Net Miles Of Smiles

If it doesn’t bring a tear to your eyes,…I am still crying!‏

This is quite long, but a delightful story….

If it doesn’t bring a tear to your eyes, I don’t know what will.

..

IN GOD’S EYES

by Candace Carteen, Portland, Oregon

..

By the time I was ten, I was totally ashamed of my father. All
my friends called him names: Quasi-Moto, hunchback, monster,
little Frankenstein, the crooked little man with the crooked
little cane. At first it hurt when they called him those things,
but soon I found myself agreeing with them. He was ugly, and I
knew it!

.

My father was born with something called parastremmatic
dwarfism. The disease made him stop growing when he was about
thirteen and caused his body to twist and turn into a grotesque
shape. It wasn’t too bad when he was a kid. I saw pictures of
him when he was about my age. He was a little short but quite
good-looking. Even when he met my mother and married her when he
was nineteen, he still looked pretty normal. He was still short
and walked with a slight limp, but he was able to do just about
anything. Mother said, ‘He even used to be a great dancer.’

.

Soon after my birth, things started getting worse. Another
genetic disorder took over, and his left foot started turning
out, almost backward. His head and neck shifted over to the
right; his neck became rigid and he had to look over his left
shoulder a bit. His right arm curled in and up, and his index
finger almost touched his elbow. His spine warped to look
something like a big, old rollercoaster and it caused his torso
to lie sideways instead of straight up and down like a normal
person. His walk became low, awkward, and deliberate. He had to
almost drag his left foot as he used his deformed right arm to
balance his gait.

.

I hated to be seen with him. Everyone stared. They seemed to
pity me. I knew he must have done something really bad to have
God hate him that much. By the time I was seventeen, I was
blaming all my problems on my father. I didn’t have the right
boyfriends because of him. I didn ‘t drive the right car because
of him. I wasn’t pretty enough because of him. I didn’t have the
right jobs because of him. I wasn’t happy because of him.

.

Anything that was wrong with me, or my life, was because of him.
If my father had been good-looking like Jane’s father, or
successful like Paul’s father, or worldly like Terry’s father, I
would be perfect! I knew that for sure.

.

The night of my senior prom came, and Father had to place one
more nail in my coffin; he had volunteered to be one of the
chaperones at the dance.

.

My heart just sank when he told me. I stormed into my room,
slammed the door, threw myself on the bed, and cried. ‘Three
more weeks and I’ll be out of here!’ I screamed into my pillow.
‘Three more weeks and I will have graduated and be moving away
to college.’ I sat up and took a deep breath.

.

‘God, please make my father go away and leave me alone. He keeps
sticking his big nose in everything I do. Just make him
disappear, so that I can have a good time at the dance.’

.

I got dressed, my date picked me up, and we went to the prom.
Father followed in his car behind us. When we arrived, Father
seemed to vanish into the pink chiffon drapes that hung
everywhere in the auditorium. I thanked God that He had heard my
prayer. At least now I could have some fun.

.

Midway through the dance, Father came out from behind the drapes
and decided to embarrass me again. He started dancing with my girlfriends.
One by one, he took their hand and led them to the
dance floor. He then clumsily moved them in circles as the band
played. Now I tried to vanish into the drapes.

.

After Jane had danced with him, she headed my way. Oh, no! I
thought. She’s going to tell me he stomped on her foot or
something.

.

‘Grace,’ she called, ‘you have the greatest father.’

.

My face fell. ‘What?’

.

She smiled at me and grabbed my shoulders. ‘Your father’s just
the best. He’s funny, kind, and always finds the time to be
where you need him. I wish my father was more like that.’

.

For one of the first times in my life, I couldn’t talk. Her
words confused me.

.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked her.

.

Jane looked at me really strangely. ‘What do you mean, what do I
mean? Your father’s wonderful. I remember when we were kids, and
I’d sleep over at your house. He’d always come into your room,
sit down in the chair between the twin beds, and read us a book.
I’m not sure my father can even read,’ she sighed, and then
smiled. ‘Thanks for sharing him.’

.

Then, Jane ran off to dance with her boyfriend. I stood there in
silence.

.

A few minutes later, Paul came to stand beside me.

.

‘He’s sure having a lot of fun.’

.

‘What? Who? Who is having a lot of fun?’ I asked.

.

‘Your father. He’s having a ball.’

.

‘Yeah. I guess.’ I didn’t know what else to say.

.

‘You know, he’s always been there,’ Paul said. ‘I remember when
you and I were on the mixed-doubles soccer team. He tried out as
the coach, but he couldn’t run up and down the field, remember?
So they picked Jackie’s father instead. That didn’t stop him. He
showed up for every game and did whatever needed to be done. He
was the team’s biggest fan. I think he’s the reason we won so
many games. Without him, it just would have been Jackie’s father
running up and down the field yelling at us. Your father made it
fun. I wish my father had been able to show up to at least one
of our games. He was always too busy.’

.

Paul’s girlfriend came out of the restroom, and he went to her
side, leaving me once again speechless.

.

My boyfriend came back with two glasses of punch and handed me
one. ‘Well, what do you think of my father?’ I asked out of the
blue.

.

Terry looked surprised. ‘I like him. I always have.’

.

‘Then why did you call him names when we were kids?’

.

‘I don’t know. Because he was different, and I was a dumb kid.’

.

‘When did you stop calling him names?’ I asked, trying to search
my own memory.

.

Terry didn’t even have to think about the answer. ‘The day he
sat down with me outside by the pool and held me while I cried
about my mother and father’s divorce. No one else would let me
talk about it. I was hurting inside, and he could feel it. He
cried with me that day. I thought you knew.’

.

I looked at Terry and a tear rolled down my cheek as
long-forgotten memories started cascading into my consciousness.

.

When I was three, my puppy got killed by another dog, and my
father was there to hold me and teach me what happens when the
pets we love die.

.

When I was five, my father took me to my first day of school. I
was so scared. So was he. We cried and held each other that
first day. The next day he became teacher’s helper. When I was
eight, I just couldn’t do math. Father sat down with me night
after night, and we worked on math problems until math became
easy for me. When I was ten, my father bought me a brand-new
bike. When it was stolen, because I didn’t lock it up like I was
taught to do, my father gave me jobs to do around the house so I
could make enough money to purchase another one. When I was
thirteen and my first love broke up with me, my father was there
to yell at, to blame, and to cry with. When I was fifteen and I
got to be in the honor society, my father was there to see me
get the accolade. Now, when I was seventeen, he put up with me
no matter how nasty I became or how high my hormones raged.

.

As I looked at my father dancing gaily with my friends, a big
toothy grin on his face, I suddenly saw him differently. The
handicaps weren’t his, they were mine! I had spent a great deal
of my life hating the man who loved me. I had hated the exterior
that I saw, and I had ignored the interior that contained his
God-given heart. I suddenly felt very ashamed.

.

I asked Terry to take me home, too overcome with feelings to
remain.

.

On graduation day, at my Christian high school, my name was
called, and I stood behind the podium as the valedictorian of my
class. As I looked out over the people in the audience, my gaze
rested on my father in the front row sitting next to my mother.
He sat there, in his one and only, specially made suit, holding
my mother’s hand and smiling.

.

Overcome with emotions, my prepared speech was to become a
landmark in my life.

.

‘Today I stand here as an honor student, able to graduate with a
4.0 average. Yes, I was in the honor society for three years and
was elected class president for the last two years. I led our
school to championship in the debate club, and yes, I even won a
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Comments (0) Aug 17 2008

Do you have A. A. A. D. D.?

I have recently been diagnosed with A. A. A. D. D.
(Advanced Absentminded Attention Deficit Disorder)

This is how it goes:

I decide to wash the car; I start toward the garage and notice
the mail on the table.

OK, I’m going to wash the car, but first I’m going to go through
the mail.

I lay the car keys down on the desk, discard the junk mail, and
notice the trashcan is full.

OK, I’ll just put the bills on my desk and take the trashcan
out, but since I’m going to be near the mailbox anyway, I’ll pay
these few bills first.

Now, where is my checkbook?
Oops, there’s only one check left.
My extra checks are in my desk.
Oh, there’s the coke I was drinking.
I’m going to look for those checks.
But first I have to put my coke further away from the computer,
or maybe I’ll pop it into the fridge to keep it cold for awhile.

I head towards the kitchen and my flowers catch my eye; they
need some water.

I set the coke on the counter, and uh oh.
There are my glasses. I was looking for them all morning.
I’d better put them away first.

I fill a container with water and head for the flower pots.

Uh oh…..someone left the TV remote in the kitchen.
We’ll never think to look in the kitchen tonight when we want to
watch television, so I’d better put it back in the family room
where it belongs.

I splash some water into the pots and onto the floor, I throw
the remote onto a soft cushion on the sofa and I head back down
the hall trying to figure out what it was I was going to do?

+++++++++

End of the Day: The car isn’t washed, the bills are unpaid, the
coke is sitting on the kitchen counter, the flowers are half-
watered, the checkbook still only has one check in it and I
can’t seem to find my car keys.

When I try to figure out how come nothing got done today, I’m
baffled because I KNOW I WAS BUSY ALL DAY LONG!!!!!

I realize this is a serious condition and I’ll get help, but
first I think I’ll check my email…………….

Please send this to everyone you know because I DON’T REMEMBER
TO WHOM I’VE SENT THIS!!!!!!

Author Forgotten

+++++++++

While we may not be able to control all that happens to us,
We can control what happens inside of us.
–Benjamin Franklin

Comments (0) Aug 17 2008

by Unknown

Once there were three trees o­n a hill in the woods. They were discussing their hopes and dreams when the first tree said, “Someday I hope to be a treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems. I could be decorated with intricate carving and everyone would see the beauty.”
Then the second tree said, “Someday I will be a mighty ship. I will take kings and queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world. Everyone will feel safe in me because of the strength of my hull.”

Finally the third tree said, “I want to grow to be the tallest and straightest tree in the forest. People will see me o­n top of the hill and look up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will always remember me.”

After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees. When o­ne came to the first tree he said, “This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter” … and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy, because he knew that the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest.

At the second tree a woodsman said, “This looks like a strong tree, I should be able to sell it to the shipyard.” The second tree was happy because he knew he was o­n his way to becoming a mighty ship.

When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down his dreams would not come true. o­ne of the woodsmen said, “I don’t need anything special from my tree so I’ll take this o­ne”, and he cut it down.

When the first tree arrived at the carpenters, he was made into a feed box for animals. He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay. This was not at all what he had prayed for. The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat. His dreams of being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an end. The third tree was cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark. The years went by, and the trees forgot about their dreams.

Then o­ne day, a man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do. The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time. Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree. o­ne of them was tired and went to sleep. While they were out o­n the water, a great storm arose and the tree didn’t think it was strong enough to keep the men safe. The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and said “Peace” and the storm stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had carried the King of Kings in its boat.

Finally, someone came and got the third tree. It was carried through the streets as the people mocked the man who was carrying it. When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close to God as was possible, because Jesus had been crucified o­n it.

The moral of this story is that when things don’t seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you place your trust in Him, He will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they had imagined. We don’t always know what God’s plans are for us. We just know that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best.

++++++++++

“As long as you’re breathing….

It’s never too late to DREAM big….

Dare to Dream.”

~ Unknown

Comments (0) Aug 17 2008

Moses said, “Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth,
I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor
and needy neighbor in your land.”
-Deuteronomy 15:11 (NRSV)

Comments (0) Aug 17 2008

by Unknown

.

If you put a buzzard in a pen six or eight feet square and entirely open at the top, the bird, in spite of his ability to fly, will be an absolute prisoner. The reason is that a buzzard always begins a flight from the ground with a run of ten or twelve feet. Without space to run, as is his habit, he will not even attempt to fly, but will remain a prisoner for life in a small jail with no top.

.

The ordinary bat that flies around at night, a remarkable nimble creature in the air, cannot take off from a level place. If it is placed o­n the floor or flat ground, all it can do is shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt, painfully, until it reaches some slight elevation from which it can throw itself into the air. Then, at o­nce, it takes off like a flash.

.

A Bumblebee if dropped into an open tumbler will be there until it dies, unless it is taken out. It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying to find some way out through the

Read More

Comments (0) Aug 17 2008

Happy moments, PRAISE GOD.
Difficult moments, SEEK GOD.
Quiet moments, WORSHIP GOD.
Painful moments, TRUST GOD.
Every moment, THANK GOD.

Comments (0) Aug 17 2008