Friday Story

[Michi]

Well here comes something quite different.

Let me explain: For quite some time I receive each Friday an email, titled "Friday Story".
Those are quite inspiring short stories and I would like to share with you those which touched me the most.

Perhaps you too, do have a "Friday Story" which touched you and never forget.
This would be the place to share. (And it can be on any weekday.)

So, without further ado ...

The Trouble Tree

A woman hired a carpenter for repairs on her farmhouse. One day a flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw quit, and then his ancient truck refused to start. The woman drove him home.

He invited her in to meet his family. As they walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.

Inside, he smiled and hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.

As he walked the client out to her car, she asked him about the tree.

“Oh, that’s my trouble tree,” he replied. “I can’t help having troubles on the job, but troubles don’t belong at home. So I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home. Then in the morning I pick them up again.”

“Funny thing.” He smiled. “When I come out in the morning to pick them up, there aren’t nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.”

[Michi]

It's Friday again. And drum roll ...

The Park Bench
(Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree)

Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.

And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.

He stood right before me with his head tilted down,
And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn, not enough rain, or too little light.

Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a smile and then shifted away.

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side,
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise’

“It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful too,
That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”

The weed before me was dying or dead,
Not vibrant of colors; orange, yellow, or red.

But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave,
So I reached for the flower and replied, “Just what I need.”

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.

It was then that I noticed for the first time,
That weed-toting boy could not see, he was blind.

I heard my voice quiver, tears shone in the sun,
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.

I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.

How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight.

Through the eyes of a blind child, as last I could see
The problem was not with the world, but with me.

And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that’s mine.

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose,
And I breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose.

And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

[Michi]

A bit late, but here is your next Friday Story:
--------------------------------------------------

Dealing With Hurtful Words

When one of my daughters was confronted with the fact that she had really hurt another child with a mean comment, she cried and immediately wanted to apologize. That was a good thing, but I wanted her to know an apology can’t always make things better. So I told her the story of Will, an angry nine-year-old whose father abandoned his mom two years earlier.

Will would often lash out at others with mean and hurtful words. After a particularly hostile outburst where Will told his mom, “I see why Dad left you!,” his mother, desperate and damaged, sent Will to spend the summer with his grandparents who lived on a small farm.

The first evening on the farm, Will made nasty comments to his grandmother about her cooking and the size of the house. His grandfather took him to a tool shed and told him he could not come back into the house until he pounded a two-inch nail into a 4 x 4 board. He said the nail had to be pounded all the way in and that he would have to do so every time he said a mean and hurtful thing. For a small boy, this was a major task. After about ten trips to the shed, Will began to be more cautious about his words. Eventually, he apologized to his grandmother for all the bad things he’d said.

His grandmother didn’t respond directly but asked him to bring in the board filled with nails. Then she gave him the hammer and asked him to pull out all the nails. This was even harder than pounding them in, but after a huge struggle, he did it.

His grandmother hugged him and said, “I appreciate your apology and, of course, I forgive you because I love you, but I want you to know an apology is like pulling out one of those nails. Look at the board. The holes are still there. The board will never be the same. I know your dad put a hole in you when he left and that’s unfair, but it doesn’t give you the right to put holes in other people – especially those who love you. Will, you are better than that.”

A fourth-grade teacher once told me how she tells this story to her class at the beginning of the semester and uses it throughout the year. When she comes upon a child saying or doing a mean or unkind thing, she will say, “Did you put a nail in someone?” Then she’ll ask, “Did you take it out?”

She says her students always know what she’s talking about and they come to recognize what its wrong to hurt others with their words. She urges her students not to use the automatic, “That’s all right” after an apology because usually what was done was not all right and the person saying it, rightfully, doesn’t feel it was all right. She tells her class to say, “I accept your apology” or “I forgive you” instead.

The teacher also uses the story to help her kids understand difficult family matters outside of the classroom. She tells them some people will never take out the nails they’ve pounded into the children, but everyone has the power to pull them out themselves and get on with their life rather than let others rule them.

She told me, “The story is simple, but the message is powerful — especially when reinforced with: “You’re better than that!”

Michael Josephson

[Michi]

this story I found on my FB feed:

from Emmanuel Philip Tumba

I went to a new restaurant that had just opened in my neighborhood cos I saw their free WiFi advert for all guests.
I asked the waitress for the password as I was ushered in.. She told me, eat first!
Without arguing, I smiled and placed my order for food and drinks and when the food was being served, I asked for the password again... and the waitress told me again... eat first!
Of course I needed the password while waiting for my food to be served so I could catch up on some work emails and social chats.
Now that I'm almost done eating, I wonder if it really makes sense asking for the password... but I still went ahead to ask the waitress again.
"Please, what's the password?" I asked, and the waitress told me eat first.
"But I have finished eating my food!" I responded angrily.
"No sir..." she said... "That's not what I meant... the password is actually *eat first* all in small letters".
At this point, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or get angry.
Pay attention to every spoken words, within it may be the answers you've been looking for.
Ponder on this.

[Michi]

... another one before Friday ...

from Titus David Durkwa

THE COCKROACH THEORY OF SELF DEVELOPMENT.
At a restaurant, a cockroach suddenly flew from somewhere and sat on a lady.
She started screaming out of fear.
With a panic-stricken face and trembling voice, she started jumping, with both her hands desperately trying to get rid of the cockroach.
Her reaction was contagious, as everyone in her group also got panicky.
The lady finally managed to push the cockroach away but ...it landed on another lady in the group.
Now, it was the turn of the other lady in the group to continue the drama.
The waiter rushed forward to their rescue.
In the relay of throwing, the cockroach next fell upon the waiter.
The waiter stood firm, composed himself and observed the behaviour of the cockroach on his shirt.
When he was confident enough, he grabbed it with his fingers and threw it out of the restaurant.
Sipping my coffee and watching the amusement, the antenna of my mind picked up a few thoughts and started wondering, was the cockroach responsible for their histrionic behaviour?
If so, then why was the waiter not disturbed?
He handled it near to perfection, without any chaos.
It is not the cockroach, but the inability of those people to handle the disturbance caused by the cockroach, that disturbed the ladies.
I realized that it is not the shouting of my father or my boss or my wife that disturbs me, but it's my inability to handle the disturbances caused by their shouting that disturbs me.
It's not the traffic jams on the road that disturbs me, but my inability to handle the disturbance caused by the traffic jam that disturbs me.
More than the problem, it's my reaction to the problem that creates chaos in my life.
LESSONS-:
I understood I should not react in life.
I should always respond.
The women reacted, whereas the waiter responded.
Reactions are always instinctive whereas responses are always well thought of.
A beautiful way to understand LIFE.
The HAPPY person is not because Everything is RIGHT in his Life.
He is HAPPY because his Attitude towards Everything in his Life is Right!