"Oportunities are usually disguised as hard work. So no one recognizes them."

~Ann Landers~

A Mother's Tear

When God was creating mothers,
He was into His sixth day of "overtime" 
when an angel appeared and said, 
"You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."

And God said, "Have you read the specifications on this order?
She has to be completely washable, but not plastic.
Have 180 moveable parts....all replaceable.
Run on black coffee and leftovers.
Have a lap that disappears when she stands up.
A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg
to a disappointed love affair. And, six pairs of hands." 
The angel shook her head slowly and said "Six pairs of hands....no way."

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said God, 
"It's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."

"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.

God nodded. "One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks,
'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows.
Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't 
but what she has to know, and of course, 
the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and says,
'I understand and I love you', without so much as uttering a word."

"You should scrap it and start over." said the angel.

"I can't," said God, "I'm so close to creating something so close to myself.
Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick...
can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger...
and can get a nine-year-old to stand under a shower."

The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly.
"It's too soft," she sighed.

"But tough," said God excitedly.
"You cannot imagine what this mother can do or endure."

"Can it think?" asked the angel.

"Not only think, but it can reason and compromise." said the Creator.

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.
"There's a leak!" she pronounced.
"I told you you're trying too put too much into this model."

"It's not a leak" said God "it's a tear."

"What's it for?" asked the angel.

"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride."

"You are a genius!" said the angel.

God looked somber....."I didn't put it there."

 

I have received this in email and found it through the internet.

Attributed to Erma Bombeck

     

The Story of Two Teardrops

Two little teardrops were floating down the river of life. One drop said to the other, "I am the teardrop of a girl who loved a man and lost him." Who are you? "Well, I am the teardrop of the girl who won him."

Love is very strange. Love is unconditional commitment to an imperfect individual. You need it but when you love, it's like destining yourself for pain. You become addicted and dependent on the person. You become strong and at the same time, you open yourself up to being hurt. Love can make you bear any kind of pain and any kind of sacrifice. It can also make you feel stupid and act stupidly. Sometimes when you love and end up giving so much of yourself, subconciously you only discover how much you've given when the person you love hurts you or has to say goodbye.

Then you realize, an important part of yourself is already with that person. It goes away when he leaves and you are left with a sickening, empty feeling inside.

Tears are bound to shed from your eyes no matter how you force yourself to keep them in. Most teardrops ever shed on this earth have been for love or lack of it. When tears dry, a silent loss sticks to your heart for a long, long time.

Well, that's what you get for caring so much about someone. But how can you regret it? To give yourself freely and lovingly is the most beautiful thing you can do. Loving makes you real. Loving also makes you cry. And that is why a teardrop is also BEAUTIFUL.

Author Unknown

 

REFLECTIONS 
She came tonight as I sat alone.. 
The girl I used to be.... 
And she gazed at me with her earnest eye 
And questioned reproachfully: 

Have you forgotten the many plans 
And hopes I had for you? 
The great career, the splendid fame, 
all the wonderful things to do? 

Where is the mansion of stately height 
With all its gardens rare? 
The silken robes that I dreamed for you 
And the jewels in your hair? 

And as she spoke, I was very sad 
For I wanted her pleased with me... 
This slender girl from the shadowy past 
The girl that I used to be. 

So gently rising, I took her hand 
And guided her up the stairs 
Where peacefully sleeping, my babies lay 
Innocent, sweet, and fair. 

And I told her that these are my only gems, 
And precious they are to me; 
That silken robes is my motherhood 
Of costly simplicity. 

And my mansion of stately height is love, 
And the only career I know 
Is serving each day in these sheltered walls 
For the dear ones who come and go 

And as I spoke to my shadowy guest, 
She smiled through her tears at me. 
And I saw the woman that I am now 
Pleased the girl I used to be.
author unknown

A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove, but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child. 

Author Unknown

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