Chicken Soup

[nChrist]

Amen HisDaughter! - Beautiful story!

[HisDaughter]

More by Erma Bombeck

I come from a family where gravy is considered a beverage.

I have a hat. It is graceful and feminine and give me a certain dignity, as if I were attending a state funeral or something. Someday I may get up enough courage to wear it, instead of carrying it.

I have a theory about the human mind. A brain is a lot like a computer. It will only take so many facts, and then it will go on overload and blow up.

I haven't trusted polls since I read that 62% of women had affairs during their lunch hour. I've never met a woman in my life who would give up lunch for sex.

I never leaf through a copy of National Geographic without realizing how lucky we are to live in a society where it is traditional to wear clothes.


I take a very practical view of raising children. I put a sign in each of their rooms: "Checkout Time is 18 years." 

I was terrible at straight items. When I wrote obituaries, my mother said the only thing I ever got them to do was die in alphabetical order.

[nChrist]

I come from a family where gravy is considered a beverage.

   This one is my favorite in the list, and I resemble this remark.

[HisDaughter]

  This one is my favorite in the list, and I resemble this remark.

That's so funny because I thought of you when I read that one!  My dad and other family are from the south.  Even though, I'm a yankee, I know you guys really well!

 

[HisDaughter]

Ben Hooper

A seminary professor was vacationing with his wife in Gatlinburg, TN. One
 morning, they were eating breakfast at a little restaurant, hoping to
 enjoy a quiet, family meal. While they were waiting for their food, they
 noticed a distinguished looking, white-haired man moving from table to table,
 visiting with the guests. The professor leaned over and whispered to his 
 wife, 'I hope he doesn't come over here.' But sure enough, the  man did come
 over to their  table.
 
 'Where are you folks from?' he asked in a friendly voice.
 'Oklahoma,' they answered.
 'Great to have you here in Tennessee,' the stranger said.. 'What do you do
 for a living?'
 'I teach at a seminary,' he replied.
 
 'Oh, so you teach preachers how to preach, do you? Well, I've got a really
 great  story for you.' And with that, the gentleman pulled up a chair  and
 sat down at the table with the  couple.
 
 The professor groaned and thought to himself, ‘Great  ... Just what I need   ....another preacher story!'
 
 The man started, ’See that mountain over there? (pointing out the
 restaurant window). Not far from the base of that mountain, there was a boy born
 to an unwed mother. He had a hard time growing up, because every place he
 went, he was always asked the same question, 'Hey boy, who’s your daddy?'
 Whether he was at school, in the grocery store or drug store, people would ask
 the same question, 'Who's your daddy?'
 
 He would hide at recess and lunch time from other students. He would avoid
 going in to stores because that question hurt him so bad. 'When he was 
 about 12 years old, a new preacher came to his church. He would always go in
 late and slip out early to avoid hearing the question, 'Who's your daddy?'
 But one day, the new preacher said the benediction so fast that he got
 caught and had  to walk out with the  crowd.
 
 Just about the time  he got to the back door, the new preacher, not knowing
 anything  about him, put his hand on his shoulder and asked him, 'Son, 
 who's your  daddy?'
 
The whole church got deathly quiet. He could feel every eye in the church
 looking at him. Now everyone would finally know the answer to the question,
 'Who's your daddy?'
 
 'This new preacher,  though, sensed the situation around him and using
 discernment  that only the Holy Spirit could give, said the following to that 
 scared little boy.. 'Wait a minute! I know who you are! I see the family
 resemblance now, You are a child of  God.'
 With that he patted the boy on his shoulder and said, 'Boy, you've got a
 great inheritance. Go and claim it.'
 
 'With that, the boy smiled for the first time in a long time and walked
 out the door a changed person. He was never the same again. Whenever anybody 
 asked him, 'Who's your Daddy?' he'd just tell them, 'I'm a Child of 
 God.’’
 
 The distinguished gentleman got up from the table and said, 'Isn't that a
 great story?'
 The professor responded that it really was a great story!
 
 As the man turned to leave, he said, 'You know, if that new preacher
 hadn't told me that I was one of God's children, I probably never would have 
 amounted to anything!' And he walked away.
 
 The seminary professor and his wife were stunned. He called the waitress
 over & asked her, 'Do you know who that man was -- the one who just left
 that was sitting at our table?'
 
The waitress grinned and said, 'Of course. Everybody here knows him.  That's Ben Hooper. He's governor of Tennessee!'
 
 YOU'RE ONE OF GOD'S CHILDREN!!! 
 HAVE A GREAT DAY!

Note: Snopes says that this story is part fact, part fiction.  However, an illegitimate Ben Hooper did grow up to become the governor of TN.

[HisDaughter]

Philip's Egg

Philip was born with Downs Syndrome. He was a pleasant child . . .happy it seemed . . . but increasingly aware of the difference between himself and other children. Philip went to Sunday school faithfully every week. He was in the third grade class with nine other eight-year olds. 

You know eight-year olds. And Philip, with his differences, was not readily accepted. But his teacher was sensitive to Philip and he helped this group of eight-year olds to love each other as best they could, under the circumstances. They learned, they laughed, and they played together. And they really cared about one another, even though eight-year olds don't say they care about one another out loud. 

But don't forget. There was an exception to all this. Philip was not really a part of the group. Philip did not choose, nor did he want to be different. He just was. And that was the way things were. 

His teacher had a marvelous idea for his class the Sunday after Easter. You know those things that pantyhose come in . . . the containers that look like great big eggs? The teacher collected ten of them. The children loved it when he brought them into the room and gave one to each child. 

It was a beautiful spring day, and the assignment was for each child to go outside, find the symbol for new life, put it into the egg, and bring it back to the classroom They would then open and share their new life symbols and surprises, one by one. 

It was glorious. It was confusing. It was wild. They ran all around the church grounds, gathering their symbols, and returned to the classroom. 

They put all the eggs on a table, and then the teacher began to open them. All the children gathered around the table. He opened one and there was a flower, and they ooh-ed and aah-ed. He opened another and there was a little butterfly.

"Beautiful!" the girls all said, since it is hard for eight-year old boys to say 'beautiful.' He opened another and there was a rock. And as third-graders will, some laughed, and some said, "That's crazy! How's a rock supposed to be like new life?" But the smart little boy who'd put it in there spoke up: "That's mine. And I knew all of you would get flowers and buds and leaves and butterflies and stuff like that. So I got a rock because I wanted to be different. And for me, that's new life." They all laughed. 

The teacher said something about the wisdom of eight-year olds and opened the next one. There was nothing inside. The children, as eight-year olds will, said, "That's not fair. That's stupid! Somebody didn't do it right." 

Then the teacher felt a tug on his shirt, and he looked down. "It's mine, Philip said. It's mine." 

And the children said, "You don't ever do things right, Philip. There's nothing there!" 

"I did so do it right!" Philip said. "I did do it right. The tomb is empty!" 

There was silence, a very full silence. And for you people who don't believe in miracles, I want to tell you that one happened that day. From that time on, it was different. Philip suddenly became a part of that group of eight-year old children. They took him in. He was set free from the tomb of his differences. 

Philip died last summer. His family had known since the time he was born that he wouldn't live out a full life span. Many other things were wrong with his little body. And so, late last July, with an infection that most normal children could have quickly shrugged off, Philip died. 

At his memorial service, nine eight-year old children marched up to the altar, not with flowers to cover over the stark reality of death . . . but nine eight-year olds, along with their Sunday School teacher, marched right up to that altar, and laid on it an empty egg . . . an empty, old, discarded pantyhose egg. 

[HisDaughter]

Family

I ran into a stranger as he passed by,

"Oh excuse me please" was my reply.

He said, "Please excuse me too;

I wasn't watching for you."

We were very polite, this stranger and I.

We went on our way and we said good-bye.

But at home a different story is told,

How we treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal,

My son stood beside me very still.

When I turned, I nearly knocked him down.

"Move out of the way," I said with a frown.

He walked away, his little heart broken.

I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.

While I lay awake in bed,

God's still small voice came to me and said,

"While dealing with a stranger,

common courtesy you use,

but the family you love, you seem to abuse.

Go and look on the kitchen floor,

You'll find some flowers there by the door.

Those are the flowers he brought for you.

He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue.

He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise,

you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes."

By this time, I felt very small,

And now my tears began to fall.

I quietly went and knelt by his bed;

"Wake up, little one, wake up," I said.

"Are these the flowers you picked for me?"

He smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree.

I picked 'em because they're pretty like you.

I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue."

I said, "Son, I'm very sorry for the way I acted today;

I shouldn't have yelled at you that way."

He said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay.
I love you anyway."

I said, "Son, I love you too,

and I do like the flowers, especially the blue."

[HisDaughter]

The Little Grass Hut

 The only survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, uninhabited island.
 
He prayed feverishly for GOD to rescue him, and everyday he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming.
 
Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect himself from the elements and to store his few possessions.
 
One day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames with smoke rolling up to the sky.
 
The worst had happened! Everything was lost!
 
He was stunned with disbelief, grief, and anger.
 
"GOD, how could you do this to me?" he cried.
 
Early the next day he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him.
 
"How did you know I was here?" asked the weary man of his rescuers.
 
"We saw your smoke signal," they replied.
 
Moral of the story:
 
It's easy to get discouraged when things are going bad, but we shouldn't lose heart, because GOD is at work in our lives, even in the midst of pain, and suffering.
 
Remember that, the next time your little hut seems to be burning to the ground.
 
It just may be a smoke signal that summons the grace of GOD.

[HisDaughter]

Code of Humanity

I choose to communicate truth.
I choose the reality of life.
I choose to heal not hurt.
I choose education over ignorance.
I choose the power of peace.
I choose to love God and see Him in all mankind.
I choose to seek the soul in all things.
I choose to link to the world of inspiration.
I choose the principle of sharing.
I choose to become a co-creator of life and live it more abundantly.

[HisDaughter]

More Erma

I will buy any creme, cosmetic, or elixir from a woman with a European accent.

I've exercised with women so thin that buzzards followed them to their cars.

If a man watches three football games in a row, he should be declared legally dead.

If you can't make it better, you can laugh at it.

In general my children refuse to eat anything that hasn't danced in television.

In two decades I've lost a total of 789 pounds. I should be hanging from a charm bracelet.
 
It goes without saying that you should never have more children than you have car windows.

It is not until you become a mother that your judgment slowly turns to compassion and understanding.

It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else.

Like religion, politics, and family planning, cereal is not a topic to be brought up in public. It's too controversial.

[nChrist]

In two decades I've lost a total of 789 pounds. I should be hanging from a charm bracelet.

   - This one was my favorite. Thanks for the laughs.

[HisDaughter]

  - This one was my favorite. Thanks for the laughs.

You're welcome!  Who doen't love Erma!

[HisDaughter]

A grandfather overheard his granddaughter repeating the alphabet in reverent, hushed tones.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm praying, Grandpa," she said. "I can't think of the right words, so I just say all the letters. God will put them together for me, 'cause he knows what I'm thinking."

[HisDaughter]

A Virtuous Woman

What is a virtuous woman? A description you seek.
She's a woman, designed by God, mild mannered and meek.
A woman whose children arise and call blessed,
who welcomes all strangers and treats them as guests.
A woman who plans for her household by night,
then trusts in the Lord with all of her might.
A woman who cares for her home and family,
who refrains from gossip and speaking idly.
Her husband, well known, within the city's gate,
publicly, praises God for his godly mate.
She's a blessing to all and in all her ways,
plants her trust in the Lord, Whose Voice she obeys.
She teaches her children God's laws and commands,
and daily entrusts them into His strong, loving hands.
"What is a 'virtuous woman', you ask"?
She's a God fearing woman who's
been blessed with a task.
[Proverbs 31:1-31]

[HisDaughter]

If I Had My Life To Live Over
By: Emma Bombeck

 
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.


I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.


I would have talked less and listened more.


I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.


I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.


I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.


I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.


I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.


I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.


I would have cried and laughed less while watching television-and more while watching life.


I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.


Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.


When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."


There would have been more "I love you's.". More "I'm sorry's"


But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it ...live it...and never give it back.


Stop sweating the small stuff. Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what.


Instead, let's cherish the relationships we have with those who Do love us. Let's think about what God HAS blessed us with.


And what we are doing each day to promote ourselves mentally, physically, emotionally, as well as spiritually.


Life is too short to let it pass you by.


We only have one shot at this and then it's gone.


I hope you all have a blessed day.