Emily Faith born 12/06/2006 at 3:12 pm. 6lbs 11oz and 19 in. long
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Ponderings
Howdy y'all. Well, it's only four weeks until the new baby will be here. Man time really flies and there is still a lot to do. Angel and I finally got to go on our honeymoon a few weeks ago. We went for the weekend to a local bed and breakfast and had a great time. We did end up with a funny story though. Her sister, Codi, had to come by our house to pick up some things so we gave her the code to the alarm system. She put the code in wrong and set the alarm off. She called us so we could talk to the police when they showed up. We came up with one of those Mastercard commercials: Small wedding: $200, Wonderful honeymoon: $200, having to leave your honeymoon to reset your alarm and talk to the police: Priceless.
Ok time for a little rant. Halloween has just passed and I'm bothered by something. Why do we spend so much money on costumes? What happened to the days when we made our own costumes? For me, that was one of the great things about Halloween. I loved making my own costumes and trying to pick out something different each year. I was a pirate, a hobo and many other things. This year our daughter went as a Bratz doll and she loved it. She had the clothes and Angel fixed her hair and make-up. She looked really cute and we didn't spend any money. The people she went to trick-or-treating really loved her costumes and the ones I enjoyed the most were the ones who made their own. this world has gotten so commercialized that all of the holidays have lost their meanings.
I hope that the saying is true about things from the past coming back around and I hope that I am still alive to see it. It would be nice to see us return to the world I remember from my youth so I can experience it one last time.
Always remember what you loved about growing up and pass those experiences on to your children. It can start with us and we can change the world. Goodnight all and talk to y'all later.
Ok time for a little rant. Halloween has just passed and I'm bothered by something. Why do we spend so much money on costumes? What happened to the days when we made our own costumes? For me, that was one of the great things about Halloween. I loved making my own costumes and trying to pick out something different each year. I was a pirate, a hobo and many other things. This year our daughter went as a Bratz doll and she loved it. She had the clothes and Angel fixed her hair and make-up. She looked really cute and we didn't spend any money. The people she went to trick-or-treating really loved her costumes and the ones I enjoyed the most were the ones who made their own. this world has gotten so commercialized that all of the holidays have lost their meanings.
I hope that the saying is true about things from the past coming back around and I hope that I am still alive to see it. It would be nice to see us return to the world I remember from my youth so I can experience it one last time.
Always remember what you loved about growing up and pass those experiences on to your children. It can start with us and we can change the world. Goodnight all and talk to y'all later.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
An email story
Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much.
He would always greet you with a big smile
and a firm handshake.
Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.
Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us.
He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in W.W.II.
Watching him, we worried that although he had survived W.W.II, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.
When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.
He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened.
He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?"
The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile.
As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.
Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him.
Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are
you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.
Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head.
"Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.
Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"
"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply.
Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.
A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose.
This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water.
When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.
Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering.
The summer was quickly fading into fall Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches.
As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.
"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man
pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.
"What's this?" Carl asked.
"It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet." "I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"
The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment.
"I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.
Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.
He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather.
In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.
The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."
The following spring another flyer went up. It read:
"Person needed to care for Carl's garden."
The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door.
Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.
The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl.
He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around.
As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."
The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done.
In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.
One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."
"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby'name?" "Carl," he replied.
He would always greet you with a big smile
and a firm handshake.
Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.
Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us.
He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in W.W.II.
Watching him, we worried that although he had survived W.W.II, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.
When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.
He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened.
He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?"
The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile.
As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.
Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him.
Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are
you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.
Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head.
"Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.
Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"
"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply.
Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.
A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose.
This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water.
When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.
Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering.
The summer was quickly fading into fall Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches.
As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.
"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man
pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.
"What's this?" Carl asked.
"It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet." "I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"
The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment.
"I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.
Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.
He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather.
In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.
The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."
The following spring another flyer went up. It read:
"Person needed to care for Carl's garden."
The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door.
Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.
The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl.
He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around.
As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."
The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done.
In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.
One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."
"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby'name?" "Carl," he replied.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Remember 9/11
REMEMBER 9/11 AND PRAY FOR THE FAMILIES AND FOR OUR TROOPS THAT THEY COME HOME SAFELY.Photo from: http://www.sparkpage.com
Monday, June 19, 2006
Control Part 1
Howdy Y'all!!! Well, second shift is fixing to start up so I won't be working so much overtime and have more time to do things. I never seem to have enough time to get things done, but I have time to get enough things done.
Which brings me to my topic today. Why do people get so upset when things happen to cause them to change their plans?
I never plan anything and it drives Angel crazy. She says she just doesn't see how I can just go through life by the seat of my pants. Really I don't, I just don't get upset when things happen that are beyond my control. I don't worry about them because there isn't anything I can do about them and that which I can control, I do. (That's another story for another time).
On Fridays, I have a list of things that I would "like" to get done sometime that weekend, but it doesn't really matter if I do. This list includes everything. There is nothing that I have to do. I do it that way because I never know what's going to happen. Friends may drop by, family may come to visit or I just might get up and not feel like doing anything.
Most people aren't like this. They have to have every hour of every day planned out, and if something unexpected happens, they lose it. Why live all our lives on a schedule? Don't most of us spend enough time doing that with work? Why worry about doing it on the weekend?
For me the weekends are my time. Time to do what I want. Time to spend with family and friends. If I have something i need to do like mow the yard then I get up early Saturday morning and do it. Laundry? after the yard. Then I have the rest of my weekend for what ever i want. If it rains then I might not do anything, or I will pull out my list of things I would like to get done sometime or another and see what I want to do off of it. But I don't get upset.
People need to learn to relax and enjoy life. The old saying goes "Stop and smell the roses." Well my saying is "stop and feel the recliner or couch." LOL.
If you're one of these people who plans everything, then plan some time for yourself this week. Who knows, you just might like it and before you know it, you're not scheduling it, you're just doing it. I'm willing to bet that your life will be better for it, and your family will thank you for it.
So take time to chill and talk to y'all later. Bye y'all!!!
Which brings me to my topic today. Why do people get so upset when things happen to cause them to change their plans?
I never plan anything and it drives Angel crazy. She says she just doesn't see how I can just go through life by the seat of my pants. Really I don't, I just don't get upset when things happen that are beyond my control. I don't worry about them because there isn't anything I can do about them and that which I can control, I do. (That's another story for another time).
On Fridays, I have a list of things that I would "like" to get done sometime that weekend, but it doesn't really matter if I do. This list includes everything. There is nothing that I have to do. I do it that way because I never know what's going to happen. Friends may drop by, family may come to visit or I just might get up and not feel like doing anything.
Most people aren't like this. They have to have every hour of every day planned out, and if something unexpected happens, they lose it. Why live all our lives on a schedule? Don't most of us spend enough time doing that with work? Why worry about doing it on the weekend?
For me the weekends are my time. Time to do what I want. Time to spend with family and friends. If I have something i need to do like mow the yard then I get up early Saturday morning and do it. Laundry? after the yard. Then I have the rest of my weekend for what ever i want. If it rains then I might not do anything, or I will pull out my list of things I would like to get done sometime or another and see what I want to do off of it. But I don't get upset.
People need to learn to relax and enjoy life. The old saying goes "Stop and smell the roses." Well my saying is "stop and feel the recliner or couch." LOL.
If you're one of these people who plans everything, then plan some time for yourself this week. Who knows, you just might like it and before you know it, you're not scheduling it, you're just doing it. I'm willing to bet that your life will be better for it, and your family will thank you for it.
So take time to chill and talk to y'all later. Bye y'all!!!
Monday, June 12, 2006
Mass Insecurity
Howdy y'all. Well, I have a Myspace now and so far it's pretty cool. I had alot of invites when I got home from work, but denied alot of them. Some of them were from people who seem to just automatically send friend requests to everyone. Man they have way too much time on their hands. I have more important things to do, like a life and family. Which brings me to my subject today.
I know the internet is a good thing and a convienient way to meet people, but what happened to personal interaction? People talk all the time online, but how many of them have actually met? How many people on your friends list would actually approach and talk to in real life?
Online a person can be who they want and what they want. They can be someone other than themselves. Has the world become that cruel or that insecure? Are we a nation of such truely unhappy people that we must create a fantasy world or fantasy life for ourselves?
What ever happened to the confidence and self-assuredness that people were once known for? The arrogance of the past? Why can't people be happy with who they are, the way they are, and what they have?
Statistically speaking, we are more successful than 10 years ago. Household incomes are up. Spending is at an all time high. We have cell phones and computers in almost every household. All things that were once symbols of the "status quo" are now commonplace. But society is less happy and less secure; less confident in their abilities and capabilities.Also, people have more education now than before. More knowledge, more experience, but less acceptance.
I hope everyone can find true peace and happiness in who they are not who they wish they were. You haveto accept yourself before you can be truely accepted by others. Talk to y'all later. Bye y'all!!!
I know the internet is a good thing and a convienient way to meet people, but what happened to personal interaction? People talk all the time online, but how many of them have actually met? How many people on your friends list would actually approach and talk to in real life?
Online a person can be who they want and what they want. They can be someone other than themselves. Has the world become that cruel or that insecure? Are we a nation of such truely unhappy people that we must create a fantasy world or fantasy life for ourselves?
What ever happened to the confidence and self-assuredness that people were once known for? The arrogance of the past? Why can't people be happy with who they are, the way they are, and what they have?
Statistically speaking, we are more successful than 10 years ago. Household incomes are up. Spending is at an all time high. We have cell phones and computers in almost every household. All things that were once symbols of the "status quo" are now commonplace. But society is less happy and less secure; less confident in their abilities and capabilities.Also, people have more education now than before. More knowledge, more experience, but less acceptance.
I hope everyone can find true peace and happiness in who they are not who they wish they were. You haveto accept yourself before you can be truely accepted by others. Talk to y'all later. Bye y'all!!!
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Time Well Spent
Howdy y'all!!! Well it's been awhile again. LOL!!!! Been busy with ballpractice and spring cleaning on the house. Yes, I'm coaching softball. I coach my daughter,Olivia's team. She plays in the Mini division, 7-8 year olds. The girls are really great. They get along and play very well. We may win a trophy this year. Angel is one of the other coaches and one of the girls mom and dad are the other two coaches. It is very interesting to say the least. So far I am really enjoying it. I may continue coaching for a few years.
Angel is up for a full time position at the rehab place she works at. I hope she gets it. Then she will be home at night and we can be like a normal family again.
I've been getting the house ready for warm weather. I finally had to mow the yard. It looks really great though. Saturday, April 15th, I'm going to the Nascar race in Nashville. I can't wait. I love going to the races. I have been to both Busch races for the past several years, but have never been to the Truck race or the Indy car race. I hope to make those this year. I'm going with my dad and was hoping Angel and Olivia would be able to go, but Angel is gonna take care of ball practice that day. It will give me and dad a chance to spend some time together. We don't get to do that much cause of work and other things. We go to the races and play golf and that's about it.
Which brings me to my thought for today. why do we seem to drift away from our families as we get older? I know most of us are busy, but we can't be that busy. Also, sometimes there is distance involved, but that is another story. My parents only live 10 miles away and I don't see them much. One day they will be gone and I will regret the time I didn' spend with them. I try to spend as much time with them as possible, but sometimes it still doesn't seem like enough.
If your family is close, try to see them as much as you can and, if they are not, try to at least call them a couple of times a week. You will be glad you did and so will they. Always live like there is no tomorrow because there just might not be and you will be able to live a life with very few regrets.
Talk to y'all later. I'm gonna call my parents. Bye y'all!!!
Angel is up for a full time position at the rehab place she works at. I hope she gets it. Then she will be home at night and we can be like a normal family again.
I've been getting the house ready for warm weather. I finally had to mow the yard. It looks really great though. Saturday, April 15th, I'm going to the Nascar race in Nashville. I can't wait. I love going to the races. I have been to both Busch races for the past several years, but have never been to the Truck race or the Indy car race. I hope to make those this year. I'm going with my dad and was hoping Angel and Olivia would be able to go, but Angel is gonna take care of ball practice that day. It will give me and dad a chance to spend some time together. We don't get to do that much cause of work and other things. We go to the races and play golf and that's about it.
Which brings me to my thought for today. why do we seem to drift away from our families as we get older? I know most of us are busy, but we can't be that busy. Also, sometimes there is distance involved, but that is another story. My parents only live 10 miles away and I don't see them much. One day they will be gone and I will regret the time I didn' spend with them. I try to spend as much time with them as possible, but sometimes it still doesn't seem like enough.
If your family is close, try to see them as much as you can and, if they are not, try to at least call them a couple of times a week. You will be glad you did and so will they. Always live like there is no tomorrow because there just might not be and you will be able to live a life with very few regrets.
Talk to y'all later. I'm gonna call my parents. Bye y'all!!!
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Remembering
Howdy y’all. Well it’s been awhile. I’ve been busy working overtime. I got my raise. WOOHOO!!! Saturday I had a birthday dinner for Angel. We had about 15 people here, just close friends and family. Nate, a friend of mine from work hooked up with a friend of mines daughter. They have been talking for about a week and finally got to meet Saturday. Things went well and they went out on their first date Sunday. Kelly is really sweet and Nate is really cool. I hope things work out for them.
The cookout went really well. There was a lot of food and everybody ate like they were starving. There wasn’t much food left. LOL. Everybody had a great time and friends got introduced to family. Great food, great fun, and great people, what a great way to spend a Saturday evening.
Jen, Kelly’s sister is having a hard time right now. She is going through a rough divorce. She was married to my best friend and former band mate. I guess things don’t always work out like you plan them. Marriage is a lot of hard work and sometimes no matter how hard you try things just don’t work. But life goes on and maybe things will work out better for the both of them and maybe someday they can at least become friends again.
It really amazes me sometime how two people can spend so much time together and then, when things don’t work out, be so hateful. It’s like they are incapable of remembering the good times and the things they liked about each other and can only remember the bad things. But when your hurt things can really look a lot different and you tend to just focus on the bad things, the things that caused you to be hurt.
I just don't see how you can say you love someone and then treat them so bad and gripe about so much about them. Especially gripe about things that attracted you to them in the first place. It kinda makes you wonder if it was really love in the first place or just an obsession. I guess I will just never understand how so much love can turn into so much hate.
Well that’s enough for tonight. Just remember to be good to each other and respect each other and if things don’t work out then try to remember the good times at least as much as the bad. Bye y’all!!!
The cookout went really well. There was a lot of food and everybody ate like they were starving. There wasn’t much food left. LOL. Everybody had a great time and friends got introduced to family. Great food, great fun, and great people, what a great way to spend a Saturday evening.
Jen, Kelly’s sister is having a hard time right now. She is going through a rough divorce. She was married to my best friend and former band mate. I guess things don’t always work out like you plan them. Marriage is a lot of hard work and sometimes no matter how hard you try things just don’t work. But life goes on and maybe things will work out better for the both of them and maybe someday they can at least become friends again.
It really amazes me sometime how two people can spend so much time together and then, when things don’t work out, be so hateful. It’s like they are incapable of remembering the good times and the things they liked about each other and can only remember the bad things. But when your hurt things can really look a lot different and you tend to just focus on the bad things, the things that caused you to be hurt.
I just don't see how you can say you love someone and then treat them so bad and gripe about so much about them. Especially gripe about things that attracted you to them in the first place. It kinda makes you wonder if it was really love in the first place or just an obsession. I guess I will just never understand how so much love can turn into so much hate.
Well that’s enough for tonight. Just remember to be good to each other and respect each other and if things don’t work out then try to remember the good times at least as much as the bad. Bye y’all!!!
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Something to Think About
Howdy ya’ll. Angel started her new job yesterday and she loves it. They were so nice to her. They decorated her office and had flowers delivered to her. She will be a case manager at a Community Development Center for the Mentally Handicapped. She has done this kind of work before and really enjoys it. To me, it takes a special kind of person to do this kind of work. I really don’t think I could do it. I don’t have a lot of patience.
We should really stop to thank the people who work with handicapped people, whether mentally or physically. These people have a special talent and skill to be able to work with “extra special” people. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not putting these people down. To me, everyone is special but these people are extra special because lots of times God uses them to touch our hearts and lives.
The story that follows is a prime example. Her friend, Vickie, in Elizabethton, TN, emailed it to Angel. I’m not sure where it originated so I can’t give proper credit and am posting it as such. Read it and decide what you would do.
“What would you do? You make the choice! Don't look for a punch line; there isn't one! Read it anyway. My question to all of you is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:"When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.Where is the natural order of things in my son? "The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. "Ibelieve, that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child.
"Then he told the following story:
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, “Do you think they'll let me play?"Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and a few boys nodded approval, why not? So he took matters into his own hands and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning.I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning. "Shay struggled over to the team's bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his Father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.
Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance towin the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly,much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the firstbaseman, out of reach of all teammates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to firstbase. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay,all theWay Shay" Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay,run to third" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet and were screaming, "Shay, run home!"Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down hisface, the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."Shay didn't make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his Father so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
AND, NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY:We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought,but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people think twice about sharing. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.
If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people on your address list that aren't the"appropriate" ones to receive this type of message. Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the "natural order of things. "So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up that opportunity to brighten the day of those with us, the least able,and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?
A wise man oncesaid"everysociety is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them".
You now have two choices:
1. Delete
2. Forward
May your day be a Shay Day sunny today & always!!!!
Talk to y’all later. Bye y’all!!!
We should really stop to thank the people who work with handicapped people, whether mentally or physically. These people have a special talent and skill to be able to work with “extra special” people. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not putting these people down. To me, everyone is special but these people are extra special because lots of times God uses them to touch our hearts and lives.
The story that follows is a prime example. Her friend, Vickie, in Elizabethton, TN, emailed it to Angel. I’m not sure where it originated so I can’t give proper credit and am posting it as such. Read it and decide what you would do.
“What would you do? You make the choice! Don't look for a punch line; there isn't one! Read it anyway. My question to all of you is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:"When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.Where is the natural order of things in my son? "The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. "Ibelieve, that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child.
"Then he told the following story:
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, “Do you think they'll let me play?"Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and a few boys nodded approval, why not? So he took matters into his own hands and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning.I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning. "Shay struggled over to the team's bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his Father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.
Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance towin the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly,much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the firstbaseman, out of reach of all teammates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to firstbase. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay,all theWay Shay" Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay,run to third" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet and were screaming, "Shay, run home!"Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down hisface, the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."Shay didn't make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his Father so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
AND, NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY:We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought,but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people think twice about sharing. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.
If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people on your address list that aren't the"appropriate" ones to receive this type of message. Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the "natural order of things. "So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up that opportunity to brighten the day of those with us, the least able,and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?
A wise man oncesaid"everysociety is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them".
You now have two choices:
1. Delete
2. Forward
May your day be a Shay Day sunny today & always!!!!
Talk to y’all later. Bye y’all!!!
Monday, January 30, 2006
Ain't we all Americans???
Howdy y’all. Well, I’m tired. Getting up at 3:30 this morning was not cool. I went to Kentucky today, but got there and didn’t have anything to do. So I came back, finished my day at work got off at 3:30 pm like normal, and only got 2 hours overtime. I’m not getting any overtime this week because there wasn’t enough work to keep three people busy. I have less seniority so I lose out.
Oh well. Now, a gripe for today. When did we become a country of hyphenated Americans? Are we all not Americans? If a person is born in this country, they are American. If a person becomes a citizen, they are American. It really gets me to hear people referred to as African-American, Latin-American, Asian-American or whatever. They are Americans!!!
We are all something other than American unless we are Native Americans. With this being the case, shouldn’t we all be referred to as hyphenated Americans? America is known for taking in “the tired…the huddled masses yearning to be free,” and being the world’s melting pot. Do we really need to be that much of a separatist? I can understand people having their own sections of communities, such as Chinatown, Koreatown, and other ethnically based communities to help remind them where they came from and to help remember old world traditions, but it should stop there. Many people come here to get away from that very thing in their own countries. They come here for the opportunities that the American free enterprise system offers. They come here to get away from oppression and control. They come here for the freedoms that we all seem to take for granted all too often. Then they get to this wonderful land of freedom and opportunity, and are still separated and never really feel like they belong. This is all they really want.
Our servicemen and women are fighting for these people as well as the rest of us. I am a former serviceman and my brother is in the military, and we took the Oath of Service to protect these people too. So, in my book, anyone who is a citizen of this country or born in this country is an American. So let’s try to treat them as such and, one by one, we can change this stereotypical behavior and truly become “One nation under God, Indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for All!!!” Bye y’all!!!
Thursday, January 26, 2006
What Happened?
Howdy y’all!!! Well, another day another dollar. Things were better at work today, a little stressful, but better. Work is starting to pick up and we are starting to get busy again. We are getting ready to move into our new building soon. We are the largest rack manufacturer in the southeast. When we move into our new building, we will be the largest in the country. We had some problems today. Night shift messed up some parts and they had to be scrapped. It cost a lot of money.
Which reminds me of something, why is it that young people today don’t care about the jobs that they do? They just don’t have good work ethics. They don’t take pride in what they do or just don’t care. Some say it’s because they don’t make much money. Don’t they realize that the money will come in time and how much they get is based on their performance and productivity? Is society really that engrossed in instant self-gratification? Do they not realize that patience is a virtue and good things come to those who wait? The quality of our work and on time delivery is what keeps us getting work and working to pay bills or have the things that we want. I don’t know about them, but I need my job. I have bills to pay, a family to take care of and I have certain things that I want and that I want Angel and my children to have. I can only hope that some day things will change, but I’m not going to hold my breath.
Well, enough ranting for one night. Talk to y’all later. Bye y’all!!!
Which reminds me of something, why is it that young people today don’t care about the jobs that they do? They just don’t have good work ethics. They don’t take pride in what they do or just don’t care. Some say it’s because they don’t make much money. Don’t they realize that the money will come in time and how much they get is based on their performance and productivity? Is society really that engrossed in instant self-gratification? Do they not realize that patience is a virtue and good things come to those who wait? The quality of our work and on time delivery is what keeps us getting work and working to pay bills or have the things that we want. I don’t know about them, but I need my job. I have bills to pay, a family to take care of and I have certain things that I want and that I want Angel and my children to have. I can only hope that some day things will change, but I’m not going to hold my breath.
Well, enough ranting for one night. Talk to y’all later. Bye y’all!!!
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