Net Miles Of Smiles

“It’s LOVE that make the world go ’round . . . !”

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My dear friends, take a moment to shut out everything else around you and enjoy where this story takes you! Stay Blessed and Enjoy your Day!

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T-bone steaks, yellow roses and friendship
READ THIS!!!! and then reread it. Especially the last part…

I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested in buying
groceries. I wasn’t hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 57 years
was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet
memories.

He often came with me and almost every time, he’d pretend to go off
and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I’d always
spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses in his
hands.

He knew I loved yellow roses. With a heart filled with grief, I only
wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery shopping was
different since he had passed on.

Shopping for one took time, a little more thought than it had for
two.

Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect small steak and
remembered how he had loved his steak.

Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blonde, slim and lovely in a
soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large package of
T-bones, dropped them in her basket.. hesitated, and then put them
back. She turned to go and once again reached for the pack of steaks.

She saw me watching her and she smiled. “My husband loves T-bones,
but honestly, at these prices, I don’t know.”

I swallowed the emotion down my throat and met her pale blue eyes.

“My husband passed away eight days ago,” I told her. Glancing at the
package in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my voice.
“Buy him the steaks. And cherish every moment you have together.”

She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she placed
the package in her basket and wheeled away

I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to the
dairy products. There I stood, trying to decide which size milk I
should buy. A Quart, I finally decided and moved on to the ice cream.
If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream cone.

I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle toward
the front. I saw first the green suit, then recognized the pretty
lady coming towards me. In her arms she carried a package. On her
face was the brightest smile! I had ever seen. I would swear a soft
halo encircled her blonde hair as she kept walking toward me, her
eyes holding mine.

As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began misting in my
eyes. “These are for you,” she said and placed three beautiful long
stemmed yellow roses in my arms. “When you go through the line, they
will know these are paid for.” She leaned over and placed a gentle
kiss on my cheek, then smiled again. I wanted to tell her what she’d
done, what the roses meant, but still unable to speak, I watched as
she walked away as tears clouded my vision

I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green tissue
wrapping and found it almost unreal. How did she know? Suddenly the
answer seemed so clear. I wasn’t alone.

Oh, you haven’t forgotten me, have you? I whispered, with tears in my
eyes. He was still with me, and she was his angel.

* * * * * * * *

“Life is nothing without the
sweetness of Love!”

Comments (0) Jul 14 2008

“It’s LOVE that make the world go ’round . . . !”

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“Not that I am implying that I was in any personal want, for I have learned how to be content in whatever state I am.”–Philippians 4:11

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Love on Paper

by Rubel Shelly

There is something of a movement starting to pick up momentum across the United States. I’m skeptical! “Movements” come and go. They tend to be faddish. They are often shallow. But this one shows real promise.

Churches across the country are offering workshops to teach people how to write love letters. Lutherans, Seventh-day Adventists, Catholics, and Baptists have participated. From California to Florida, Texas to Alaska, people enroll.

An initiator of this movement is a 57-year-old man who found his late father’s banged-up tackle box while cleaning out his garage. It dawned on him that the tangled, rusty fishing lures in that box were all he had left from his dad’s hands. And he was suddenly angry at his father for not leaving him something more personal and substantive from his heart. Then he wondered if he was doing any better by his own children. If he dropped dead, what would he leave them?

Greg Vaughn resolved that day to leave his children letters documenting joys he had shared with them. His hopes for their future. His pride in their achievements. His faith in them as persons. From that event and Vaughn’s experience of sharing it with some friends, “Letters From Dad” was born.

Writing a real letter - as opposed to text messaging or just signing a birthday card - is hard. It requires focus and concentration. It calls for a degree of creative energy to communicate clearly. And it almost always pulls up feelings as well as mere facts and memories. That’s why it is so hard for men to write one.

Females would benefit from putting things on paper too. But we males seem to have a tougher time with feelings. We struggle to put emotional content into conversations with people who mean the most to us. So an occasional “Love ya!” in passing or “Love, Bob” at the bottom of a greeting card is all some wives, children, or parents ever get from their husbands, dads, and sons.

So here’s an idea for you: Whatever else you give your mate or offspring or parents this Christmas, write them a love letter to go with it. There’s still time to write them. Sleep on them. Revise them and make them better. Just put some of your heart on paper to them. Tell her how important she is to you. Let him know you are proud of him. Thank her for what she does to make your life better.

Forget literary flourish. Put some love on paper. Offer it shamelessly. Continue the practice next year - on an anniversary, birthday, or special event. Write one out of the blue. The people you love both need and deserve to know it.

<>*<>*<>*<>*<>
“Life is nothing without the
sweetness of Love!”

Comments (0) Jul 14 2008

Every day be thankful for what you have and who you are.

Even though I clutch my blanket and growl when the alarm rings. Thank
you, Lord, that I can hear. There are many who are deaf.

Even though I keep my eyes closed against the morning light as long
as possible. Thank you, Lord , that I can see. Many are blind.

Even though I huddle in my bed and put off rising. Thank you, Lord,
that I have the strength to rise. There are many who are bedridden.

Even though the first hour of my day is hectic, when socks are lost,
toast is burned, tempers are short, and my children are so loud.
Thank you, Lord, for my family. There are many who are lonely.

Even though our breakfast table never looks like the picture in
magazines and the menu is at times unbalanced.
 

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