I Am

I am Dedicated to Being the Best Person I Can

What does it mean to dedicate to my life? It means that the actions I take and the choices I make convey the very character and nature of divine love

I am dedicated to living a divinely directed life. And from such a dedication, I find that I am never satisfied with doing anything less than what blesses me because I am being a blessing to others.

I act in loving ways and respond to others with understanding. As I do, I lay a foundation for living that will be a source of inspiration for the next generation to build upon.

I am dedicated to being the best person I can be. Listening to divinely inspired ideas and following the guidance I receive, I fulfill my role in life.

Angel Feathers Tickle Me

Children

Bomb

The sound a bomb makes
is easy enough to mistake,
easy enough to set aside
when there is work at hand,
and even as we step from our offices
and peer upward at the
higher floors of the building,
we are expecting to see that
something has fallen,
because that noise, that profound bang
seemed like a falling body,
a book cart, perhaps, precipitated
from the top floor and coming
to rest outside our door,
but there is nothing, nothing but
faces looking down at us,
asking the same mute question,
wondering the same thing,
not yet ready to consider that
we have been blown up,
and we go back to work,
back to mundane tasks
until the call to evacuate comes to us, and
even then, we walk calmly,
shrugging, into the open,
under the iron gray sky,
and we are directed to cross the street,
to get further from the building,
to establish a safe distance
and let the gathering authorities do their work
and we stand together in the spitting rain
and speak of it, not knowing,
and it was only a small bomb,
after all, and no one was hurt,
so we joke about perhaps blowing us up on a sunny day,
so that standing on the public green
while police tape is spread
might be more comfortable,
and we forget to mention
it to friends on the phone,
because, perhaps, bombs are not so unexpected
to us any more, and it takes real blood,
real, smoking craters in the earth and death tolls
on the nightly news to crack our jaded shell,
and little enough sense of violation when we are
blown up in only minor and inept ways,
after all, for we have seen worse than this,
and expect worse, and know that the world
is not nice, or kind, or forgiving,
though some of us have still gotten lucky sometimes,
and remained more or less
whole

AFTM

Santa

"Daddy", she said, her eyes full of tears,
"will you talk to me and quiet my fears?
Those bad boys at school are spreading a lie
'bout the impossibility of reindeer that fly.

There's no Santa Claus, they say with a grin
there's not one now, and there never has been.
How can one man take all of those toys
To thousands of girls and boys?

But I told them Daddy, that they were not right,
That I would come home and find out tonight.
Mamma said wait until you come home.
Please tell me now that I was not wrong."

Her Daddy looked at her questioning face
And puffed his pipe while his frantic mind raced.
He had put this off as long as he could,
He had to think fast and it better be good.

Whispering a prayer, he began with a smile,
"well climb on my lap, dear, let's talk awhile."
"Remember at church how we learned to pray,
Asking God to take care of us each day?

And you know how we say grace before each meal?
To this same God whom we know to be real.
Though we never see him, we know he is there
Watching his children with such loving care."

"God started Christmas a long time ago
When he gave us His son to love and to know.
A spirit of giving came with that birth,
And God's generosity filled the whole earth.

Man had to name this spirit of giving
Just as he names all things that are living."
"The name Santa Claus came to someone's mind
Probably the best name of any to find.

There is, you can see, and I think quite clear
Truly a Santa who visits each year.
A spirit like God, whom we never see,
He enters the hearts of your mother and me."

"Each year at Christmas for one special night
We become him and make everything right.
But the real spirit of Christmas is in you and in me
And I hope you are old enough now to see
That as we believe and continue to give,

Our friend Santa Claus will continue to live."

Jimmy

She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: "How is my little boy ? Is he going to be all right ? When can I see him ?"

The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it."

Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer ? Doesn't God care any more ? Where were you, God, when my son needed you ?"

The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son ? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university."

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to her son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair. "Would you like a lock of his hair ?" the nurse asked.

Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.

The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else. "I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom." She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could."

Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.

The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.

She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:

"Dear Mom, I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say "I Love You". I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know.

Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything.

The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD ! And guess what, Mom ? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed.

Well, you know what Mom ? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him 'Where was He when I needed him ?' "God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.

Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool ? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery ! How about that ?

Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.

Miracles

It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through.

Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon ... we would lose everything.

It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes.

I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort ... trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he had been doing was completed.

Moments later, however, he was once gain walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods, run back to the house.

Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen ... as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking up on him).

He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very careful not to spill the water he held in them ... maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands.

I sneaked close as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing sight.

Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him ... he didn't even move as Billy knelt down.

And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand.

When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house; to a spigot that we had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back. And it became clear to me.

The trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me to help him.

It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said.

As he began his walk, I joined him ... with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known working so hard to save another life.

As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops ... and more drops ... and more. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride.

Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. That miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that ... I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm ... just like the actions of one little boy saved another.

I don't know if anyone will read this ... but I had to send it out. To honor the memory of my beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too soon ...

But not before showing me the true face of God...

Pass It On

A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter.

That did it! "And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question.

"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick...and I want to buy a miracle." "I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist. "His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?"

"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening a little. "Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."

The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?" " I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money."

"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago. "One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly. "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to." "Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents the exact price of a miracle for little brothers. " He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need."

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?" Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost one dollar and eleven cents, plus the faith of a little child.

In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need. A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law. I know you'll keep the ball moving! Here it goes. Throw it back to someone who means something to you! A ball is a circle, no beginning, no end. It keeps us together like our Circle of Friends. But the treasure inside for you to see is the treasure of friendship you've granted to me. Today I pass the friendship ball to you.

Pass it on to someone who is a friend to you...

Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born. So one day he asked God: They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow, but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?

Among the many angels out there, I chose a special one just for you. She will be waiting for you and will take care of you.

But tell me, here in heaven, I don't do anything else but sing and smile, that's enough for me to be happy.

Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you every day, and you will feel your angel's love and that will make you happy.

And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me, if I don't know the language that men talk?

Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak.

And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you? Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray.

I've heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?

Your angel will defend you even if it means risking her life. But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore. Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way for you to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you.

At the moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from earth could already be heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly: Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name.

Your angel's name is of no importance, you will call your angel: Mommy...

Tinkerbelle

This Tinkerbelle Fairy has fiery blue eyes and loves to dance with her Love Bug. She is incredibly bright. She loves, Bubs, Grandma, Grandpap, Mommy, Mat, Alicia and Brian who are her best friends. Her favorite color is pink, but looks precious in anything. She got her name because she specializes in fixing pots and pans! Just ask her Grandma. Tink loves to play fairy tag and get into things. She is a little sweetheart. She is one of the most popular little fairies and is loved by all who meet her beautiful little smile. I am sure this little fairy princess will have so many wonderful adventures....

Her garden of life will be blessed with love.

Smile

Just for today practice the art of smiling all day. See how your smile is contagious and how it can make others feel better about themselves and life. Look for the humor in your situations and you will smile in spite of everything. Smile at your friends. Smile at your enemies. Smile at people you don't know. Smile at your pets. Smile at your family. Smile even at the air you breathe. If you don't feel like smiling try very hard to list 3 blessings in your life. Then you will let the energy of those blessings enter your heart and you will be able to smile...

I went to turn the grass once after one
Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.
The dew was gone that made his blade so keen
Before I came to view the leveled scene.
I looked for him behind an isle of trees;
I listened for his whetstone on the breeze.
But he had gone his way, the grass all mown,
And I must be, as he had been,--alone,
As all must be,' I said within my heart,
Whether they work together or apart.
But as I said it, swift there passed me by
On noiseless wing a 'wildered butterfly,
Seeking with memories grown dim o'er night
Some resting flower of yesterday's delight.
And once I marked his flight go round and round,
As where some flower lay withering on the ground.
And then he flew as far as eye could see,
And then on tremulous wing came back to me.
I thought of questions that have no reply,
And would have turned to toss the grass to dry;
But he turned first, and led my eye to look
At a tall tuft of flowers beside a brook,
A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared
Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared.
I left my place to know them by their name,
Finding them butterfly weed when I came.
The mower in the dew had loved them thus,
By leaving them to flourish, not for us,
Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him.
But from sheer morning gladness at the brim.
The butterfly and I had lit upon,
Nevertheless, a message from the dawn,
That made me hear the wakening birds around,
And hear his long scythe whispering to the ground,
And feel a spirit kindred to my own;
So that henceforth I worked no more alone;
But glad with him, I worked as with his aid,
And weary, sought at noon with him the shade;
And dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech
With one whose thought I had not hoped to reach.
Men work together,' I told him from the heart,
Whether they work together or apart.

Robert Frost

Prayers

Father hear our prayers today,

For our children far away.

Please send your Angel Warriors,

To lead the path each day.

As our children march in battle,

Give them your direction;

Wrap your loving arms around them

And give them protection.

I know that they must think of home,

And those they left behind.

Please let them feel our presence when,

Our thoughts may intertwine.

Let them know that we are with them;

Support them all the way.

We'll keep the home fires burning,

While they are gone away.

They are the love of our life and,

So very proud are we!

To know they fight for others that,

One day they may be free.

We put them in your loving hands,

We know you're in control.

Please bring them home dear Father,

And all our hearts console.

Tickle Me

no child of mine will walk in darkness while I have to give

no child of mine will need for love as long as I shall live

no child of mine will live tomorrow in dreams of yesterday

no child of mine will lift their head to see a blackened sky

no child of mine will suffer thirst from rivers that run dry

no child of mine will rise to hear a bird that's lost his song

no child of mine will touch a flower to feel its freshness gone

no child of mine will be forced to do what they believe is wrong

His head held high and his eyes alert,

Waiting at the gate again.

On the edge of heaven's portal.

Not sure he could enter in.

Every day he would sit and wait,

For a ball to be returned.

One that he had tossed through the Gate,

For the one that he yearned.

Memories flooded his small heart,

Of days together in play.

So many times she tossed a ball,

Back and forth each day.

She never seemed to really mind,

Taking part in the game of chase,

He especially loved playing that game,

As it ended in embrace!

She often mentioned the name Jesus,

Wondered if animals knew Him.

She would sing songs for him alone,

Some she called a hymn.

Sometimes she would pick him up,

And around the room they danced!

He made her laugh when he tapped his feet,

And like a pony pranced.

He was in a place called eternity,

There he found wisdom and grace.

He knew that she was somewhere near,

Though he could not see her face.

As he lay he felt joy and peace,

From somewhere to him unknown.

He would feel overflowing hope,

That God gives from His thrown.

His devotion and love will last,

Through time forevermore.

He will never forget sweet memories,

Of the one he does adore.
Southbreeze

I was walking around in a store. I saw a cashier hand this little boy his money back saying "I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll." Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him: "Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?" The old lady replied: "You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear." Then she asked him to stay there for 5 minutes while she went to look around the store. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.

Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to. "It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Clause would bring it to her."

I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus will bring it to her after all, and not to worry. But he replied to me sadly. "No Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there." His eyes were so sad while saying this. "My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my little sister." My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said: "I told Daddy to tell Mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall. Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me "I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me." "I love my mommy and I wish she did not have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my sister." Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.

I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy "What if we checked again, just in case you do have enough money?" "OK" he said "I hope that I have enough." I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money. The little boy said: "Thank you God for giving me enough money!" Then he looked at me and added "I asked yesterday before I slept for God to make sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mommy can give it to my sister. He heard me!

"I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy,but I didn't dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and the white rose." "My mommy loves white roses." A few minutes later, the old lady came again and I left with my basket.

I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind. Then I remembered a local newspaper article two days ago, which mentioned of a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car, wherre there was one young lady and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state! The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able to recover from the coma. Was this the family of the little boy?

Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young lady had passed away. I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was there for people to view and make last wishes before the burial. She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy placed over her chest. I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed forever. The love that this little boy had for his mother and sister is still, to this day hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all of this away from him.

For those of us that know God is watching, pass this on......

Friendship is a priceless gift

that cannot be bought or sold,

But its value is far greater

than a mountain made of gold

For gold is cold and lifeless,

it can neither see nor hear,

And in time of trouble

it is powerless to cheer

It has no ears to listen,

no heart to understand,

It cannot bring you comfort

or reach out a helping hand

So when you ask

God for a GIFT,

be thankful if HE sends

Not diamonds, pearls or riches,

but the love of real true friends.

Waves

A line of little girls holding hands facing the immensity of ocean waves. Alone they might be washed away, but together they stand strong. Thank you each for holding my hand somewhere along the way when I was facing a wave of my own. I hope you will reach for my hand when your own wave threatens......

Sisters

A sister is someone who leads you

Makes you laugh when you are in trouble,

Makes you feel cool and awesome

Even after you fail your test.

A sister is someone who fights with you

One who stands with you

In all your ups and downs

And makes you remember who you are.

Reminding you all your past

With no hesitation she scolds you a lot

One who do your home work

And even sometimes make You do her home work,

She is the only one, who makes you cry, When she is sad

A sister is some one who is always there for you,

Through all the laughter and al tears,

A sister is someone with whom

You can share your all serets and laughs,

Someone who will lend you

Her all prized stuff!

A sister is real

She will never pretend.

A sister is someone special

That I will always treasure and remember

In my heart.

did you know that

when the first baby laughed

for the first time

the laugh broke into a thousand pieces

and they all went skipping about

that was the beginning of fairies