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A storeowner was tacking a sign above his door that read 'Puppies for Sale.' These signs had a weird way of attracting children. And sure enough, a little boy appeared at the sign. "How much are you going to sell those puppies for?" he asked. The store owner replied "Anywhere from $30-$50." The little boy reached into his pocket and pulled out some change. "I have $2.37, can I have a look at them?" The storeowner smiled and whistled and out of the kennel came Lady, who ran down the aisle of his store followed by five teeny, tiny balls of fur. One puppy was lagging considerably behind. Immediately the little boy singled out the lagging, limping puppy and said "What's wrong with that little dog?" The storeowner explained that when the puppy was born, the vet had said that the puppy had no hip socket and would limp for the rest of its life. The little boy got really excited and said, "That's the puppy I want to buy!" The storeowner replied, "No, you don't want to buy that little dog. If you really want him, I'll give him to you." The little boy got quite upset. He looked straight into the store owner's eyes, pointing his finger and said," I don't want you to give him to me. That little dog is worth every bit as much as the other dogs and I'll pay the full price. In fact, I'll give you $2.37 now and 50 cents every month until I have him paid for." The storeowner countered, "You really don't want to buy this puppy. He is never going To be able to run, jump and play like other puppies!" To this the little boy reached down and rolled up his pant leg to reveal a badly twisted, crippled left leg supported by a big metal brace. He looked up at the storeowner and said softly, "Well, I don't run so well myself, and the little puppy will need someone who understands."
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| Author: Unknown |
Contributed by admin on Aug 28th, 2008
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In first grade your idea of a good friend was the person who went to the bathroom with you and held your hand as you walked through the scary hall. In second grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you stand up to the class bully. In third grade your idea of a good friend was the person who shared their lunch with you when you forgot yours on the bus. In fourth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who was willing to switch square dancing partners in gym so you wouldn't have to be stuck do-si-do-ing with Nasty Nick or Smelly Susan. In fifth grade your idea of a friend was the person who saved a seat on the back of the bus for you. In sixth grade your idea of a friend was the person who went up to Nick or Susan, your new crush, and asked them to dance with you, so that if they said no you wouldn't have to be embarrassed. In seventh grade your idea of a friend was the person who let you copy the Math homework from the night before that you had. In eighth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pack up your stuffed animals and old baseball but didn't laugh at you when you finished and broke out into tears. In ninth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who would go to a party thrown by a senior so you wouldn't wind up being the only freshman there. In tenth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who changed their schedule so you would have someone to sit with at lunch. In eleventh grade your idea of a good friend was the person who gave you rides in their new car, convinced your parents that you shouldn't be grounded, consoled you when you broke up with Nick [or Glenn] or Susan, and found you a date to the prom. In twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pick out a college /university, assured you that you would get into that college/university, helped you deal with your parents who were having a hard time adjusting to the idea of letting you go... At graduation your idea of a good friend was the person who was crying on the inside but managed the biggest smile one could give as they congratulated you. The summer after twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you clean up the bottles from that party, helped you sneak out of the house when you just couldn't deal with your parents, assured you that now that you and Nick or you and Susan were back together, you could make it through anything, helped you pack up for university and just silently hugged you as you looked through blurry eyes at 18 years of memories you ere leaving behind, and finally on those last days of childhood, went out of their way to give you reassurance that you would make it in college as well as you hadthese past 18 years, and most importantly sent you off to college knowing you were loved. Now, your idea of a good friend is still the person who gives you the better of the two choices, holds your hand when you're scared, helps you fight off those who try to take advantage of you, thinks of you at times when you are not there, reminds you of what you have forgotten, helps you put the past behind you but understands when you need to hold on to it a little longer, stays with you so that you have confidence, goes out of their way to make time for you, helps you clear up your mistakes, helps you deal with pressure from others, smiles for you when they are sad, helps you become a better person,and most importantly loves you!
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| Author: Unknown |
Contributed by admin on Aug 26th, 2008
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Our group had started an outreach to an apartment building in our town. It was a very depressing place, with drug dealers and the hopelessly addicted. One of the tenants whose name is Louie has the mind of an adolescent. A friend of mine, Kathy, promised Louie and others that we would be bringing chili on Sunday. Louie asked me if I would make him some cornbread. He said he hadn't had any for years. I promised him I would. When I went to the store for the week, I had forgotten to pick up some cornmeal. By the time I realized I didn't have the cornmeal, I also realized I didn't have any money. I thought I would surely have enough for cornmeal, but I was broke. I thought about Louie for several days, distraught as to what to do. To me it was like making a promise to a child and then breaking their heart. When I don't know what else to do...I pray, which is what I should have done in the first place. The next day there was a knock on the door. My neighbor was standing on my porch with a sack of cornmeal. She said her husband picked it up instead of flour and that they wouldn't have any need of it. She wondered if those people at the apartments would like to have it.
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| Author: Janice Milbourn |
Contributed by travisludlow on Aug 15th, 2008
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