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2.      DAD'S STORY
>
>
>On July 22nd I was in route to Washington , DC for a business trip. It was
>all so very ordinary, until we landed in Denver for a plane change. As I
>collected my belongings from the overhead bin, an announcement was made for
>Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Representative
>immediately. I thought nothing of it until I reached the door to leave the
>plane and I heard a gentleman asking every male if he were Mr. Glenn. At
>this point I knew something was wrong and my heart sunk.
>
>When I got off the plane a solemn-faced young man came toward me and said,
>"Mr.
>Glenn, there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the emergency
>is, or who is involved, but I will take you to the phone so you can call
>the hospital." My heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took
>over. Woodenly, I followed this stranger to the distant telephone where I
>called the number he gave me for the Mission Hospital . My call was put
>through to the trauma center where I learned that my three-year-old son had
>been trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several minutes, and
>that when my wife had found him he was dead.
>CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the paramedics
>had continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital.
>
>By the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would live,
>but they did not know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to
>his heart. They explained that the door had completely closed on his little
>sternum right over his heart. He had been severely crushed. After speaking
>with the medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I
>took comfort in her calmness.
>
>The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the
>hospital six hours after the garage door had
>come down. When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have
>prepared me to see my little son laying so still on a great big bed with
>tubes and monitors everywhere. He was on a respirator. I glanced at my wife
>who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed like a
>terrible dream. I was filled-in with the details and given a guarded
>prognosis. Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated
>that his heart was OK, two miracles in and of themselves. But only time
>would tell if his brain received any damage
>
>Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt that
>Brian would eventually be all right. I hung on to her words and faith like
>a lifeline. All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It
>seemed like forever since I had left for my business trip the day
>before.
>
>Finally at two o'clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness and
>sat up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard spoken. He said,
>"Daddy hold me" and he reached for me with his little arms.
>
>[TEAR BREAK..smile]
>
>
>By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or physical
>deficits, and the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the
>hospital. You cannot imagine, we took Brian home, we felt a unique
>reverence for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those
>who brush death so closely.
>
>In the days that followed there was a special spirit about
>our home. Our two older children were much closer to their little brother.
>My wife and I were much closer to each other, and all of us were very close
>as a whole family. Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed
>to be more focused, and balance much easier to gain and maintain. We felt
>deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound.
>
>The story is not over (smile)!
>
>Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his
>afternoon nap and said, "Sit down Mommy.. I have something to tell you." At
>this time in his life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to say a
>large sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed, and he
>began his sacred and remarkable story.
>
>"Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage
>door? Well, it was so heavy and it hurt really bad. I called to you, but
>you couldn't hear me. I started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And then
>the 'birdies' came"
>
>"The birdies?" my wife asked puzzled.
>
>"Yes," he replied. "The birdies made a whooshing sound and flew into the
>garage. They took care of me."
>
>"They did?"
>
>"Yes," he said. "One of the birdies came and got you. She came to tell you
>"I got stuck under the door." A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The
>spirit was so strong and yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a
>three-year-old had no concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to
>the beings who came to him from beyond as "birdies" because they were up in
>the air like birds that fly.. "What did the birdies look like?" she asked.
>
>Brian answered, "They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white, all
>white. Some of
>them had green and white. But some of them had on just white."
>
>"Did they say anything?"
>
>"Yes," he answered. "They told me the baby would be all right."
>
>"The baby?" my wife asked confused.
>
>Brian answered. "The baby laying on the garage floor." He went on, "You
>came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told the baby
>to stay and not leave."
>
>My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had indeed gone and
>knelt beside Brian's body and seeing his crushed chest whispered, "Don't
>leave us Brian, please stay if you can." As she listened to Brian telling
>her the words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left His
>body and was looking down from above on this little lifeless form.. "Then
>what happened?" she asked.
>
>"We went on a trip," he said, "far, far away." He grew agitated trying to
>say the things he didn't
>seem to have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and let
>him know it would be okay. He struggled with wanting to tell something that
>obviously was very important to him, but finding the words was difficult.
>
>"We flew so fast up in the air. They're so pretty Mommy," he added.
>
>"And there are lots and lots of birdies." My wife was stunned. Into her
>mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped her more soundly, but with an
>urgency she had never before known. Brian went on to tell her that the
>"birdies" had told him that he had to come back and tell everyone about the
>"birdies." He said they brought him back to the house and that a big fire
>truck, and an ambulance were there. A man was bringing the baby out on a
>white bed and he tried to tell the man that the baby would be
>okay. The story went on for an hour.
>
>He taught us that "birdies" were always with us, but we don't see them
>because we look with our eyes and we don't hear them because we listen with
>our ears. But they are always there, you can only see them in here (he put
>his hand over his heart). They whisper the things to help us to do what is
>right because they love us so much. Brian continued, stating, "I have a
>plan, Mommy. You have a plan.. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We
>must all live our plan and keep our promises. The birdies help us to do
>that cause they love us so much."
>
>In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or part of
>it, again and again. Always the story remained the same. The details were
>never changed or out of order. A few times he added further bits of
>information and clarified the message he had already delivered It never
>ceased to
>amaze us how he could tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he
>talked about his birdies.
>
>Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the "birdies." Surprisingly, no
>one ever looked at him strangely when he did this. Rather, they always got
>a softened look on their face and smiled. Needless to say, we have not been
>the same ever since that day, and I pray we never will be.
>
>You have just been sent an Angel to watch over you. Some people come into
>our lives and quickly go...Some people become friends and stay a
>while...leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts ... and we are never
>quite the same because we have made a good friend!!
>
>Yesterday is history. Tomorrow a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it's
>called the present! Live and savor every moment...this is not a dress
>rehearsal! THIS IS A SPECIAL GUARDIAN ANGEL...

3.      DIRECTIONS  TO  OUR  FATHER'S  HOUSE.

    Make a Right onto Believeth Blvd.  Keep straight and go through
  the Green Light, which is Jesus Christ.  There, you must turn onto
  the Bridge of Faith, which is over troubled water.

    Now when you get off the bridge, make a Right turn and Keep
  Straight.  You are on the King's Highway - Heaven-bound.
  Keep going for three miles:  One for the Father, One for the Son,
  and One for the Holy Spirit.

    Then take the Grace Blvd exit.  From there, make a Right turn
  on Gospel Lane.  Keep Straight and then make another Right on
  Prayer Road.  As you go on your way, Yield Not to the traffic on
  Temptation Ave.  Also, avoid SIN  STREET because it is a DEAD
  END.  Pass up Envy Drive, and Hate Avenue.  Also, pass
  Hypocrisy Street, Gossiping Lane, and Backbiting Blvd.

    However, you will have to go down Long-suffering Lane,
  Persecution Blvd. and Trials and Tribulations Ave, but that's all
  right, because VICTORY Street is straight ahead!     AMEN!
                                                      ( Author Unknown )

4.      Two Choices

What would you do? You make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"

The audienc e was stilled by the query.

The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child."

Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?"  Shay's

father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his hon their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some handicaps.
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our t eam and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."

Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. 
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have be en the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball ... the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All w ere screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay"

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third!"

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

"That day", said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world".
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

5.      I Believe

A Birth Certificate shows that we were born.

A Death Certificate shows that we died.

Pictures show that we lived!

Relax. And read this slowly.

I believe - That just because two people argue, it
doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just
because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.

I believe - That we don't have to change friends if
we understand that friends change.

I believe - That no matter how good a friend is,
they're going to hurt you every once in a while and
you must forgive them for that.

I believe - That true friendship continues to grow,
even over the longest distance. Same goes for true
love.

I believe - That you can do something in an instant
that will give you heartache for life.

I believe - That it's taking me a long time to become
the person I want to be.

I believe - That you should always leave loved ones
with loving words. It may be the last time you see
them.

I believe - That you can keep going long after you
think you can't.

I believe - That we are responsible for what we do, no
matter how we feel.

I believe - That either you control your attitude or
it controls you.

I believe - That heroes are the people who do what
has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of
the consequences.

I believe - That money is a lousy way of keeping
score.

I believe - That my best friend and I can do anything
or nothing and have the best time.

I believe - That sometimes the people you expect to
kick you when you're down, will be the ones to help
you get back up.

I believe - That sometimes when I'm angry I have the
right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right
to be cruel.

I believe - That maturity has more to do with what
types of experiences you've had and what you've
learned from them and less to do with how many
birthdays you've celebrated.

I believe - That it isn't always enough to be forgiven
by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive
yourself.

I believe - That no matter how bad your heart is
broken the world doesn't stop for your grief.

I believe - That our background and circumstances may
have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for
who we become.

I believe - That you shouldn't be so eager to find out
a secret. It could change your life forever.

I believe - Two people can look at the exact same
thing and see something totally different.

I believe - That your life can be changed in a matter
of hours by people who don't even know you.

I believe - . That even when you think you have no
more to give, when a friend cries out to you - you
will find the strength to help.

I believe - That credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being. I believe - That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon. I believe

6.