Stories to inspire

[FineLinen]

The Hand

Thanksgiving Day was near. The first grade teacher gave her class a fun assignment — to draw a picture of something for which they were thankful.

Most of the class might be considered economically disadvantaged, but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey and other traditional goodies of the season. These, the teacher thought, would be the subjects of most of her student’s art. And they were.

But Douglas made a different kind of picture.

Douglas was a different kind of boy. He was the teacher’s true child of misery, frail and unhappy. As other children played at recess, Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess at the pain Douglas felt behind those sad eyes.

Yes, his picture was different. When asked to draw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just an empty hand.

His abstract image captured the imagination of his peers. Whose hand could it be One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because farmers raise turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because the police protect and care for people. Still others guessed it was the hand of God, for God feeds us. And so the discussion went — until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.

When the children had gone on to other assignments, she paused at Douglas’ desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was.

The little boy looked away and muttered, It’s yours, teacher.

She recalled the times she had taken his hand and walked with him here or there, as she had the other students. How often had she said, Take my hand, Douglas, we’ll go outside. Or, Let me show you how to hold your pencil. Or, Let’s do this together. Douglas was most thankful for his teacher’s hand.

Brushing aside a tear, she went on with her work.

This story speaks of more than thankfulness. It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing friendship, and how much it means to the Douglases of the world. They might not always say thanks. But they’ll remember the hand that reaches out.

 

[FineLinen]

Abraham Lincoln First Day in Office

Abraham Lincoln entered to give his inaugural address, one man stood up. He was a rich Aristocrat. He said, “Mr. Lincoln, you should not forget that your father used to make shoes for my family.”

And the whole Senate laughed; they thought they had made a fool of Lincoln.

But certain people are made of a totally different mettle. Lincoln looked at the man directly in the eye and said,

“Sir, I know that my father used to make shoes for your family, and there will be many others here. Because he made shoes the way nobody else can, he was a creator. His shoes were not just shoes; he poured his whole soul into them. I want to ask you, have you any complaint? Because I know how to make shoes myself. If you have any complaint I can make you another pair of shoes. But as far as I know, nobody has ever complained about my father’s shoes. He was a genius, a great creator and I am proud of my father”.

The whole Senate was struck dumb. They could not understand what kind of man Abraham Lincoln was. He was proud because his father did his job so well that not even a single complaint had ever been heard.

Remember:

“No one can hurt you without your consent.”

“It is not what happens to us that hurts us. It is our response that hurts us. Be excellent at your work no matter what work you do, happiness is always yours.”

 

[FineLinen]

“Great Is Thy Faithfulness”
The Story Behind the Hymn

Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning, great is Your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, ‘Therefore I hope in Him!” Lamentations 3:22-24

You don’t need to be rescued from life-threatening danger or see God’s miraculous provision in the direst of financial crises to truly know the faithfulness of the Lord. God remains faithful day in and day out in the largest and smallest of circumstances.

Thomas Chisholm wrote “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” as a testament to God’s faithfulness through his very ordinary life.

Born in a log cabin in Franklin, Kentucky, Chisholm became a Christian when he was twenty-seven and entered the ministry when he was thirty-six, though poor health forced him to retire after just one year. During the rest of his life, Chisholm spent many years living in New Jersey and working as a life insurance agent.

Still, even with a desk job, he wrote nearly 1,200 poems throughout his life, including several published hymns.

Chisholm explained toward the end of his life, “My income has not been large at any time due to impaired health in the earlier years which has followed me on until now. Although I must not fail to record here the unfailing faithfulness of a covenant-keeping God and that He has given me many wonderful displays of His providing care, for which I am filled with astonishing gratefulness.”

Just think, with each new day, God gives us the chance to prove His faithfulness. And throughout history, He’s never once been proven wrong, for His mercies are new every morning, no matter what.

 

[FineLinen]

Teddy Stoddard

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth.

Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.

It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners ... he is a joy to be around."

His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."

His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thomson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left, she cried for at least an hour.

On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD .

The story does not end there.

You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.

Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you, Mrs. Thompson, for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

Warm someone's heart today … pass this along. Just try to make a difference in someone's life today … tomorrow … just do it.

Random acts of kindness, I think they call it?

"Believe in angels, then return the favor."

 

[FineLinen]

A Child’s Prayer

Dear God, are You still awake?
Have You got a minute or two?

You’re pretty good at understanding,
And I really need to talk to You.

You see, Mommy came to tuck me in,
Like she does every night.
I was trying to play a trick on her,
Since she can’t see without the light.

I was going to close my eyes
And pretend to be asleep.
But when I heard her crying,
I didn’t dare let out a peep.

She started talking to you, God.
Did You hear the things she said?
Could You hear what she was saying
As she stood beside my bed?

Why would Mommy be so sad?
I wondered just what I had done,
And then I began to remember
it all As she named them one by one…

This morning we worked in the garden,
But, honest, I really didn’t know
That if I picked all those little yellow blooms
The tomatoes wouldn’t grow!

Charlie and I were trying to be helpers,
'Cause I know that’s what Mommy needs,
But I don’t think she was too happy with us
when we pulled up carrots instead of weeds.

Mommy said we should stop for the day,
she decided we had helped quite enough.
I sure had worked up an appetite…
I didn’t know gardening was so tough!

we had peanut-butter and jelly for lunch
and I shared too much, I guess…
But I didn’t realize until I was done
that Charlie had made such a mess.

Mommy said she needed a nap,
she had one of her headaches today.
She told me to keep an eye on my sister
and find something quiet to play.

Well, God, do You remember all those curls
you gave my little sister Jenny?
We played barber shop…very quietly…
and now, well, she doesn’t have any.

Boy, was Mommy mad at me…
I had to go sit on my bed.
She said never to cut “people hair” again.
I guess I’ll practice on Charlie instead.

We sat and watched poor old Albert,
I just knew he must be so bored
Going round and round
in the same place all day,
Wouldn’t You think so, Lord?

I didn’t think it would hurt
to let him out for a while.
I mean, mice need exercise, too.
By the way, have You seen Albert lately?
He’s been sort of missing since two.

Mommy sent us outside for the rest of the day.
She said we needed fresh air.
But when Daddy came home she told him
he was trying to get something out of her hair.

We thought Mommy needed cheering up,
so we decided to brighten her day.
But, God, did You see the look on her face
When we gave her that pretty bouquet?

We had gotten a little bit dirty,
so Mommy said to get in the tub.
“Use soap this time,” she reminded,
“and please don’t forget to scrub.”

Charlie didn’t like the water too much,
but I lathered up real good.
I knew Mommy would be so proud of me
For cleaning up like I should.

I went downstairs to the table,
but during dinner it started to rain…
I’d forgotten to turn off the water, it seems,
and I hadn’t unplugged the drain!

I decided right then it was just about time
to start getting ready for bed,
When Mommy said, "It’s sure been a long day,
" And her face began turning all red.

I lay there listening to Mommy
as she told You about our day.
I thought about all of the things I had done
and I wondered what I should say.

I was just about to tell her
that I’d been awake all along,
And ask her to please forgive me
for all of those thing I’d done wrong.

When suddenly, I heard her whisper,
"God, forgive me for today…
For not being more understanding
when those problems came my way…

For not handling situations in the way
You wanted me to…for getting angry
and losing my temper,
Things I know You don’t want me to do.

And, God, please give me more patience,
Help me make it through another day,
I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise…
"In Jesus’ name I pray."

Wiping her eyes, she kissed me
and knelt here beside my bed.
She stroked my hair for a little while…"
I love you, precious," Mommy said.

She left the room without ever knowing
That I’d been awake all the time.
And God, could we make it our little secret?
You know, just Yours and mine?

I’m sorry I was so much trouble today,
I really didn’t mean to be…
Daddy says it’s tough being a kid sometimes,
but I think it’s harder on Mommy than me.

Well, goodnight, God. Thanks for listening.
It’s sure nice to know You’re there.
I feel so much better when I talk to You
'cause You always hear my prayer.

And I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise…
Just You wait and see!
I’ll try not to be so much trouble again,
But, God,
please give more patience to Mommy
…Just in case! Amen.

 

[FineLinen]

The House with the Golden Windows

A little girl lived in a small, very simple, poor house on a hill.

She loved to play in the small garden. As she grew up, she was able to see over the garden fence and across the valley to a wonderful house high on the hill. This house had golden windows, so golden and shining that the little girl would dream of how magic it would be to grow up and live in a house with golden windows instead of an ordinary house like hers.

And although she loved her parents and her family, she yearned to live in such a golden house and dreamed all day about how wonderful and exciting it must feel to live there.
When she got to an age where she gained enough skill and sensibility to go outside her garden fence, she asked her mother if she could go for a bike ride outside the gate and down the lane. After pleading with her, her mother finally agreed, insisting that she kept close to the house and didn't wander too far.

The day was beautiful and the little girl knew exactly where she was heading! Down the lane and across the valley, she rode her bike until she got to the gate of the golden house across on the other hill.

As she dismounted her bike and lent it against the gate post, she focused on the path that lead to the house and then on the house itself... And was so disappointed as she realized all the windows were plain and rather dirty, reflecting nothing other than the sad neglect of the house that stood derelict. So sad that she didn't go any further and turned, heart broken as she remounted her bike ...

As she glanced up she saw a sight to amaze her... There, across the way on her side of the valley was a little house and its windows glistened golden ... as the sun shone on her little home.

She realized that she had been living in her golden house and all the love and care she found there was what made her home the 'golden house'.

Everything she dreamed was right there in front of her nose!

 

[FineLinen]

No hope.

As a group of frogs was traveling through the woods, two of them fell into a deep pit. When the other frogs crowded around the pit and saw how deep it was, they told the two frogs that there was no hope left for them.

However, the two frogs decided to ignore what the others were saying and they proceeded to try and jump out of the pit.

Despite their efforts, the group of frogs at the top of the pit were still saying that they should just give up. That they would never make it out.

Eventually, one of the frogs took heed to what the others were saying and he gave up, falling down to his death.

The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die.

He jumped even harder and finally made it out. When he got out, the other frogs said, “Did you not hear us?”

The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the entire time.

Moral of the story=

People’s words can have a big effect on other’s lives. Think about what you say before it comes out of your mouth. It might just be the difference between life and death.

 

[FineLinen]

One day a woman was walking down the street when she spied a beggar sitting on the corner.

The man was elderly, unshaven, and ragged. As he sat there, pedestrians walked by him giving him dirty looks They clearly wanted nothing to do with him because of who he was -- a dirty, homeless man. But when she saw him, the woman was moved to compassion.

It was very cold that day and the man had his tattered coat -- more like an old suit coat rather than a warm coat -- wrapped around him. She stopped and looked down. "Sir?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

The man slowly looked up. This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new. She looked like that she had never missed a meal in her life. His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before. "Leave me alone," he growled.

To his amazement, the woman continued standing. She was smiling -- her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the president. Now go away."

The woman's smile became even broader. Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm. "What are you doing, lady?" the man asked angrily. "I said to leave me alone."

Just then a policeman came up. "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked.

"No problem here, officer," the woman answered. "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet. Will you help me?"

The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?"

"See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."

"Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted. "I don't want to go in there!" Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up. "Let me go, officer. I didn't do anything."

"This is a good deal for you, Jack," the officer answered. "Don't blow it."

Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner. It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived. The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by the table. "What's going on here, officer?" he asked. "What is all this. Is this man in trouble?"

"This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.

"Not in here!" the manager replied angrily. "Having a person like that here is bad for business."

Old Jack smiled a toothless grin. "See, lady. I told you so. Now if you'll let me go. I didn't want to come here in the first place."

The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled. "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"

"Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently. "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."

"And do you make a good profit from providing food at the weekly meetings?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, president and CEO of the company."

"Oh."

The woman smiled again. "I thought that might make a difference." She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a giggle. "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"

"No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied. "I'm on duty."

"Then, perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"

"Yes, ma'am. That would be very nice."

The cafeteria manager turned on his heel. "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."

The officer watched him walk away. "You certainly put him in his place," he said.

"That was not my intent. Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this." She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest. She stared at him intently.

"Jack, do you remember me?"

Old Jack searched her face with his old, rheumy eyes "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar."

"I'm a little older perhaps," she said. "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."

"Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly. He couldn't believe that such a magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry.

"I was just out of college," the woman began. "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything. Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment. I walked the streets for days. It was February and I was cold and nearly starving. I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."

Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said. "I was behind the serving counter. You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat. I said that it was against company policy."

"I know," the woman continued. "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it. I was afraid that you would get into trouble.

Then, when I looked over, I saw you put the price of my food in the cash register. I knew then that everything would be all right."

"So you started your own business?" Old Jack said.

"I got a job that very afternoon. I worked my way up. Eventually I started my own business that, with the help of God, prospered." She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons. He's the personnel director of my company. I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office." She smiled. "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet And if you ever need anything, my door is always opened to you."

There were tears in the old man's eyes. "How can I ever thank you," he said.

"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. Thank Jesus. He led me to you."

Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways. "Thank you for all your help, officer," she said.

"On the contrary, Ms. Eddy," he answered. "Thank you. I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget. And... And thank you for the coffee."

She frowned. "I forgot to ask you whether you used cream or sugar. That's black."

The officer looked at the steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "Yes, I do take cream and sugar -- perhaps more sugar than is good for me." He patted his ample stomach.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I don't need it now," he replied smiling. "I've got the feeling that this coffee you bought me is going to taste as sweet as sugar."

 

[FineLinen]

There are more words in the Oxford English Dictionary than any one individual could possibly know.

In the second edition of the 20-volume series, published in 1989, there are 171,476 words in current use and 41,156 obsolete words.

With so many to choose from, could you select just three to live by?

The three that come to mind when I pondered this question are faith, hope and love. To me, these are more than just words they are powerful forces in life that fuel my spirit to live, survive and thrive. As water, oxygen and food are needed to fuel the body faith, hope and love are needed to fuel the spirit.

Without faith, hope and love, it would be difficult to live a life full of meaning and purpose.

When life events shake our foundation, it is our faith that provides us with the courage to endure and overcome hardship. When fear gets the best of us, our hope for a better tomorrow keeps us moving forward. And as the Apostle Paul wrote, "there are three things that remain faith, hope and love and the greatest of these is love."

Love is a gift from God Himself; it allows us to overcome hate, evil, resentment and other destructive emotions. Our love for ourselves and for others defines what we want in life and the actions we take to achieve it.

In her memoir, The Choice: Embrace the Possible, author and holocaust survivor, Dr. Edith Eva Eger wrote, Auschwitz, at Mauthausen, on the Death March, I survived by drawing on my inner world. I found hope and faith in life within me, even when I was surrounded by starvation and torture and death.

She survived because her hope and faith remained strong; she knew that she wanted to live so she never gave up. Her love for herself and life got her through this horrid time in history.

Our lives are enhanced when hope, love and faith are the essence of our existence. They help us to live each and every day with meaning and purpose.

Lord, let hope, faith and love infuse our being, living and thinking.

https://www.guideposts.org/inspirati...eaningful-life

 

[FineLinen]

The Obstacle In Our Path

In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. He then hid himself and watched to see if anyone would move the boulder out of the way. Some of the king’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it.

Many people loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but none of them did anything about getting the stone out of the way.

A peasant then came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to push the stone out of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded.

After the peasant went back to pick up his vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been.

The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King explaining that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway.

Moral of the story =

Every obstacle we come across in life gives us an opportunity to improve our circumstances, and while the lazy complain, the others are creating opportunities through their kind hearts, generosity, and willingness to get things done.

 

[ĹIOLI]

There are more words in the Oxford English Dictionary than any one individual could possibly know.

In the second edition of the 20-volume series, published in 1989, there are 171,476 words in current use and 41,156 obsolete words.

With so many to choose from, could you select just three to live by?

The three that come to mind when I pondered this question are faith, hope and love. To me, these are more than just words they are powerful forces in life that fuel my spirit to live, survive and thrive. As water, oxygen and food are needed to fuel the body faith, hope and love are needed to fuel the spirit.

Without faith, hope and love, it would be difficult to live a life full of meaning and purpose.

When life events shake our foundation, it is our faith that provides us with the courage to endure and overcome hardship. When fear gets the best of us, our hope for a better tomorrow keeps us moving forward. And as the Apostle Paul wrote, "there are three things that remain faith, hope and love and the greatest of these is love."

Love is a gift from God Himself; it allows us to overcome hate, evil, resentment and other destructive emotions. Our love for ourselves and for others defines what we want in life and the actions we take to achieve it.

In her memoir, The Choice: Embrace the Possible, author and holocaust survivor, Dr. Edith Eva Eger wrote, Auschwitz, at Mauthausen, on the Death March, I survived by drawing on my inner world. I found hope and faith in life within me, even when I was surrounded by starvation and torture and death.

She survived because her hope and faith remained strong; she knew that she wanted to live so she never gave up. Her love for herself and life got her through this horrid time in history.

Our lives are enhanced when hope, love and faith are the essence of our existence. They help us to live each and every day with meaning and purpose.

Lord, let hope, faith and love infuse our being, living and thinking.

https://www.guideposts.org/inspirati...eaningful-life

I just purchased a 12 volume (printed 1970) Oxford English Dictionary, each volume is as big as any atlas and twice as thick. The first word I looked up was 'trespass'. What got me started was having some misguided SS member put me straight by reading me the Merriam-Webster definition of trespass to me in Sunday School class.
Albert Swytzer (sic) wrote a book around 1901 about Jesus and his apocryphal writings in Mark. Swytzer said and everyone agreed the Jesus' word must be understood in their estalogical (sic) interpretation.
Same goes for the KJV and all of those that copied it.
Since OED is the first sanction and extensive work of this kind and was not available until the late 19th and early 20th century all words before were defined by their usage.
Hence; in 1553 ce T Wilson Rhet. 49 Sometimes a man is accused of felonye, and yet he proueth his offence to be but a trespace. This the language at the time of Elizabeth I and the language of the KJV translator. But 160 years after the KJV a new usage shows. 1767 Comyns Digest V. 534 Trespass to the Person may be by Menace, Assault, Battery or Mayhem.
How did the meaning change and by whom, I look at our Theologians. Why?

 

[FineLinen]

There’s Always Room at His Table

In September of 1985, when I was 24, my folks decided to get divorced. I was taught that to be a good son, I needed to be supportive and loving to each parent and to my siblings. But nobody was talking to anybody.

If you were nice to one parent, the other one would get mad at you. So when October came, I thought, What’s going to happen at Thanksgiving? And I just did not like the thought of being home alone—or anywhere alone—on Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is not about gifts or fireworks or hoopla. It’s a meal around a table where you give thanks for the blessings you have, and you really can’t do that by yourself and have much fun.

I decided to put an ad in the local paper: If people thought they would find themselves alone, they could give me a call, and I would make a Thanksgiving dinner. That first year, a few people came, and they had a good time. I was nervous about making a mess out of the food and disappointing people. But the food was OK, and I didn’t burn anything.

I’ve held the dinner every year since.

Last Thanksgiving, 84 people showed up. Sometimes they’re new to town; sometimes they’re recently divorced or widowed. I’ve had people who were new to the country and didn’t speak any English, but they enjoyed my Thanksgiving dinner. I’ve had poor people, people who come from AA, old people. Also, not counted within that number: I always feed the police. The firefighters and EMTs are in buildings with kitchens and can have their own Thanksgiving dinner among themselves, but the police officers are in their cars, driving around town on call.

Two years ago, a woman with Parkinson’s disease came, and she was not good on her feet. She had been in a nursing home for seven years and had never been out. Somebody told her about the dinner, and she hired an ambulance to bring her, at $200 plus mileage. She had a great time, and she cried when the ambulance returned to get her. She didn’t want to go home.

Most of the people who come don’t know who I am.

They know that there’s some skinny guy in the kitchen, but they don’t know my name. I think the theme of my life, and everything I do, could be summed up with the name of an old hymn called “Brighten the Corner Where You Are.”

I hope my legacy will be that I came into the world, I brightened the corner, and then I quietly left the world unnoticed.

Recorded on October 21, 2010.

This year, Scott will host his 28th Thanksgiving dinner, which will be held at the First Baptist Church in Melrose, Massachusetts. He’ll spend the day before the feast decorating the room, and on Thanksgiving, he’ll arrive at 4 a.m. to put the turkeys in the oven. -Scott Macaulay-

 

[Onoma]

I was in my 30's, and had ended up losing everything, lost my family due to tragic circumstance, ended up with two types of cancer, and was homeless ( I had basically just given up on life )

I had decided that cancer was my death sentence and had relegated myself to living in the woods ( Bad choice, it turned out to be the coldest winter on record in my area for 30 years )

One day, I had a few dollars in my pocket, ( Literally ) and I schlepped down to McD's ( Something I normally avoid like the plague ) because I had gotten tired of crawling into dumpsters looking for food

I bought several burgers, and as I sat in the corner, observing the lunchtime crowd come and go, I noticed a man come in, and go from person to person, engaging each in a short conversation then moving to the next

He was trying to sell some posters he had hand drawn, but there were no takers

He looked over, saw me watching, then came over to give me his sales pitch. I calmly listened to his pitch, which was essentially " I'm hungry, I'm trying to sell these so I can get some food "

Now,... I am well familiar with the rough life of being homeless, as not only was I myself homeless at the time, I had spent most of my teen years on the streets, hooked on drugs, being a hellion child, etc, but ,..I also know that due to outreach programs, churches, and food banks, that even if one is homeless in my town, 3 squares a day is easily had for free, so there's no reason to sell things to eat

So, I just gave him 2 burgers, which he sat down and inhaled, and after he was finished, I asked what his story was, how he'd ended up in this situation ( I hadn't told him I was also not doing great ), and he told a tale I've seen and lived firsthand, and that is an addiction to crack ( My teen years )

He had been a successful contractor, had his own business, 20 or so employees, married, kids, and had lost it all in a few short months

I felt so bad for this man, because I knew what it was like to end up at the bottom, so I in turn told him my story, I admitted to being homeless, sick, etc, and for some reason he was just shocked that I would have given him 2/3 of my food when I myself was scraping bottom

We sat and talked for some time, perhaps 45 minutes, and he told me of wanting to get his life back together, and wanting to go to school to become an architect, I wished him luck and we parted ways

I trundled back to my little shelter I had built in the woods, and as I sat there, looking out of the doorway and watching the birds eat ( I always feed the birds ), I started to think about what was in front of me

Little tiny fragile birds, walking around in the snow, in temperatures that were about -10f ....I was partially frozen, yet these little birds were hopping around, happily chirping, seemingly without a care in the world, oblivious to the harsh environment I found myself surrounded by

I thought to myself, " That's true grit right there, why am I not as tough as a little bird ? "

Then, slowly, the birds had their fill and embarked on their daily flights, leaving me to my silence, but more importantly, the question in my mind

As I pondered, one small sparrow landed in front of me to feed, and I immediately thought it odd, as these birds usually travel in groups, with family and friends

This particular sparrow, had a deformity, a club foot, and was basically hobbling around with one foot, and had been ostracized from it's community ( Common with animals in the wild when one has a deformity )

Realistically, in the wild, animals that have deformities / injuries don't fare that well, they end up being eaten, or die from their inability to feed themselves

Then, I thought " Why am I not as tough as THAT sparrow ? ", because that was the one I really identified with

This was the day when I decided I could not give up

It took several months to eventually find two jobs, then maintain them all the while keeping it a secret that I was living in the woods, had cancer, etc

I just kept my nose to the wheel and moved on, always remembering that one sparrow

Now during this time of trying to get it back together, I would occasionally run into the man I met in McDonalds, in the library, where he would come to study ( He had found a residence, gotten stable, then entered school to become an architect ) and every few weeks I would run into him in the library

I eventually regained my hold on life, and the last time I ran into him, he had just become a certified architect and was getting back together with his family

All that from a few cheap hamburgers and a crippled sparrow, who would have thunk it

 

[FineLinen]

"That's Right, God Doesn't Exist."

When they eventually touched on the subject of God, Mike said: 'I don't believe that God exists.'

"Why do you say that?" asked Bill.

"Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist. Tell me Bill, if God exists, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain. I can't imagine a loving God who would allow all of these things."

Bill thought for a moment, but didn't respond because he didn't want to start an argument. Mike finished his barbering job and Bill left the shop. Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard. He looked dirty and unkempt.

Bill turned back and entered the barbershop again and he said to Mike, the barber:

"You know what? Barbers do not exist."

"How can you say that?' asked the surprised barber. "I am here, and I am a barber. And I just worked on you!"

"No!" Bill exclaimed.

"'Barbers don't exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside."

"Ah, but barbers do exist! That's what happens when people do not come to me."

"Exactly!' Bill affirmed.

"That's the point! God, too, does exist! And that's what happens when people do not come to God too."

 

[FineLinen]

Never Give Up.

9 Famous People Who Will Inspire You to Never Give Up | The Muse

 

[FineLinen]

Martha Mason

Martha Mason graduated valedictorian of her high school and earned two college degrees at the top of the class—all while living her life in an iron lung.

Paralyzed by polio at age 11 in 1948 and confined 23 hours a day in an immobile, 800-pound horizontal tube, the voracious reader stayed “endlessly curious”—and amazingly adaptable.

Custom-built intercoms connected her to school and made her a “regular member” in her classes, with the technology helping her from high school through Wake Forest College (now University), where the English major arrived at her dorm room in a bakery truck.

By the time she died in 2009, Mason had been in the iron lung for a record-setting 60 years. “Something happens to all of us,” she said in a documentary about her.

“Mine is more visible than yours, but you have to deal with your things, too. None of us are exempt from things that would make us extraordinary people if the world knew the story.”

 

[FineLinen]

The Eagle Story

Someone once told me a story about a wounded eagle who was rescued by a kindly farmer. He found the bird in one of his fields, and so took him home, tended to his wounds, and then placed him outside in the barnyard to recover.

Strangely enough, the young eaglet soon adapted to the habits of all the barnyard chickens. He learned to walk and cluck like them. He learned to drink from a trough and peck the dirt for food, and for many years he peacefully resigned himself to this new life on the ground.

But then one day, one of the farmer’s friends spotted the eagle and asked, “Why in the world is that bird acting like a chicken?” The farmer told him what had happened, yet the man could hardly accept the situation.

“It’s just not right,” said the friend. “The Creator made that bird to soar in the heavens, not scavenge in the barnyard!”

So he picked up the unsuspecting eagle, climbed onto a nearby fence post, and tossed him into the air. But the confused bird just fell back to earth and scurried off in search of his feathered friends.

-Continued below-

The Eagle Story | The King's High Way Ministries

 

[FineLinen]

The Wranglers & Stranglers

Many years ago there were a group of brilliant young men at the University of Wisconsin. The group of men seemed to have an amazing creative literary talent and were extraordinary in their ability to put their literary skills to its best use. These promising young men met regularly to read and critique each other’s literary works.

These men were merciless while they criticized one another.

They dissected the most minute of the expressions and offered tough and even mean criticism to each others work. Their meeting sessions became arenas of literary criticism and the members of this exclusive club called themselves the “Stranglers.”

Not to be excluded to the opportunity to level up there literary skills, the women of literary interest in the university started a club of their own, one comparable to Stranglers. The members called themselves the “ Wranglers.” The members of the club too presented their literary pieces in front of each another. But the feedback from the members were much more softer, more positive and more encouraging. Every effort from a member, even the most feeble one, was encouraged by all.

After twenty years, a university alumnus was doing a study of his classmates’ career when he noticed a large difference in the literary accomplishments of the Stranglers and the Wranglers.

Among all the brilliant young men in the strangler, none had made any significant literary achievement. But the Wranglers had several successful writers and some renowned national literary talents.

The talent and the education between the two groups were almost the same. There were not much difference. The Stranglers strangled each other while the Wranglers gave each other a lift. The stranglers created atmosphere of contention and self doubt while the Wranglers brought out the best in each other.

https://alltimeshortstories.com/wran...nd-stranglers/

 

[FineLinen]

There once was a man who fell into a pit.

A pessimist walked by and said: You will never get out of that pit.

An optimist walked by and said: You will get out of that pit.

A judgmental person yelled down as he walked away: If you were watching where you were going, you would not have fallen into a pit.

A Pharisee sneered while walking past and said: God will judge you for falling in that pit.

A tax collector said: You have to pay taxes on that pit.

Someone laughed while walking by, someone shed a tear while walking by and Jesus stopped and lifted him out.

 

[FineLinen]

How do you want to be remembered?

More than a decade ago, a man was reading his morning newspaper. To his surprise and horror, he read his name in the obituary column. The news papers had mistakenly reported the death of the wrong person for sure. He was shocked to read news headline about his death.

When he regained his composure, He read it to find out what people had said about him.

The obituary included sentences like, “Dynamite King Dies.” and “He was the merchant of death.”. The man was the inventor of dynamite and when he read the words “merchant of death,” he asked himself a question,

“Is this how I am going to be remembered?” he asked himself. He decided that this was not the way he wanted to be remembered and he decided to change.

From that day on, he started working toward world peace. His name was Alfred Nobel and he is remembered today by the great Nobel Prize, the greatest of all the prizes.

The Nobel Prize has been honoring men and women from all corners of the globe for outstanding achievements in physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and for work in peace since 1901.

The foundations for the prize were laid in 1895 when Alfred Nobel wrote his last will, leaving much of his wealth to the establishment of the Nobel Prize.

How do you want to be remembered | Short Story