling, she would marry the first man that came to the door.
Two days later a travelling fiddler came by the castle. He began to play under the window and begged for money and when the king heard him, he said, 'Let him come in.'
So, they brought the dirty-looking fellow in and, when he had sung before the king and the princess, he begged for a gift.
The king said, 'You have sung so well that I will give you my daughter to take as your wife.'
The princess begged and prayed; but the king said, 'I have sworn to give you to the first man who came to the door, and I will keep my word.'
Words and tears were to no avail; the parson was sent for, and she was married to the fiddler.
When this was over, the king said, 'Now get ready to leave -- you must not stay here -- you must travel with your husband.'
So the fiddler left the castle, and took the princess with him.
Soon they came to a great wood.
'Pray,' she said, 'whose is this wood?'
'It belongs to King Grisly-beard,' he answered; 'hadst thou taken him, all would have been thine.'
'Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!' she sighed; 'would that I had married King Grisly-beard!'
Next they came to some fine meadows.
'Whose are these beautiful green meadows?' she said.
'They belong to King Grisly-beard, hadst thou taken him, they would all have been thine.'
'Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!' she said; 'would that I had married King Grisly-beard!'
Then they came to a great city. 'Whose is this noble city?' she said.
'It belongs to King Grisly-beard; hadst thou taken him, it would all have been thine.'
'Ah! wretch that I am!' she sighed; 'why did I not marry King Grisly-beard?'
'That is no business of mine,' said the fiddler, 'why should you wish for another husband? Am I not good enough for you?'
At last they came to a small cottage. 'What a paltry place!' she said; 'to whom does that little dirty hole belong?'
The fiddler said, 'That is your and my house, where we are to live.'
'Where are your servants?' she cried.
'What do we want with servants?' he said; 'you must do for yourself whatever is to be done. Now make the fire, and put on water and cook my supper, for I am very tired.'
But the princess knew nothing of making fires and cooking, and the fiddler was forced to help her.
When they had eaten a very scanty meal they went to bed; but the fiddler called her up very early in the morning to clean the house.
They lived like that for two days and when they had eaten up all there was in the cottage, the man said, 'Wife, we can't go on thus, spending money and earning nothing. You must learn to weave baskets.'
Then the fiddler went out and cut willows, and brought them home, and she began to weave; but it made her fingers very sore.
'I see this work won't do,' he said, 'try and spin; perhaps you will do that better.'
So she sat down and tried to spin; but the threads cut her tender fingers until the blood ran.
'See now,' said the fiddler, 'you are good for nothing; you can do no work. What a bargain I have got! However, I'll try and set up a trade in pots and pans, and you shall stand in the market and sell them.'
'Alas!' she sighed, 'if any of my father's court should pass by and see me standing in the market, how they will laugh at me!'
But her husband did not care about that, and said she would have to work if she did not want to die of hunger.
At first the trade went well because many people, seeing such a beautiful woman, went to buy her wares and paid their money without even thinking of taking away the goods. They lived on this as long as it lasted and then her husband bought a fresh lot of pots and pans, and she sat herself down with it in the corner of the market.
However, soon a drunken soldier soon came by and rode his horse against her stall and broke all her goods into a thousand pieces.
She began to cry, and did not know what to do. 'Ah! what will become of me?' she said; 'what will my husband say?' So she ran home and told him everything.
'Who would have thought you would have been so silly,' he said, 'as to put an earthenware stall in the corner of the market, where everybody passes? But let us have no more crying; I see you are not fit for this sort of work, so I have been to the king's palace, and asked if they did not want a kitchen-maid; and they say they will take you, and there you will have plenty to eat.'
So the princess became a kitchen-maid and helped the cook to do all the dirtiest work. She was allowed to carry home some of the meat that was left over, and they lived on that.
She had not been there long before she heard that the king's eldest son was passing by, on his way to get married. She went to one of the windows and looked out. Everything was ready and all the pomp and brightness of the court was there. Seeing it, she grieved bitterly for the pride and folly that had brought her so low. The servants gave her some of the rich meats and she put them into her basket to take home.
All of a sudden, as she was leaving, in came the king's son in his golden clothes. When he saw such a beautiful woman at the door, he took her by the hand and said she should be his partner in the dance. She trembled with fear because she saw that it was King Grisly-beard, who was making fun of her. However, he kept hold of her, and led her into the hall. As she entered, the cover of the basket came off, and the meats in it fell out. Everybody laughed and jeered at her and she was so ashamed that she wished she were a thousand feet deep in the earth. She sprang over to the door so that she could run away but on the steps King Grisly-beard overtook her, brought her back and said:
'Fear me not! I am the fiddler who has lived with you in the hut. I brought you there because I truly loved you. I am also the soldier that overset your stall. I have done all this only to cure you of your silly pride, and to show you the folly of your ill-treatment of me. Now it is all over: you have learnt wisdom, and it is time to hold our marriage feast.'
Then the chamberlains came and brought her the most beautiful robes. Her father and his whole court were already there, and they welcomed her home. Joy was in every face and every heart. The feast was grand; they danced and sang; everyone was merry; and I only wish that you and I had been there.
Once upon a time the king held a great feast and invited all her suitors. They all sat in a row, ranged according to their rank -- kings and princes and dukes and earls and counts and barons and knights. When the princess came in, as she passed by them, she had something spiteful to say to each one.
The first was too fat: 'He's as round as a tub,' she said.
The next was too tall: 'What a maypole!' she said.
The next was too short: 'What a dumpling!' she said.
The fourth was too pale, and she called him 'Wallface.'
The fifth was too red, so she called him 'Coxcomb.'
The sixth was not straight enough; so she said he was like a green stick that had been laid to dry over a baker's oven. She had some joke to crack about every one. But she laughed most of all at a good king who was there.
'Look at him,' she said; 'his beard is like an old mop; he shall be called Grisly-beard.' So the king got the nickname of Grisly-beard.
But the old king was very angry when he saw how his daughter behaved and how badly she treated all his guests. He vowed that, willing or unwilling, she would marry the first man that came to the door.
Two days later a travelling fiddler came by the castle. He began to play under the window and begged for money and when the king heard him, he said, 'Let him come in.'
So, they brought the dirty-looking fellow in and, when he had sung before the king and the princess, he begged for a gift.
The king said, 'You have sung so well that I will give you my daughter to take as your wife.'
The princess begged and prayed; but the king said, 'I have sworn to give you to the first man who came to the door, and I will keep my word.'
Words and tears were to no avail; the parson was sent for, and she was married to the fiddler.
When this was over, the king said, 'Now get ready to leave -- you must not stay here -- you must travel with your husband.'
So the fiddler left the castle, and took the princess with him.
Soon they came to a great wood.
'Pray,' she said, 'whose is this wood?'
'It belongs to King Grisly-beard,' he answered; 'hadst thou taken him, all would have been thine.'
'Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!' she sighed; 'would that I had married King Grisly-beard!'
Next they came to some fine meadows.
'Whose are these beautiful green meadows?' she said.
'They belong to King Grisly-beard, hadst thou taken him, they would all have been thine.'
'Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!' she said; 'would that I had married King Grisly-beard!'
Then they came to a great city. 'Whose is this noble city?' she said.
'It belongs to King Grisly-beard; hadst thou taken him, it would all have been thine.'
'Ah! wretch that I am!' she sighed; 'why did I not marry King Grisly-beard?'
'That is no business of mine,' said the fiddler, 'why should you wish for another husband? Am I not good enough for you?'
At last they came to a small cottage. 'What a paltry place!' she said; 'to whom does that little dirty hole belong?'
The fiddler said, 'That is your and my house, where we are to live.'
'Where are your servants?' she cried.
'What do we want with servants?' he said; 'you must do for yourself whatever is to be done. Now make the fire, and put on water and cook my supper, for I am very tired.'
But the princess knew nothing of making fires and cooking, and the fiddler was forced to help her.
When they had eaten a very scanty meal they went to bed; but the fiddler called her up very early in the morning to clean the house.
They lived like that for two days and when they had eaten up all there was in the cottage, the man said, 'Wife, we can't go on thus, spending money and earning nothing. You must learn to weave baskets.'
Then the fiddler went out and cut willows, and brought them home, and she began to weave; but it made her fingers very sore.
'I see this work won't do,' he said, 'try and spin; perhaps you will do that better.'
So she sat down and tried to spin; but the threads cut her tender fingers until the blood ran.
'See now,' said the fiddler, 'you are good for nothing; you can do no work. What a bargain I have got! However, I'll try and set up a trade in pots and pans, and you shall stand in the market and sell them.'
'Alas!' she sighed, 'if any of my father's court should pass by and see me standing in the market, how they will laugh at me!'
But her husband did not care about that, and said she would have to work if she did not want to die of hunger.
At first the trade went well because many people, seeing such a beautiful woman, went to buy her wares and paid their money without even thinking of taking away the goods. They lived on this as long as it lasted and then her husband bought a fresh lot of pots and pans, and she sat herself down with it in the corner of the market.
However, soon a drunken soldier soon came by and rode his horse against her stall and broke all her goods into a thousand pieces.
She began to cry, and did not know what to do. 'Ah! what will become of me?' she said; 'what will my husband say?' So she ran home and told him everything.
'Who would have thought you would have been so silly,' he said, 'as to put an earthenware stall in the corner of the market, where everybody passes? But let us have no more crying; I see you are not fit for this sort of work, so I have been to the king's palace, and asked if they did not want a kitchen-maid; and they say they will take you, and there you will have plenty to eat.'
So the princess became a kitchen-maid and helped the cook to do all the dirtiest work. She was allowed to carry home some of the meat that was left over, and they lived on that.
She had not been there long before she heard that the king's eldest son was passing by, on his way to get married. She went to one of the windows and looked out. Everything was ready and all the pomp and brightness of the court was there. Seeing it, she grieved bitterly for the pride and folly that had brought her so low. The servants gave her some of the rich meats and she put them into her basket to take home.
All of a sudden, as she was leaving, in came the king's son in his golden clothes. When he saw such a beautiful woman at the door, he took her by the hand and said she should be his partner in the dance. She trembled with fear because she saw that it was King Grisly-beard, who was making fun of her. However, he kept hold of her, and led her into the hall. As she entered, the cover of the basket came off, and the meats in it fell out. Everybody laughed and jeered at her and she was so ashamed that she wished she were a thousand feet deep in the earth. She sprang over to the door so that she could run away but on the steps King Grisly-beard overtook her, brought her back and said:
'Fear me not! I am the fiddler who has lived with you in the hut. I brought you there because I truly loved you. I am also the soldier that overset your stall. I have done all this only to cure you of your silly pride, and to show you the folly of your ill-treatment of me. Now it is all over: you have learnt wisdom, and it is time to hold our marriage feast.'
Then the chamberlains came and brought her the most beautiful robes. Her father and his whole court were already there, and they welcomed her home. Joy was in every face and every heart. The feast was grand; they danced and sang; everyone was merry; and I only wish that you and I had been there.
Mr Sticky
No one knew how Mr. Sticky got in the fish tank.
"He's very small," Mum said as she peered at the tiny water snail. "Just a black dot."
"He'll grow," said Abby and pulled her pyjama bottoms up again before she got into bed. They were always falling down.
In the morning Abby jumped out of bed and switched on the light in her fish tank.
Gerry, the fat orange goldfish, was dozing inside the stone archway. Jaws was already awake, swimming along the front of the tank with his white tail floating and twitching. It took Abby a while to find Mr. Sticky because he was clinging to the glass near the bottom, right next to the gravel.
At school that day she wrote about the mysterious Mr. Sticky who was so small you could mistake him for a piece of gravel. Some of the girls in her class said he seemed an ideal pet for her and kept giggling about it.
That night Abby turned on the light to find Mr. Sticky clinging to the very tiniest, waviest tip of the pond weed. It was near the water filter so he was bobbing about in the air bubbles.
"That looks fun," Abby said. She tried to imagine what it must be like to have to hang on to things all day and decided it was probably very tiring. She fed the fish then lay on her bed and watched them chase each other round and round the archway. When they stopped Gerry began nibbling at the pond weed with his big pouty lips. He sucked Mr. Sticky into his mouth then blew him back out again in a stream of water. The snail floated down to the bottom of the tank among the coloured gravel.
"I think he's grown a bit," Abby told her Mum at breakfast the next day.
"Just as well if he's going to be gobbled up like that," her Mum said, trying to put on her coat and eat toast at the same time.
"But I don't want him to get too big or he won't be cute anymore. Small things are cute aren't they?"
"Yes they are. But big things can be cute too. Now hurry up, I'm going to miss my train."
At school that day, Abby drew an elephant. She needed two pieces of expensive paper to do both ends but the teacher didn't mind because she was pleased with the drawing and wanted it on the wall. They sellotaped them together, right across the elephant's middle. In the corner of the picture, Abby wrote her full name, Abigail, and drew tiny snails for the dots on the 'i's The teacher said that was very creative.
At the weekend they cleaned out the tank. "There's a lot of algae on the sides," Mum said. "I'm not sure Mr. Sticky's quite up to the job yet."
They scooped the fish out and put them in a bowl while they emptied some of the water. Mr. Sticky stayed out of the way, clinging to the glass while Mum used the special 'vacuum cleaner' to clean the gravel. Abby trimmed the new pieces of pond weed down to size and scrubbed the archway and the filter tube. Mum poured new water into the tank.
"Where's Mr. Sticky?" Abby asked.
"On the side," Mum said. She was busy concentrating on the water. "Don't worry I was careful."
Abby looked on all sides of the tank. There was no sign of the water snail.
"He's probably in the gravel then," her mum said. "Come on let's get this finished. I've got work to do." She plopped the fish back in the clean water where they swam round and round, looking puzzled.
That evening Abby went up to her bedroom to check the tank. The water had settled and looked lovely and clear but there was no sign of Mr. Sticky. She lay on her bed and did some exercises, stretching out her legs and feet and pointing her toes. Stretching was good for your muscles and made you look tall a model had said on the t.v. and she looked enormous. When Abby had finished, she kneeled down to have another look in the tank but there was still no sign of Mr. Sticky. She went downstairs.
Her mum was in the study surrounded by papers. She had her glasses on and her hair was all over the place where she'd been running her hands through it. She looked impatient when she saw Abby in the doorway and even more impatient when she heard the bad news.
"He'll turn up." was all she said. "Now off to bed Abby. I've got masses of work to catch up on."
Abby felt her face go hot and red. It always happened when she was angry or upset.
"You've hoovered him up haven't you," she said. You were in such a rush you hoovered him up."
"I have not. I was very careful. But he is extremely small."
"What's wrong with being small?"
"Nothing at all. But it makes things hard to find."
"Or notice," Abby said and ran from the room.
The door to the bedroom opened and Mum's face appeared around the crack. Abby tried to ignore her but it was hard when she walked over to the bed and sat next to her. She was holding her glasses in her hand. She waved them at Abby.
"These are my new pair," she said. "Extra powerful, for snail hunting." She smiled at Abby. Abby tried not to smile back.
"And I've got a magnifying glass," Abby suddenly remembered and rushed off to find it.
They sat beside each other on the floor. On their knees they shuffled around the tank, peering into the corners among the big pebbles, at the gravel and the pondweed.
"Ah ha!" Mum suddenly cried.
"What?" Abby moved her magnifying glass to where her mum was pointing.
There, tucked in the curve of the archway, perfectly hidden against the dark stone, sat Mr. Sticky. And right next to him was another water snail, even smaller than him.
"Mrs Sticky!" Abby breathed. "But where did she come from?"
"I'm beginning to suspect the pond weed don't you think?"
They both laughed and climbed into Abby's bed together, cuddling down under the duvet. It was cozy but a bit of a squeeze.
"Budge up," Mum said, giving Abby a push with her bottom.
"I can't, I'm already on the edge."
"My goodness you've grown then. When did that happen? You could have put an elephant in here last time we did this."
Abby put her head on her mum's chest and smiled.
"He's very small," Mum said as she peered at the tiny water snail. "Just a black dot."
"He'll grow," said Abby and pulled her pyjama bottoms up again before she got into bed. They were always falling down.
In the morning Abby jumped out of bed and switched on the light in her fish tank.
Gerry, the fat orange goldfish, was dozing inside the stone archway. Jaws was already awake, swimming along the front of the tank with his white tail floating and twitching. It took Abby a while to find Mr. Sticky because he was clinging to the glass near the bottom, right next to the gravel.
At school that day she wrote about the mysterious Mr. Sticky who was so small you could mistake him for a piece of gravel. Some of the girls in her class said he seemed an ideal pet for her and kept giggling about it.
That night Abby turned on the light to find Mr. Sticky clinging to the very tiniest, waviest tip of the pond weed. It was near the water filter so he was bobbing about in the air bubbles.
"That looks fun," Abby said. She tried to imagine what it must be like to have to hang on to things all day and decided it was probably very tiring. She fed the fish then lay on her bed and watched them chase each other round and round the archway. When they stopped Gerry began nibbling at the pond weed with his big pouty lips. He sucked Mr. Sticky into his mouth then blew him back out again in a stream of water. The snail floated down to the bottom of the tank among the coloured gravel.
"I think he's grown a bit," Abby told her Mum at breakfast the next day.
"Just as well if he's going to be gobbled up like that," her Mum said, trying to put on her coat and eat toast at the same time.
"But I don't want him to get too big or he won't be cute anymore. Small things are cute aren't they?"
"Yes they are. But big things can be cute too. Now hurry up, I'm going to miss my train."
At school that day, Abby drew an elephant. She needed two pieces of expensive paper to do both ends but the teacher didn't mind because she was pleased with the drawing and wanted it on the wall. They sellotaped them together, right across the elephant's middle. In the corner of the picture, Abby wrote her full name, Abigail, and drew tiny snails for the dots on the 'i's The teacher said that was very creative.
At the weekend they cleaned out the tank. "There's a lot of algae on the sides," Mum said. "I'm not sure Mr. Sticky's quite up to the job yet."
They scooped the fish out and put them in a bowl while they emptied some of the water. Mr. Sticky stayed out of the way, clinging to the glass while Mum used the special 'vacuum cleaner' to clean the gravel. Abby trimmed the new pieces of pond weed down to size and scrubbed the archway and the filter tube. Mum poured new water into the tank.
"Where's Mr. Sticky?" Abby asked.
"On the side," Mum said. She was busy concentrating on the water. "Don't worry I was careful."
Abby looked on all sides of the tank. There was no sign of the water snail.
"He's probably in the gravel then," her mum said. "Come on let's get this finished. I've got work to do." She plopped the fish back in the clean water where they swam round and round, looking puzzled.
That evening Abby went up to her bedroom to check the tank. The water had settled and looked lovely and clear but there was no sign of Mr. Sticky. She lay on her bed and did some exercises, stretching out her legs and feet and pointing her toes. Stretching was good for your muscles and made you look tall a model had said on the t.v. and she looked enormous. When Abby had finished, she kneeled down to have another look in the tank but there was still no sign of Mr. Sticky. She went downstairs.
Her mum was in the study surrounded by papers. She had her glasses on and her hair was all over the place where she'd been running her hands through it. She looked impatient when she saw Abby in the doorway and even more impatient when she heard the bad news.
"He'll turn up." was all she said. "Now off to bed Abby. I've got masses of work to catch up on."
Abby felt her face go hot and red. It always happened when she was angry or upset.
"You've hoovered him up haven't you," she said. You were in such a rush you hoovered him up."
"I have not. I was very careful. But he is extremely small."
"What's wrong with being small?"
"Nothing at all. But it makes things hard to find."
"Or notice," Abby said and ran from the room.
The door to the bedroom opened and Mum's face appeared around the crack. Abby tried to ignore her but it was hard when she walked over to the bed and sat next to her. She was holding her glasses in her hand. She waved them at Abby.
"These are my new pair," she said. "Extra powerful, for snail hunting." She smiled at Abby. Abby tried not to smile back.
"And I've got a magnifying glass," Abby suddenly remembered and rushed off to find it.
They sat beside each other on the floor. On their knees they shuffled around the tank, peering into the corners among the big pebbles, at the gravel and the pondweed.
"Ah ha!" Mum suddenly cried.
"What?" Abby moved her magnifying glass to where her mum was pointing.
There, tucked in the curve of the archway, perfectly hidden against the dark stone, sat Mr. Sticky. And right next to him was another water snail, even smaller than him.
"Mrs Sticky!" Abby breathed. "But where did she come from?"
"I'm beginning to suspect the pond weed don't you think?"
They both laughed and climbed into Abby's bed together, cuddling down under the duvet. It was cozy but a bit of a squeeze.
"Budge up," Mum said, giving Abby a push with her bottom.
"I can't, I'm already on the edge."
"My goodness you've grown then. When did that happen? You could have put an elephant in here last time we did this."
Abby put her head on her mum's chest and smiled.
This is the story of Nestor the Long Earred Donkey
When Nestor was a little donkey all the other donkeys laughed at him because of his very long ears. His mother was always saying "Ears Nestor"! One day the owner put Nestor out into the cold and snowy night. Well, I mean to tell you, Nestor's mother became very upset, and caused a big scene. She kicked and brayed and darted right out of that shelter. Yes, she left the warmth of the stable to find and protect her son.
When at last she did find him, (She saw his ears sticking up out of a snow bank) she laid her body over Nestor to protect him from the cold. At last the storm passed and the sun came out, but poor Nestor had no mommy, she had given up her life to save her son.
Poor Nestor began to cry, he just wandered around with no place to go and no one to love him.
One day, when he was really lonely and feeling sorry for himself, do you know what happened? A little cherub who's name was Tille, came right down out of the sky. She sure took Nestor by surprise. Tille was sent to make sure Nestor got wherever it was that God wanted him to go. This puzzled Nestor, because he could not imagine what good he could be to anyone. But Tille said:
"Your ears can do a wondrous thing
No other ears can do
The sounds they hear will guide you
On a path that's straight and true
And you will save another
As your mother once saved you."
They had a long journey ahead of them. For Nestor had to go to a place called Bethlehem. That was far away. Nestor and Tille had lots of fun. They played in deep cold snow drifts, frolicked in the refreshing cool rain, and danced through green, sweet smelling meadows. They trudged up mountain sides, and floated across the waters as the seasons passed and they got closer and closer. The animals on the way laughed at Nestor, but he did not care anymore, for he had found a friend. He had found someone who loved him.
All of a sudden, WHAM! Tille told Nestor she had to leave him, to go home, but she would return. Nestor didn't understand at all. Tlhey were not at Bethlehem, how would he get there without her? Tille smiled, and said,
"You will know when the time is right. And I will come back then"
So Nestor was alone again. He was taken in by a merchant, a dealer in animals, and given a place in his stables. Oh yes, the other animals laughed and made jokes about his long ears.
"Look at little Nestor
He has ears that drag the ground
They whispered as they mocked him
But he heard every sound.
Nestor's heart was broken
His eyes were full of tears
If only there was something
He could do about his ears.
Poor Nestor wanted Tille back so badly. He could not stand this new lonliness much longer. But wait! There was someone at the stable door! No, not someone, there were two someones, a man and a woman. The woman looked so very tired. Carefully they looked over the animals, and YEP! you got it! They chose Nestor over all the other animals there. Of course Nestor did not even think of his ears. He was someone special. He was chosen. The inn keeper felt sorry for Mary and Joseph and gave the little donkey to them. At last Nestor was on the way to Bethlehem again.
But it was a hard journey. The nights were bitter and Nestor's ears had to wrap around the tired one who sat on his back, to protect her. Then a terrible, terrible windstorm came up, and they lost sight of the star they were following. Oh dear, what were they to do. Nestor's ears shot straight up. He thought he heard something. He did, He heard Tille. And in a glowing vision he saw her:
"Your ears can do a wondrous thing
No other ears can do
The sounds they hear will guide you
On a path that's straight and true
And you will save another
As your mother once saved you."
And even more wondrous, he saw his mother. She smiled at him and told him to follow the song of the angels. Tears fell from Nestor's eyes as he promised he would follow, and he heard his mother's voice "Ears Nestor".
Nestor had a secret
Only he could hear the sound
As the angels gave directions
To the ears that dragged the ground
This was a new, proud Nestor. For he knew that on his back was a very special person, and he had been chosen for a very special reason. He had been chosen because his long ears could hear directions, and could also shelter Mary from the wind and cold. Oh yes, Nestor walked very proudly. And he did not even mind it when he would hear: Ears Nestor.
At last they arrived in Bethlehem, and since there was not a room to be had anywhere, Nestor found them a cozy place in a stable, where they would be warm and protected. He had done his job well.
And so it was that Nestor
Found the manger where they stayed
Where kings and wisemen bowed before
A baby where he layed
Mary bore our Saviour
Nestor brought them there
A gift of love from God above
For all the world to share.
Now the animals were singing a new song. They didn't laugh at Nestor anymore, for news got around of how his long ears had saved Mary and her newborn baby. They became his friends, and froliced and played and sang of his praises.
Look at little Nestor
He's got ears that drag the ground
They shouted as they praised him
And his friends all gathered round
Nestor's heart was happy
His eyes held no more tears
Now all the world knows Nestor
For his lughter and his ears.
EARS, NESTOR!
When at last she did find him, (She saw his ears sticking up out of a snow bank) she laid her body over Nestor to protect him from the cold. At last the storm passed and the sun came out, but poor Nestor had no mommy, she had given up her life to save her son.
Poor Nestor began to cry, he just wandered around with no place to go and no one to love him.
One day, when he was really lonely and feeling sorry for himself, do you know what happened? A little cherub who's name was Tille, came right down out of the sky. She sure took Nestor by surprise. Tille was sent to make sure Nestor got wherever it was that God wanted him to go. This puzzled Nestor, because he could not imagine what good he could be to anyone. But Tille said:
"Your ears can do a wondrous thing
No other ears can do
The sounds they hear will guide you
On a path that's straight and true
And you will save another
As your mother once saved you."
They had a long journey ahead of them. For Nestor had to go to a place called Bethlehem. That was far away. Nestor and Tille had lots of fun. They played in deep cold snow drifts, frolicked in the refreshing cool rain, and danced through green, sweet smelling meadows. They trudged up mountain sides, and floated across the waters as the seasons passed and they got closer and closer. The animals on the way laughed at Nestor, but he did not care anymore, for he had found a friend. He had found someone who loved him.
All of a sudden, WHAM! Tille told Nestor she had to leave him, to go home, but she would return. Nestor didn't understand at all. Tlhey were not at Bethlehem, how would he get there without her? Tille smiled, and said,
"You will know when the time is right. And I will come back then"
So Nestor was alone again. He was taken in by a merchant, a dealer in animals, and given a place in his stables. Oh yes, the other animals laughed and made jokes about his long ears.
"Look at little Nestor
He has ears that drag the ground
They whispered as they mocked him
But he heard every sound.
Nestor's heart was broken
His eyes were full of tears
If only there was something
He could do about his ears.
Poor Nestor wanted Tille back so badly. He could not stand this new lonliness much longer. But wait! There was someone at the stable door! No, not someone, there were two someones, a man and a woman. The woman looked so very tired. Carefully they looked over the animals, and YEP! you got it! They chose Nestor over all the other animals there. Of course Nestor did not even think of his ears. He was someone special. He was chosen. The inn keeper felt sorry for Mary and Joseph and gave the little donkey to them. At last Nestor was on the way to Bethlehem again.
But it was a hard journey. The nights were bitter and Nestor's ears had to wrap around the tired one who sat on his back, to protect her. Then a terrible, terrible windstorm came up, and they lost sight of the star they were following. Oh dear, what were they to do. Nestor's ears shot straight up. He thought he heard something. He did, He heard Tille. And in a glowing vision he saw her:
"Your ears can do a wondrous thing
No other ears can do
The sounds they hear will guide you
On a path that's straight and true
And you will save another
As your mother once saved you."
And even more wondrous, he saw his mother. She smiled at him and told him to follow the song of the angels. Tears fell from Nestor's eyes as he promised he would follow, and he heard his mother's voice "Ears Nestor".
Nestor had a secret
Only he could hear the sound
As the angels gave directions
To the ears that dragged the ground
This was a new, proud Nestor. For he knew that on his back was a very special person, and he had been chosen for a very special reason. He had been chosen because his long ears could hear directions, and could also shelter Mary from the wind and cold. Oh yes, Nestor walked very proudly. And he did not even mind it when he would hear: Ears Nestor.
At last they arrived in Bethlehem, and since there was not a room to be had anywhere, Nestor found them a cozy place in a stable, where they would be warm and protected. He had done his job well.
And so it was that Nestor
Found the manger where they stayed
Where kings and wisemen bowed before
A baby where he layed
Mary bore our Saviour
Nestor brought them there
A gift of love from God above
For all the world to share.
Now the animals were singing a new song. They didn't laugh at Nestor anymore, for news got around of how his long ears had saved Mary and her newborn baby. They became his friends, and froliced and played and sang of his praises.
Look at little Nestor
He's got ears that drag the ground
They shouted as they praised him
And his friends all gathered round
Nestor's heart was happy
His eyes held no more tears
Now all the world knows Nestor
For his lughter and his ears.
EARS, NESTOR!
Right and Might
WHILE a deer was eating wild fruit, he heard an owl call "Haak, haak" (a spear), and a cricket cry, "Wat" (surrounded), and, frightened, he fled. In his flight he ran through the trees up into the mountains and into streams. In one of the streams the deer stepped upon a small fish and crushed it almost to death. Then the fish complained to the court, and the deer, owl, cricket, and fish had a lawsuit. In the trial came out this evidence:
As the deer fled, he ran into some dry grass, and the seed fell into the eye of a wild chicken, and the pain of the seed in the eye of the chicken caused it to fly up against a nest of red ants. Alarmed, the red ants flew out to do battle, and in their haste, bit a mongoose. The mongoose ran into a vine of wild fruit and shook several pieces of it on the head of a hermit who sat thinking under a tree. "Why did you, O fruit, fall on my head?" cried the hermit. The fruit answered: "We did not wish to fall; a mongoose ran against our vine and threw us down." And the hermit asked, " O mongoose, why did you throw the fruit?" The mongoose answered: "I did not wish to throw down the fruit, but the red ants bit me, and I ran against the vine." The hermit asked, " O ants, why did you bite the mongoose?" The red ants replied: "The hen flew against our nest and angered us." The hermit asked: " O hen, why did you fly against the red ants' nest?" And the hen replied: "The seed fell into my eyes and hurt me." And the hermit asked, " O seed, why did you fall into the hen's eyes?" And the seed replied: "The deer shook me down." The hermit said unto the deer, "O deer, why did you shake down the seed?" The deer answered: "I did not wish to do it, but the owl called, frightening me, and I ran." "O owl," asked the hermit, "why did you frighten the deer?" The owl replied: "I called, but as I am accustomed to call---the cricket, too, called."
Having heard the evidence, the judge said, "The cricket must replace the crushed parts of the fish and make it well," as he, the cricket, had called and frightened the deer. The cricket was smaller and weaker than the owl or the deer, therefore had to bear the penalty.
As the deer fled, he ran into some dry grass, and the seed fell into the eye of a wild chicken, and the pain of the seed in the eye of the chicken caused it to fly up against a nest of red ants. Alarmed, the red ants flew out to do battle, and in their haste, bit a mongoose. The mongoose ran into a vine of wild fruit and shook several pieces of it on the head of a hermit who sat thinking under a tree. "Why did you, O fruit, fall on my head?" cried the hermit. The fruit answered: "We did not wish to fall; a mongoose ran against our vine and threw us down." And the hermit asked, " O mongoose, why did you throw the fruit?" The mongoose answered: "I did not wish to throw down the fruit, but the red ants bit me, and I ran against the vine." The hermit asked, " O ants, why did you bite the mongoose?" The red ants replied: "The hen flew against our nest and angered us." The hermit asked: " O hen, why did you fly against the red ants' nest?" And the hen replied: "The seed fell into my eyes and hurt me." And the hermit asked, " O seed, why did you fall into the hen's eyes?" And the seed replied: "The deer shook me down." The hermit said unto the deer, "O deer, why did you shake down the seed?" The deer answered: "I did not wish to do it, but the owl called, frightening me, and I ran." "O owl," asked the hermit, "why did you frighten the deer?" The owl replied: "I called, but as I am accustomed to call---the cricket, too, called."
Having heard the evidence, the judge said, "The cricket must replace the crushed parts of the fish and make it well," as he, the cricket, had called and frightened the deer. The cricket was smaller and weaker than the owl or the deer, therefore had to bear the penalty.
Monday, June 1, 2009
The Washerman and The Donkey
A STORY is told of an over-credulous washerman who was childless. This preyed upon his mind very much and was a permanent cause of unhappiness. One day, in the course of his work, he went to the house of the town kazi (or magistrate). He heard the kazi reproaching one of his pupils in this wise: "Not long ago you were a jackass; I made a man of you," etc. The washer-man did not wait to hear the rest. He hastened home with all speed and told his wife that he had made a discovery which they were to lose no time in utilizing. "The kazi, my dear," said the washerman, "can make a man of a donkey. Why should we fret any longer for a child? Let us take our donkey to him and beg of him to transform him." The washerman and his wife, with their donkey, were shortly after this conversation on their way to the kazi.
Their mission being explained with many supplications, the kazi, quick-sighted, and with an eye to business, accepted the charge, and promised to effect the metamorphosis in a year. The washerman on his part promised to give his services free for that period. A year passed in waiting and in happy hopes. On the appointed day the washerman and his companion presented themselves before the kazi. The kazi took them aside and pointed out a strong young man among his pupils. "There," he whispered to the washerman, "is your donkey. You see the change: now persuade him and take him home." The washerman and his wife flew to their newly created son, and with many endearing terms prepared to embrace him and made other affectionate advances. Amazed at this unaccountable conduct of these low people, the lad resisted at first, but as they persisted, he grew furious. After receiving many a cuff from the lad, a happy idea struck the washerman's wife: turning to her husband she said, "Go you and fetch his peg, rope, and grain-bag; perhaps they may remind him of what he was once." The washerman in hot haste went home and fetched them. But it seemed to make matters worse. The washerman held up each of these articles to the young man's view, and said, in the most persuasive tone he could command, "Come home, my son. Do you forget the day you were my donkey? This was the peg to which I would tether you, this your tether rope, and this your food-bag; come to your home!" By this time a jeering crowd had gathered round the young man, and this so infuriated him that he turned to and gave the washerman the soundest thrashing he had ever received in his life. The poor dupe of a washerman---the story says---went home thoroughly convinced that what fate had ordained it was useless to fight against, looking upon his punishment as a just return for his presumption.
Their mission being explained with many supplications, the kazi, quick-sighted, and with an eye to business, accepted the charge, and promised to effect the metamorphosis in a year. The washerman on his part promised to give his services free for that period. A year passed in waiting and in happy hopes. On the appointed day the washerman and his companion presented themselves before the kazi. The kazi took them aside and pointed out a strong young man among his pupils. "There," he whispered to the washerman, "is your donkey. You see the change: now persuade him and take him home." The washerman and his wife flew to their newly created son, and with many endearing terms prepared to embrace him and made other affectionate advances. Amazed at this unaccountable conduct of these low people, the lad resisted at first, but as they persisted, he grew furious. After receiving many a cuff from the lad, a happy idea struck the washerman's wife: turning to her husband she said, "Go you and fetch his peg, rope, and grain-bag; perhaps they may remind him of what he was once." The washerman in hot haste went home and fetched them. But it seemed to make matters worse. The washerman held up each of these articles to the young man's view, and said, in the most persuasive tone he could command, "Come home, my son. Do you forget the day you were my donkey? This was the peg to which I would tether you, this your tether rope, and this your food-bag; come to your home!" By this time a jeering crowd had gathered round the young man, and this so infuriated him that he turned to and gave the washerman the soundest thrashing he had ever received in his life. The poor dupe of a washerman---the story says---went home thoroughly convinced that what fate had ordained it was useless to fight against, looking upon his punishment as a just return for his presumption.
DETERMINATON
In 1883, a creative engineer named John Roebling was inspired by an idea to build a spectacular bridge connecting New York with the Long Island. However bridge building experts throughout the world thought that this was an impossible feat and told Roebling to forget the idea. It just could not be done. It was not practical. It had never been done before.
Roebling could not ignore the vision he had in his mind of this bridge. He thought about it all the time and he knew deep in his heart that it could be done. He just had to share the dream with someone else. After much discussion and persuasion he managed to convince his son Washington, an up and coming engineer, that the bridge in fact could be built.
Working together for the first time, the father and son developed concepts of how it could be accomplished and how the obstacles could be overcome. With great excitement and inspiration, and the headiness of a wild challenge before them, they hired their crew and began to build their dream bridge.
The project started well, but when it was only a few months underway a tragic accident on the site took the life of John Roebling. Washington was injured and left with a certain amount of brain damage, which resulted in him not being able to walk or talk or even move.
"We told them so."
"Crazy men and their crazy dreams."
"It`s foolish to chase wild visions."
Everyone had a negative comment to make and felt that the project should be scrapped since the Roeblings were the only ones who knew how the bridge could be built. In spite of his handicap Washington was never discouraged and still had a burning desire to complete the bridge and his mind was still as sharp as ever.
He tried to inspire and pass on his enthusiasm to some of his friends, but they were too daunted by the task. As he lay on his bed in his hospital room, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, a gentle breeze blew the flimsy white curtains apart and he was able to see the sky and the tops of the trees outside for just a moment.
It seemed that there was a message for him not to give up. Suddenly an idea hit him. All he could do was move one finger and he decided to make the best use of it. By moving this, he slowly developed a code of communication with his wife.
He touched his wife's arm with that finger, indicating to her that he wanted her to call the engineers again. Then he used the same method of tapping her arm to tell the engineers what to do. It seemed foolish but the project was under way again.
For 13 years Washington tapped out his instructions with his finger on his wife's arm, until the bridge was finally completed. Today the spectacular Brooklyn Bridge stands in all its glory as a tribute to the triumph of one man's indomitable spirit and his determination not to be defeated by circumstances. It is also a tribute to the engineers and their team work, and to their faith in a man who was considered mad by half the world. It stands too as a tangible monument to the love and devotion of his wife who for 13 long years patiently decoded the messages of her husband and told the engineers what to do.
Perhaps this is one of the best examples of a never-say-die attitude that overcomes a terrible physical handicap and achieves an impossible goal.
Often when we face obstacles in our day-to-day life, our hurdles seem very small in comparison to what many others have to face. The Brooklyn Bridge shows us that dreams that seem impossible can be realised with determination and persistence, no matter what the odds are.
Even the most distant dream can be realized with determination and persistence.
The Window" (Author unknown)
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the outside world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should hehave all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything? It didn't seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window - and that thought now controlled his life.
Late one night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and choking stopped, along with the sound of breathing. Now, there was only silence--deathly silence.
The following morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away--no words, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.
Moral of the story:
The pursuit of happiness is a matter of choice...it is a positive attitude we consciously choose to express. It is not a gift that gets delivered to our doorstep each morning, nor does it come through the window. And I am certain that our circumstances are just a small part of what makes us joyful. If we wait for them to get just right, we will never find lasting joy.
The pursuit of happiness is an inward journey. Our minds are like programs, awaiting the code that will determine behaviors; like bank vaults awaiting our deposits. If we regularly deposit positive, encouraging, and uplifting thoughts, if we continue to bite our lips just before we begin to grumble and complain, if we shoot down that seemingly harmless negative thought as it germinates, we will find that there is much to rejoice about.
Roebling could not ignore the vision he had in his mind of this bridge. He thought about it all the time and he knew deep in his heart that it could be done. He just had to share the dream with someone else. After much discussion and persuasion he managed to convince his son Washington, an up and coming engineer, that the bridge in fact could be built.
Working together for the first time, the father and son developed concepts of how it could be accomplished and how the obstacles could be overcome. With great excitement and inspiration, and the headiness of a wild challenge before them, they hired their crew and began to build their dream bridge.
The project started well, but when it was only a few months underway a tragic accident on the site took the life of John Roebling. Washington was injured and left with a certain amount of brain damage, which resulted in him not being able to walk or talk or even move.
"We told them so."
"Crazy men and their crazy dreams."
"It`s foolish to chase wild visions."
Everyone had a negative comment to make and felt that the project should be scrapped since the Roeblings were the only ones who knew how the bridge could be built. In spite of his handicap Washington was never discouraged and still had a burning desire to complete the bridge and his mind was still as sharp as ever.
He tried to inspire and pass on his enthusiasm to some of his friends, but they were too daunted by the task. As he lay on his bed in his hospital room, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, a gentle breeze blew the flimsy white curtains apart and he was able to see the sky and the tops of the trees outside for just a moment.
It seemed that there was a message for him not to give up. Suddenly an idea hit him. All he could do was move one finger and he decided to make the best use of it. By moving this, he slowly developed a code of communication with his wife.
He touched his wife's arm with that finger, indicating to her that he wanted her to call the engineers again. Then he used the same method of tapping her arm to tell the engineers what to do. It seemed foolish but the project was under way again.
For 13 years Washington tapped out his instructions with his finger on his wife's arm, until the bridge was finally completed. Today the spectacular Brooklyn Bridge stands in all its glory as a tribute to the triumph of one man's indomitable spirit and his determination not to be defeated by circumstances. It is also a tribute to the engineers and their team work, and to their faith in a man who was considered mad by half the world. It stands too as a tangible monument to the love and devotion of his wife who for 13 long years patiently decoded the messages of her husband and told the engineers what to do.
Perhaps this is one of the best examples of a never-say-die attitude that overcomes a terrible physical handicap and achieves an impossible goal.
Often when we face obstacles in our day-to-day life, our hurdles seem very small in comparison to what many others have to face. The Brooklyn Bridge shows us that dreams that seem impossible can be realised with determination and persistence, no matter what the odds are.
Even the most distant dream can be realized with determination and persistence.
The Window" (Author unknown)
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the outside world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should hehave all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything? It didn't seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window - and that thought now controlled his life.
Late one night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and choking stopped, along with the sound of breathing. Now, there was only silence--deathly silence.
The following morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away--no words, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.
Moral of the story:
The pursuit of happiness is a matter of choice...it is a positive attitude we consciously choose to express. It is not a gift that gets delivered to our doorstep each morning, nor does it come through the window. And I am certain that our circumstances are just a small part of what makes us joyful. If we wait for them to get just right, we will never find lasting joy.
The pursuit of happiness is an inward journey. Our minds are like programs, awaiting the code that will determine behaviors; like bank vaults awaiting our deposits. If we regularly deposit positive, encouraging, and uplifting thoughts, if we continue to bite our lips just before we begin to grumble and complain, if we shoot down that seemingly harmless negative thought as it germinates, we will find that there is much to rejoice about.
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