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WITandWISDOM(tm) - May 2, 2002 ISSN 1538-8794 ~~~~~~~ THOUGHTS: In hours of loss and sorrow, when the spurious props fail us, we are more apt to find our way back to the real refuge. - Rufus M Jones Source: Peter's Pearls, http://www.peterspearls.com.au Subjects: Difficulties ~~~~~~~ SPECIAL THOUGHTS: THE GREATEST OF THESE IS . . . By Nanette Thorsen-Snipes mailto:JSnipes212@aol.com My day began on a decidedly sour note when I saw my six-year-old wrestling with a limb of my azalea bush. By the time I got outside, he'd broken it. "Can I take this to school today?" he asked. With a wave of my hand, I sent him off. I turned my back so he wouldn't see the tears gathering in my eyes. I loved that azalea bush. I touched the broken limb as if to say silently, "I'm sorry." I wished I could have said that to my husband earlier, but I'd been angry. The washing machine had leaked on my brand-new linoleum. If he'd just taken the time to fix it the night before when I asked him instead of playing checkers with Jonathan. What are his priorities anyway? I wondered. I was still mopping up the mess when Jonathan walked into the kitchen. "What's for breakfast, Mom?" I opened the empty refrigerator. "Not cereal," I said, watching the sides of his mouth drop. "How about toast and jelly?" I smeared the toast with jelly and set it in front of him. Why was I so angry? I tossed my husband's dishes into the sudsy water. It was days like this that made me want to quit. I just wanted to drive up to the mountains, hide in a cave, and never come out. Somehow I managed to lug the wet clothes to the laundromat. I spent most of the day washing and drying clothes and thinking how love had disappeared from my life. Staring at the graffiti on the walls, I felt as wrung-out as the clothes left in the washers. As I finished hanging up the last of my husband's shirts, I looked at the clock. 2:30. I was late. Jonathan's class let out at 2:15. I dumped the clothes in the back seat and hurriedly drove to the school. I was out of breath by the time I knocked on the teacher's door and peered through the glass. With one finger, she motioned for me to wait. She said something to Jonathan and handed him and two other children crayons and a sheet of paper. What now? I thought, as she rustled through the door and took me aside. "I want to talk to you about Jonathan," she said. I prepared myself for the worst. Nothing would have surprised me. "Did you know Jonathan brought flowers to school today?" she asked. I nodded, thinking about my favorite bush and trying to hide the hurt in my eyes. I glanced at my son busily coloring a picture. His wavy hair was too long and flopped just beneath his brow. He brushed it away with the back of his hand. His eyes burst with blue as he admired his handiwork. "Let me tell you about yesterday," the teacher insisted. "See that little girl?" I watched the bright-eyed child laugh and point to a colorful picture taped to the wall. I nodded. "Well, yesterday she was almost hysterical. Her mother and father are going through a nasty divorce. She told me she didn't want to live, she wished she could die. I watched that little girl bury her face in her hands and say loud enough for the class to hear, 'Nobody loves me.' I did all I could to console her, but it only seemed to make matters worse." "I thought you wanted to talk to me about Jonathan," I said. "I do," she said, touching the sleeve of my blouse. "Today your son walked straight over to that child. I watched him hand her some pretty pink flowers and whisper, 'I love you.'" I felt my heart swell with pride for what my son had done. I smiled at the teacher. "Thank you," I said, reaching for Jonathan's hand, "you've made my day." Later that evening, I began pulling weeds from around my lopsided azalea bush. As my mind wandered back to the love Jonathan showed the little girl, a biblical verse came to me: "...now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." While my son had put love into practice, I had only felt anger. I heard the familiar squeak of my husband's brakes as he pulled into the drive. I snapped a small limb bristling with hot pink azaleas off the bush. I felt the seed of love that God planted in my family beginning to bloom once again in me. My husband's eyes widened in surprise as I handed him the flowers. "I love you," I said. By Nanette Thorsen-Snipes from: Chicken Soup for the Christian Family Soul: Stories to Open the Heart and Rekindle the Spirit, By Aubery, Patty; Autio, Nancy Mitchell; Canfield, Jack (editor); Hansen, Mark Victor, Published by Health Communications (Mar 1, 2000), ISBN: 155874715X, http://isbn.nu/155874715X Used by permission. Nanette Thorsen-Snipes' web site: http://www.nanettesnipes.com/ Source: Weekend Encounter, by Dick Innes, Copyright 2002, http://www.actsweb.org/subscribe.htm Subjects: Priorities, Divorce, Love ~~~~~~~ THIS & THAT: PUNS FOR WORLD-WEARY PEOPLE Part 1 of 2 [May 2, 9] A bicycle can't stand on its own because it is two-tired. What's the definition of a will? (It's a dead giveaway). A backwards poet writes inverse. In democracy it's your vote that counts. In feudalism it's your count that votes. She had a boyfriend with a wooden leg, but broke it off. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion. With her marriage she got a new name and a dress. When a clock is hungry it goes back four seconds. A gas explosion in a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blownapart. You feel stuck with your debt if you can't budge it. Local Area Network in Australia: the LAN down under. He often broke into song because he couldn't find the key. Submitted by Rindi Patterson Subjects: Puns, One Liners ~~~~~~~ KEEP SMILING: I drove my son who is twelve years old, to a friend's house to do a home work project. The boys' mother came out as we drove up to ask if my son wanted to stay for dinner also. When she went back in the house I commented on how pretty she was. My son said "mom, you're pretty too, you're just having a bad day!" Source: Just for Grins, http://www.coolnewsletters.com Subjects: Beauty ~~~~~~~ TRIVIA: Every year, Easter occurs on the first Sunday after the first Full Moon after the Spring Equinox (e.g., the Spring Equinox occurred on 20 March 2002, the next Full Moon occurs on 28 March, and Easter is Sunday, 31 March). Well, usually. For more details, visit The Date of Easter Web page, including the Easter Calculator. http://www.obliquity.com/astro/easter.html Source: Website of the Week (WoW!) Http://www.wsanford.com/~wsanford/exo/wow.html Subj ects: Easter, Calendar |