Boy With a Temper

There was a little boy with a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, to hammer a nail in the back fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence.

The nails gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.

The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I' m sorry, the wound is still there. A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one."

Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us. Show your friends how much you care.

A Touchin' Story

After the divorce, her teenage daughter became increasingly rebellious. It culminated late one night when the police called to tell her that she had to come to the police station to pick up her daughter, who was arrested for drunk driving.

They didn't speak until the next afternoon.

Mom broke the tension by giving her daughter a small gift-wrapped box.

Her daughter nonchalantly opened it and found a small piece of a rock. She rolled her eyes and said, "Cute Mom, what's this for?"

"Here's the card," Mom said.

Her daughter took the card out of the envelope and read it. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks. She got up and gave her mom a big hug as the card fell to the floor.

On the card were these words: "This rock is more than 200 million years old. That's how long it will take before I give up on you."

On Parenting

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you, For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends with you His might that His arrows might go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

By Kahli Gibran

WAITING ON THE LORD

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried.

Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,

And the Master so gently said, "Child, you must wait!"

"'Wait?', you say, wait!" my indignant reply.

"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!

Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?

By FAITH I have asked, and am claiming your Word.

"My future and all to which I can relate

Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to WAIT?

I'm needing a 'yes,' a go-ahead sign,

Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.

"And Lord, you promised that if we believe

We need but to ask, and we shall receive.

And Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry:

I'm weary of asking! I need a reply!"

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate

As my Master replied once again, "You must wait."

So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut

And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting. . .for what?"

He seemed then to kneel and His eyes wept with mine,

And he tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.

I could shake the heavens, and darken the sun.

I could raise the dead, and cause mountains to run.

All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be.

You would have what you want -- but, you wouldn't know ME.

"You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint;

You'd not know the power that I give to the faint;

You'd not learn to see through the clouds of despair;

You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there;

You'd not know the joy of resting in me

When darkness and silence were all you could see.

"You'd never experience that fullness of love

As the peace of my Spirit descends like a dove;

You'd know that I give and I save. . .(for a start),

But you'd not know the depth of the beat of my heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night.

The faith that I give when you walk without sight,

The depth that's beyond getting just what you asked

Of an infinite God, who makes what you have LAST.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,

What it means that 'My grace is sufficient for thee.'

Yes, your dreams for your loved ones overnight would come true,

But, oh, the loss! if I lost what I'm doing in you!

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see

THAT THE GREATEST OF GIFTS IS TO GET TO KNOW ME.

And though oft may my answers seem terribly late,

My wisest of answers is still but to WAIT."

Author Unknown