A Moment of Joy

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss.What I did not realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep.But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some people who had been partying, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under such circumstances, many drivers just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I chi hair straightenershad seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transpor- tation.Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door.This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked. “Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase.The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm, and we walked slowly toward the curb. replica handbagsShe kept thanking me for my kindness. “It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.” “Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said.When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Can you drive through downtown?” “It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly. “Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.” I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds.wholesale handbags She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”We drove in silence to the address she had given me.It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.“Nothing,” We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one. People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said... but they will always remember how you made them feel.Take a moment to stop and appre- ciate the memories you have made, the memory making opportunies around you and make someone feel special today.

Write Right

When I was fifteen, I announced to my English class that I was going to write and illustrate my own books. Half the students sneered, the rest nearly fell out of their chairs laughing. "Don't be silly, only geniuses can become writers," the English teacher said smugly, "And you are getting a D this semester." I was so humiliated I burst into tears. That night I wrote a short sad poem about broken dreams and mailed it to the Capri's Weekly newspaper. To my astonishment, they published it and sent me two dollars. I was a published and paid writer. I showed my teacher and fellow students. They laughed. "Just plain dumb luck," the teacher said. I tasted success. I'd sold the first thing I'd ever written. That was more than any of them had done and if it was just dumb luck, that replica handbagwas fine with me. During the next two years I sold dozens of poems, letters, jokes and recipes. By the time I graduated from high school, with a C minus average, I had scrapbooks filled with my published work. I never mentioned my writing to my teachers, friends or my family again. They were dream killers and if people must choose between their friends and their dreams, they must always choose their dreams. I had four children at the time, and the oldest was only four. While the children napped, I typed on my ancient typewriter. I wrote what I felt. It took nine months, just like a baby. I chose a publisher at random and put the manuscript in an empty Pampers diapers package, the only box I could find. I'd never heard of manuscript boxes. The letter I enclosed read, "I wrote this book myself, hair straightenersI hope you like it. I also do the illustrations. Chapter six and twelve are my favourites. Thank you." I tied a string around the diaper box and mailed it without a self addressed stamped envelope and without making a copy of the manuscript. A month later I received a contract, an advance on royalties, and a request to start working on another book. Crying Wind, the title of my book, became a best seller, was translated into fifteen languages and Braille and sold worldwide. I appeared on TV talk shows during the day and changed diapers at night. I traveled from New York to California and Canada on promotional tours. My first book also became required reading in native American schools in Canada. The worst year I ever had as a writer I earned two dollars. I was fifteen, remember? In my best year I earned 36,000 dollars. Most years I earned between five thousandGHD and ten thousand. No, it isn't enough to live on, but it's still more than I'd make working part time and it's five thousand to ten thousand more than I'd make if I didn't write at all. People ask what college I attended, what degrees I had and what qualifications I have to be a writer. The answer is: "None." I just write. I'm not a genius. I'm not gifted and I don't write right. I'm lazy, undisciplined, and spend more time with my children and friends than I do writing. I didn't own a thesaurus until four years ago and I use a small Webster's dictionary that I'd bought at K-Mart for 89 cents. I use an electric typewriter that I paid a hundred and twenty nine dollars for six years ago. I've never used a word processor. I do all the cooking, cleaning and laundry for a family of six and fit my writing in a few minutes here and there. I write everything in longhand on yellow tablets while sitting on the sofa with my four kids eating pizza and watching TV. When the book is finished, I type it and mail it to the publisher. I've written eight books. Four have been published and three are still out with the publishers. One stinks. To all those who dream of writing, I'm shouting at you: "Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Don't listen to them." I don't write right but I've beaten the odds. Writing is easy, it's fun and anyone can do it. Of course, a little dumb luck doesn't hurt.

Shallow Hal

Bobby and Peter Farrelly have been widely hailed, and occasionally criticized, for their wacky, lowbrow humor that leaves audiences rolling in the aisles. We have enjoyed their goofy, unforgettable scenes in “Dumb and Dumber,” “There's Something About Mary,” and “Me, Myself, and Irene.” Their upcoming film, “Shallow Hal,” packs plenty of laughs, but marks a departure for the duo in that it has a serious message as well.Rising talent Jack Black plays Hal, an unremarkable man who will only date beautiful women with perfect bodies. His standards change, however, after he is hypnotized by self-help guru Tony Robbins. No longer the shallow cad, Hal is now hair straightenersonly concerned with inner beauty.Hal finds a worthy recipient of his affections in Rosemary (Gwyneth Paltrow), an intelligent woman of character---and 300 pounds. In Hal's eyes, though, Rosemary is lithe and gorgeous. Agog at this development is Hal's superficial but likable pal, Mauricio, played by popular funnyman Jason Alexander. In the end, the illusion of Rosemary's beauty is revealed and Hal learns an important lesson in life.All the Farrelly brothers' movies have revolved around realistic characters whom the audience can root for. Their tactics and quirky sense of humor have worked so far to great effect, and “Shallow Hal” looks ready to join their string of successes, while adding a new dimension to their work. Their tactics and quirky sense of humor have worked so farGHD to great effect, and “Shallow Hal” looks ready to join their string of successes, while adding a new dimension to their work. A porcelain, blond beauty with proven acting skills and an air of class, Gwyneth Paltrow has taken Hollywood by storm. Born in Tinseltown to parents in the entertainment industry, Paltrow's foray into film came as no surprise.Paltrow's first training in acting came at the age of 11 while her father was directing summer stock productions. One of her first roles was in chi hair straightenersa play opposite her award-winning actress mother, Blythe Danner. She became bitten by the acting bug and later quit college to pursue a film career which has met with great critical and commercial success.Her movie debut came in 1991 with “shout,” starring John Travolta. She won her first real acclaim, though, in “Flesh and Bone,” which set her on the path to fame. In 1995, she landed a fortuitous role in “Seven” opposite Brad Pitt. A much publicized two-year romance with Pitt followed, culminating in an engagement and subsequent breakup. One of Hollywood's more prolific actresses, Paltrow has starred in 15 films since 1998. Her greatest acclaim so far has come from the period pieces “Emma” and “Shakespeare in Love,” the latter which earned her a Best Actress Oscar. Now with “Shallow Hal,” Paltrow has the opportunity to show her comic side while broadening her already considerable talents and fan base.

An angel

It all began about 2,000 years ago. An angel appeared to a Jewish girl named Mary and gave her good news: You will have a son. His name will be Jesus, the Savior. When the baby was almost due, Mary and her fiance Joseph went to their hometown, Bethlehem, for a census. The only place they could find to stay was an animal stable. There the special baby was born.The celebration of this special birth came to be called Christmas. Through the ages, people developed many Christmas traditions. The custom of decorating Christmas trees began centuries ago. People in many ancient cultures decorated homes with trees and greenery in winter. In the Middle Ages, Christians in Europe added lights and religious symbols to evergreens to make Christmas trees. Santa Gucci HandbagsClaus has become one of the most famous Christmas figures, particularly in America. His legend started with a kind bishop named St. Nicholas who lived around 300 A.D. and was known for his generosity. The practice of giving Christmas gifts comes from the gifts offered to the child Jesus by the wise men of the East. The star on top of the Christmas tree symbolizes the star that led the wise men to Jesus. Sometimes Christmas can become just a ritual. Many Americans see Christmas as just a time for shopping for the perfect gift.Angels announced the joyful news to some shepherds. They left their sheep and hurried to see the baby. Some time later, wise men from the East saw an unusual star. They knew someone great had been born. The star led them to Bethlehem. When they found the child Jesus, they offeredRolex Watches him gifts fit for a king. Christmas Advertisers and businesses begin promoting Christmas earlier every year. Stores remind customers of how many shopping days are left until Christmas. It's almost a modern Christmas custom to spend too much money! Credit card debts often take months to pay off. Even children can become materialistic. They think only of what they will get from Santa Claus. Despite the hustle and bustle of the Christmas Rush, most Americans feel Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. It's a time of excitement, a time of joy, a time to show love in special ways. Best of all, Christmas is not just for Americans. Christmas is for everybody in the world. Christmas is the celebration of God's gift to the world-Jesus.

The Baby Eagle

Once upon a time there was a baby eagle living in a nest perched on a cliff overlooking a beautiful valley with waterfalls and streams, trees and lots of little animals, scurrying about enjoying their lives. The baby eagle liked the nest. It was the only world he had ever known. It was warm and comfortable, had a great view, and even better, he had all the food and love and attention that a great mother eagle could provide. Many times each day the mother would swoop down from the sky and land in the nest and feed the baby eagle delicious morsels of food. She was like a god to him, he had no idea where she came from or how she worked her magic. The baby eagle was hungry all the time, Replica Watchesbut the mother eagle would always come just in time with the food and love and attention hecraved. The baby eagle grew strong. His vision grew very sharp. He felt good all the time. Until one day, the mother stopped coming to the nest. The baby eagle was hungry. "I'm sure to die," said the baby eagle, all the time. "Very soon, death is coming," he cried, with tears streaming down his face. Over and over. But there was no one there to hear him. Then one day the mother eagle appeared at the top of the mountain cliff, with a big bowl of delicious food and she looked down at her baby. The replica designer handbagsbaby looked up at the mother and cried "Why did you abandon me? I'm going to die any minute. How could you do this to me?" The mother said, "Here is some very tasty and nourishing food, all you have to do is come get it." "Come get it!" said the baby, with much anger. "How?" The mother flew away. The baby cried and cried and cried. A few days later, "I'm going to end it all," he said. "I give up. It is time for me to die." He didn't know his mother was nearby. She swooped down to the nest with his last meal. "Eat this, it's your last meal," she said. The baby cried, but he ate and whined and whined about what a bad mother she was. "You're a terrible mother," he said. Then she pushed him out of the nest. He fell. Head first. Picked up speed. Faster and Coach Handbagsfaster. He screamed. "I'm dying I'm dying," he cried. He picked up more speed. He looked up at his mother. "How could you do this to me?" He looked down. The ground rushed closer, faster and faster. He could visualize his own death so clearly, coming so soon, and cried and whined and complained. "This isn't fair!" he screamed. Something strange happens. The air caught behind his arms and they snapped away from his body, with a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced. He looked down and saw the sky. He wasn't moving towards the ground anymore, his eyes were pointed up at the sun. "Huh?" he said. "What is going on here!" "You're flying," his mother said. "This is fun!" laughed the baby eagle, as he soared and dived and swooped. "Yes it is!" said the mother.

The Moon

We find that the moon is about 239,000 miles (384,551 km) away from the earth, and, to within a few thousand miles, its distance always remains the same. Yet a very little observation shows that the moon is not standing till. Its distance from the earth remains the same, but its direction continually changes. We find that it is traveling in a circle - or very nearly a circle - round the earth, going completely round once a month, or, more exactly, once very 27 1/3 days. It is our nearest Replica rolex watchesneighbour in space, and like ourselves it is kept tied to the earth by the earth's gravitational pull.Except for the sun, the moon looks the biggest object in the sky. Actually it is one of the smallest, and only looks big because it is so near to us. Its diameter is only 2,160 miles (3,389 km), or a little more than a quarter of the diameter of the earth.Once a month, or, more exactly, once every 29 1/2 days, at the time we call "full moon," its whole disc looks replica handbagbright. At other times only part of it appears bright, and we always find that this is the part which faces towards the sun, while the part facing away from the sun appears dark. Artists could make their pictures better if they kept this in mind - only those parts of the moon which are lighted up by the sun are bright. This shows that the moon gives no light of its own. It merely reflects the light of the sun, like a huge mirror hung in the sky.Yet the dark part of the moon's surface is not absolutely black; generally it is just light enough Replica Handbagsfor us to be able to see its outline, so that we speak of seeing "the old moon in the new moon's arms." The light by which we see the old moon does not come from the sun, but from the earth. We know well how the surface of the sea or of snow, or even of a wet road, may reflect uncomfortable much of the sun's light on to our faces. In the same way the surface of the whole earth reflects enough of the sun's light on to the face of the moon for us to be able to see the parts of it which would otherwise be dark. If there were any inhabitants of the moon, they would see our earth reflecting the light of the sun, again like a huge mirror hung in the sky. They would speak of earthlight just as we speak of moon-light. "the old moon in the new moon's arms" is nothing but that part of the moon's surface on which it is night, lighted up by earth light. In the same way , the lunar inhabitants would occasionally see part of our earth in full sunlight, and the rest lighted only by moon-light; they might call this "the old earth in the new earth's arms."

The 4 Wives

There was a rich merchant who had 4 wives. He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to delicacies. He took great care of her and gave her nothing but the best. He also loved the 3rd wife very much. He’s very proud of her and always wanted to show off her to his friends. However, the merchant is always in great fear that she might run away with some other men. He too, loved his 2nd wife. She is a very considerate person, always patient and in fact is the merchant’s confidante. Whenever the merchant faced some problems, he always turned to his 2nd wife and she would always help him out and tide him through difficult times. Now, the merchant’s 1st wife is a very loyal partner and has made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and business Designer clothingas well as taking care of the household. However, the merchant did not love the first wife and although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her. One day, the merchant fell ill. Before long, he knew that he was going to die soon. He thought of his luxurious life and told himself, “Now I have 4 wives with me. But when I die, I’ll be alone. How lonely I’ll be!”Thus, he asked the 4th wife, “I loved you most, and owed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I’m dying, will you follow me and keep me company?”Designer replica handbags “No way!” replied the 4th wife and she walked away without another word. The answer cut like a sharp knife right into the merchant’s heart. The sad merchant then asked the 3rd wife, “I have loved you so much for all my life. Now that I’m dying, will you follow me and keep me company?” “No!” replied the 3rd wife. “Life is so good over here! I’m going to remarry when you die!” The merchant’s heart sank and turned cold. He then asked the 2nd wife, “I always turned to you for help and you’ve always helped me out. Now I need yourWholesale jewelry help again. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?” “I’m sorry, I can’t help you out this time!” replied the 2nd wife. “At the very most, I can only send you to your grave.” The answer came like a bolt of thunder and the merchant was devastated.Then a voice called out: “I’ll leave with you. I’ll follow you no matter where you go.” The merchant looked up and there was his first wife. She was so skinny, almost like she suffered from malnutrition. Greatly grieved, the merchant said, “I should have taken much better care of you while I could have!” Actually, we all have 4 wives in our lives The 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it’ll leave us when we die. Our 3rd wife is our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, they all go to others. The 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how close they had been there for us when we’re alive, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave. The 1st wife is in fact our soul, often neglected in our pursuit of material, wealth and sensual pleasure. Guess what? It is actually the only thing that follows us wherever we go. Perhaps it’s a good idea to cultivate and strengthen it now rather than to wait until we’re on our deathbed to lament.