The Serenity Share Forum

Universal Rx

No moving parts, no batteries,

No monthly payments and no fees;

Inflation proof, non-taxable,

In fact, it's quite relaxable;

It can't be stolen, won't pollute,

One size fits all, do not dilute.

It uses little energy,

But yields results enormously.

Relieves your tension and your stress

Invigorates your happiness;

Combats depression, makes you beam,

And elevates your self-esteem!

Your circulation it corrects

Without unpleasant side effects.

It is, I think, the perfect drug: May I prescribe, my friends . . . the hug!

(And, of course, fully returnable!)

By Henry Matthew Ward

Dreams of Past and Present

Dreams are part of, what life is made of

We begn as children, as dreams of love.

We learned our own dreams as we grew

Striving each day to make them come true.

Drems made me wonder, "Who am I?"

Never ever ceasing, to wonder why.

Dreams let me know what I wanted to be

Knowing something better was inside of me.

Dreams for my own life have come true

Making each day so special and new.

Now the dreams of others i want to share

With deep understanding, because I really care.

Dreams of the present to you now turn

Wondering about you and what I will learn.

I dream of the softness of your voice when we talk

And being beside you when we go for a walk.

My dreams are now of peace and tranquility

To share them with you and you with me.

By: Steven Reiser

Today

Yesterday has come and gone

And. never more, will be;

Tomorrow's dawn is Grce of God

That may not light, for me,

But i still have today, to live-

Today belongs to me-

And I must live each precious hour, the best that I cn be.

I can't recall- to better live-

The day that passed away

And can't be sure God means, for me,

To try another day,

So all I have is just today-

This tiny breath of time-

To do and say, what best endears,

Each treasured love of mine.

By Michael Dubina

Special People

The people in this world are the most precious and the most appreciated people of all. No matter what happens, they always understnd. They go a million miles out of their way. They hold your hand.

They bring you smiles, when a smile is exactly what you need. They listen, and they hear what is said in the spaces between the words. They care, and they let you know you're in there prayers.

Special people always know the perfect thing to do. They can make your whole day just by saying something that no one else could have said. Sometimes you feel like they share with you a secret language that others can't tune into.

Special people can guide you, inspire you, comfort you, and light up your life with laughter. Special people understand your moods And nurture your needs, and they lovingly know just what you're after.

When your feelings come from deep inside and they need to be spoken to someone you don't have to hide from, you share them...with special people. When good news comes, specil people are the first ones you turn to. And when feelings overflow and tears need to fall, special people help you through it all.

Special people bring sunlight into your life. They warm your world with their presence, whether they are far away or close by your side. Specil people are gifts tht bring happiness, and treasures that money cn't buy.

By: Collin McCarty

A Story To Live By

by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times)

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion." He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."

I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.

I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life. I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.

I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.

I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends'.

"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing-I'll never know.

It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good Friends whom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them. I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.

And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special.

Every day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.

THE TREASURE

by Alice Gray as printed in "More Stories for the Heart"

The cheerful girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five.Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them: a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box. "Oh please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please!

Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face. "A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma."

As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.

Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere--Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath. Mother said that if she got them wet, they would make her neck turn green.

Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story.

One night when he finished the story, he asked Jenny, "Do you love me?" "Oh yes, Daddy. You know that I love you." "Then give me your pearls." "Oh, Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess--the white horse from my collection. The one with the pink tail. Remember, Daddy? The one you gave me. She's my favorite. "That's okay, Honey. Daddy loves you. Good night." And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.

About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, "Do you love me?" "Daddy, you know I love you." "Then give me your pearls." "Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is so beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper." "That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you." And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.

A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian-style. As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek. "What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?" Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, "Here, Daddy. It's for you." With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's kind daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime-store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny. He had had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her genuine treasure.

So like our heavenly Father. What are you hanging on to?