One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, “How much do I owe you?” “You don’t owe me anything,” she replied. “Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness.” He said, “Then I thank you from my heart.”
As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.
Year’s later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease. Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room. Dressed in his doctor’s gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case.
After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She began to read the following words:
“Paid in full with one glass of milk”
Signed, Dr. Howard Kelly.
Source : http://academictips.org/blogs/a-glass-of-milk-paid-in-full/
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They have been married for two years. He loves literature, and often posts his work on the net, but nobody ever reads them. He is also into photography, and he handle their wedding photos. He loves her very much. Likewise with her. She has a quick temper, and always bullies him. He is a gentleman, and always gives in to her. Today, she's being "willful" again.
Him: "I don't have time that day."
Her: "Humph!"
Him: "Huh?"
Her: "Don't have time? Write less of those novels, and you will have all the time you need."
Him: "I... someone will definitely recognize my work some day."
Her: "Humph! I don't care; you'll have to do it for her.
Him: "No."
Her: "Just this once?"
Him: "No."
Negotiation's broken. So, she gave the final warning: "Give me a Yes within three days, or else..."
First day.
She "withheld" the kitchen, bathroom, computer, refrigerator, television, and hi-fi... Except the double bed, to show her "benevolence". Of course, she has to sleep on it too. He didn't mind, as he still has some cash in his pockets.
Second day.
She conducted a raid and removed everything from his pockets, and warned, "Seek any external help, and you bear the consequences." He's nervous now. Night. On the bed. He begs for mercy, hoping that she'll end this state. She doesn't give a damn. No way am I giving in, whatever he says. Until he agrees.
Third day.
Night. On the Bed. He's lying on the bed, looking to one side. She's lying on the bed, looking to the other side.
Him: "We need to talk."
Her: "Unless it's about the wedding, forget it."
Him: "It's something very important."
She remains silent.
Him: "Let's get a divorce."
She did not believe her ears.
Him: "I got to know a girl."
She's totally angry, and wanted to hit him.
But she held it down, wanting to let him finish.
But her eyes already felt wet.
He took a photo out from his chest.
Probably from his undershirt pocket, that's the only place she didn't go through yesterday. How careless.
Him: "She's a nice girl."
Her tears fell.
Him: "She has a good personality too."
She's heartbroken, because he puts a photo of some other girl "close to his heart".
Him: "She says that she'll support me fully in my pursue for literature after we got married."
She's very jealous, because she said the same thing in the past.
Him: "She loves me truly."
She wishes to sit up and scream at him: "Don't I?"
Him: "So, I think she won't force me to do something that I don't want to do."
She's thinking, but the rage won't subside.
Him: "Want to take a look at the photo I took for her?"
Her: ".....!"
He brings the photo before her eyes.
She's in a total rage, hits his hand away and leaves a burning mark of a slap on his face.
He sighs.
She cries.
He puts the photo back to his pocket.
She pulls her hand back under the blanket.
He turns off the light, and sleeps.
She turns on the light, and sits up.
He's asleep.
She lost sleep.
She regrets treating him the way she treated him.
She cried again, and thought about a lot of things.
She wants to wake him up.
She wants to have an intimate talk with him.
She doesn't want to push him anymore.
She stares at his chest. She wants to see how the girl looks.
She slips the photo out. She wanted to cry, and she wanted to laugh.
It's a nicely taken photo of her. A photo he took for her.
She bends down, and kissed him on his cheek.
He smiled. He was just pretending to be asleep..
Source : http://www.lifeofhope.com/iloveyouhoney.htm
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At a certain moment in Nietzsche's life, the idea came to him of what he called 'the love of your fate.' Whatever your fate is, whatever the heck happens, you say, "This is what I need." It may look like a wreck, but go at it as though it were an opportunity, a challenge.
If you bring love to that moment - not discouragement - you will find the strength is there. Any disaster that you can survive is an improvement in your character, your stature, and your life. What a privilege! This is when the spontaneity of your own nature will have a chance to flow. Then, when looking back at your life, you will see that the moments which seemed to be great failures followed by wreckage were the incidents that shaped the life you have now. You’ll see that this is really true.
Nothing can happen to you that is not positive. Even though it looks and feels at the moment like a negative crisis, it is not.
Source : http://www.inspirationpeak.com/cgi-bin/stories.cgi?record=151 Read More..
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
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 small 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 very 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, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was 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 breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy, Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
Source : http://www.shortstories101.com/inspirational-short-stories/the-most-beautiful-flower.html Read More..
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