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HisDaughter
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« Reply #705 on: May 25, 2011, 09:20:33 AM »

Noah's Ark

In the year 2011, the Lord came unto Noah, who was now living in the United
States, and said: Once again, the earth has become wicked and I see the end
of all flesh before me.

Build another Ark and save 2 of every living thing along with A few good
humans.

He gave Noah the blueprints, saying: You have 6 months to build the Ark
before I will start the unending rain for 40 days and 40 nights.

Six months later, the Lord looked down and saw Noah weeping in his yard but no Ark.

Noah! He roared, I'm about to start the rain! Where is the Ark?

Forgive me, Lord, begged Noah, 'but things have changed.

I needed a building permit.

I've been arguing with the inspector about the need for a sprinkler system.

My neighbors claim that I've violated the neighborhood zoning laws by
building the Ark in my yard and exceeding the height limitations. We had to go to the Development Appeal Board for a decision.

Then the Department of Transportation demanded a bond be posted for the
future costs of moving power lines and other overhead obstructions, to clear
the passage for the Ark 's move to the sea.

I told them that the sea would be coming to us, but they would hear nothing
of it.

Getting the wood was another problem. There's a ban on cutting local trees
in order to save the spotted owl.

I tried to convince the environmentalists that I needed the wood to save the
owls but no go!

When I started gathering the animals, an animal rights group sued me.

They insisted that I was confining wild animals against their will.

They argued the accommodations were too restrictive, and it was cruel and
inhumane to put so many animals in a confined space.

Then the EPA ruled that I couldn't build the Ark until they'd conducted an
environmental impact study on your proposed flood.

I'm still trying to resolve a complaint with the Human Rights Commission on
how many minorities I'm supposed to hire for my building crew.

Immigration and Naturalization are checking the green-card status of most of
the people who want to work.

The trades unions say I can't use my sons. They insist I have to hire only
Union workers with Ark-building experience.

To make matters worse, the IRS seized all my assets, claiming I'm trying to
leave the country illegally with endangered species.

So, forgive me, Lord, but it would take at least 10 years for me to finish
this Ark.

Suddenly the skies cleared, the sun began to shine, and a rainbow stretched
across the sky.

Noah looked up in wonder and asked, 'You mean you're not going to destroy
the world?'

'No,' said the Lord.  'The government beat me to it. '


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« Reply #706 on: May 25, 2011, 02:47:48 PM »

Quote from: HisDaughter
Suddenly the skies cleared, the sun began to shine, and a rainbow stretched
across the sky.

Noah looked up in wonder and asked, 'You mean you're not going to destroy
the world?'

'No,' said the Lord.  'The government beat me to it. '

This is pretty accurate.
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« Reply #707 on: May 28, 2011, 12:03:14 PM »


Leave it to Maxine to come up with a solution   
For the mess that America is now in economically.


I bought a bird feeder. I hung
It on my back porch and filled
It with seed. What a beauty of
A bird feeder it was, as I filled it
lovingly   with seed. Within a
Week we had hundreds of birds 
Taking advantage of the
Continuous flow of free and
Easily accessible food.

But then the birds started
Building nests in the boards
Of the patio, above the table,
And next to the barbecue.   

Then came the poop. It was
Everywhere: on the patio tile,
The chairs, the table ..
Everywhere!

Then some of the birds
Turned mean. They would
Dive bomb me and try to
Peck me even though I had
Fed them out of my own
Pocket. 

And others birds were
Boisterous and loud. They
Sat on the feeder and
Squawked and screamed at
All hours of the day and night
And demanded that I fill it
When it got low on food. 

After a while, I couldn't even
Sit on my own back porch
Anymore.  So I took down the
Bird feeder and in three days
The birds were gone. I cleaned
Up their mess and took down 
The many nests they had built
All over the patio.

Soon, the back yard was like
It used to be .... Quiet, serene....
And no one demanding their
Rights to a free meal. 

Now let's see.
Our government gives out
Free food, subsidized housing,
Free medical care and free
Education, and allows anyone
Born here to be an automatic
Citizen. 

Then the illegal's came by the
Tens of thousands.  Suddenly
Our taxes went up to pay for
Free services; small apartments
Are housing 5 families; you
Have to wait 6 hours to be seen 
By an emergency room doctor;
Your child's second grade class is
Behind other schools because
Over half the class doesn't speak
English.

Corn Flakes now come in a
Bilingual box; I have to
'press one ' to hear my bank
Talk to me in English, and
People waving flags other
Than 'Old Glory' are
Squawking and screaming
In the streets, demanding 
More rights and free liberties.

Just my opinion, but maybe
it's time for the government
To take down the bird feeder.   

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« Reply #708 on: May 28, 2011, 12:39:41 PM »

 Grin  Yes, take down the bird-feeder.
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« Reply #709 on: May 29, 2011, 08:30:21 AM »

The Young Sentinel

In the summer of 1862, a young man belonging to a Vermont regiment was found sleeping at his post. He was tried and sentenced to be shot. The day was fixed for the execution, and the young soldier calmly prepared to meet his fate.

Friends who knew of the case brought the matter to Mr. Lincoln's attention. It seemed that the boy had been on duty one night, and on the following night he had taken the place of a comrade too ill to stand guard. The third night he had been again called out, and, being utterly exhausted, had fallen asleep at his post.

As soon as Mr. Lincoln understood the case, he signed a pardon, and sent it to the camp. The morning before the execution arrived, and the President had not heard whether the pardon had reached the officers in charge of the matter. He began to feel uneasy. He ordered a telegram to be sent to the camp, but received no answer. State papers could not fix his mind, nor could he banish the condemned soldier boy from his thoughts.

At last, feeling that he MUST KNOW that the lad was safe, he ordered the carriage and rode rapidly ten miles over a dusty road and beneath a scorching sun. When he reached the camp he found that the pardon had been received and the execution stayed.

The sentinel was released, and his heart was filled with lasting gratitude. When the campaign opened in the spring, the young man was with his regiment near Yorktown, Virginia. They were ordered to attack a fort, and he fell at the first volley of the enemy.

His comrades caught him up and carried him bleeding and dying from the field. "Bear witness," he said, "that I have proved myself not a coward, and I am not afraid to die." Then, making a last effort, with his dying breath he prayed for Abraham Lincoln.

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« Reply #710 on: May 30, 2011, 07:49:04 AM »

Two Hero-Stories of the Civil War

I. Bravery Honored By a Foe

In a rifle-pit, on the brow of a hill near Fredericksburg, were a number of Confederate soldiers who had exhausted their ammunition in the vain attempt to check the advancing column of Hooker's finely equipped and disciplined army which was crossing the river. To the relief of these few came the brigade in double-quick time. But no sooner were the soldiers intrenched than the firing on the opposite side of the river became terrific.

A heavy mist obscured the scene. The Federal soldiers poured a merciless fire into the trenches. Soon many Confederates fell, and the agonized cries of the wounded who lay there calling for water, smote the hearts of their helpless comrades.

"Water! Water!" But there was none to give, the canteens were-empty.

"Boys," exclaimed Nathan Cunningham, a lad of eighteen, the color-bearer for his regiment, "I can't stand this any more. They want water, and water they must have. So let me have a few canteens and I'll go for some."

Carefully laying the colors, which he had borne on many a field, in a trench, he seized some canteens, and, leaping into the mist, was soon out of sight.

Shortly after this the firing ceased for a while, and an order came for the men to fall back to the main line.

As the Confederates were retreating they met Nathan Cunningham, his canteens full of water, hurrying to relieve the thirst of the wounded men in the trenches. He glanced over the passing column and saw that the faded flag, which he had carried so long, was not there. The men in their haste to obey orders HAD FORGOTTEN OR OVERLOOKED THE COLORS.

Quickly the lad sped to the trenches, intent now not only on giving water to his comrades, but on rescuing the flag and so to save the honor of his regiment.

His mission of mercy was soon accomplished. The wounded men drank freely. The lad then found and seized his colors, and turned to rejoin his regiment. Scarcely had he gone three paces when a company of Federal soldiers appeared ascending the hill.

"Halt and surrender," came the stern command, and a hundred rifles were leveled at the boy's breast.

"NEVER! while I hold the colors," was his firm reply.

The morning sun, piercing with a lurid glare the dense mist, showed the lad proudly standing with his head thrown back and his flag grasped in his hand, while his unprotected breast was exposed to the fire of his foe.

A moment's pause. Then the Federal officer gave his command:

"Back with your pieces, men, don't shoot that brave boy."

And Nathan Cunningham, with colors flying over his head, passed on and joined his regiment.

His comrades in arms still tell with pride of his brave deed and of the generous act of a foe.

II. THE BRAVERY OF RICHARD KIRTLAND

Richard Kirtland was a sergeant in the Second Regiment of South Carolina Volunteers. The day after the great battle of Fredericksburg, Kershaw's brigade occupied the road at the foot of Marye's Hill.

One hundred and fifty yards in front of the road, on the other side of a stone wall, lay Sykes's division of the United States Army. Between these troops and Kershaw's command a skirmish fight was continued through the entire day. The ground between the lines was literally covered with dead and dying Federal soldiers.

All day long the wounded were calling, "Water! water! water!"

In the afternoon, Sergeant Kirtland, a Confederate soldier, went to the headquarters of General Kershaw, and said with deep emotion: "General, all through last night and to-day - I have been hearing those poor wounded Federal soldiers out there cry for water. Let me go and give them some."

"Don't you know," replied the general, "that you would get a bullet through you the moment you stepped over the wall?"

"Yes, sir," said the sergeant - "but if you will let me go I am willing to try it."

The general reflected a minute, then answered: "Kirtland, I ought not to allow you to take this risk, but the spirit that moves you is so noble I cannot refuse. Go, and may God protect you!"

In the face of almost certain death the sergeant climbed the wall, watched with anxiety by the soldiers of his army. Under the curious gaze of his foes, and exposed to their fire, he dropped to the ground and hastened on his errand of mercy. Unharmed, untouched, he reached the nearest sufferer. He knelt beside him, tenderly raised his drooping head, rested it gently on his breast, and poured the cooling life-giving water down the parched throat. This done he laid him carefully down, placed the soldier's knapsack under his head, straightened his broken limbs, spread his coat over him, replaced the empty canteen with a full one, then turned to another sufferer.

By this time his conduct was understood by friend and foe alike and the firing ceased on both sides.

For an hour and a half did he pursue his noble mission, until he had relieved the wounded on all parts of the battlefield. Then he returned to his post uninjured.

Surely such a noble deed is worthy of the admiration of men and angels.

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« Reply #711 on: May 31, 2011, 09:27:38 AM »

Looking Glass

There I was standing in front of the mirror this morning shaving and I recalled how Grandma always called the mirror a looking glass.

Now I have this terrible habit of not pronouncing the "g" when saying words ending in "ing".

So when I pronounce the words "looking glass" it comes out sounding more like "lookin glass".

Well I let the thought pass for the time being and continued shaving.

After I finished shaving I headed into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee.

And as I sat there with my cup of coffee the thought of the "lookin glass" returned to me.

So I thought on this for a while and I realized that maybe a "look in glass" wouldn't be such a bad idea.

Something to make us look inside ourselves at the beginning of each and every day.

To look inside ourselves and think about what positive things we are doing to strengthen our relationship with the Lord. . . .

And what negatives we are adding that could damage our relationship with the Lord.

Well the coffee is done, and I think tomorrow I'll spend an extra minute or two in front of the mirror to use it as a "lookin glass".

Just a thought over coffee!


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« Reply #712 on: June 01, 2011, 08:53:36 AM »

Howard the Angel

Katherine was having a bad day and luckily a good friend and accountability partner of hers, Mary, noticed and wanted to talk about it.

They were talking about her feeling of loneliness. Katherine just really didn't feel special to anyone, but she knew that God was special through her to many people everyday. She knew God loved her, but she just desired to know that someone on earth loved her for who she is.

Then a man came into the room in which they were speaking. He threw some trash away and left. The two women continued their conversation and the man returned to throw more trash away.

Katherine noticed the man this time. He was about 6'4", with crystal blue eyes, and golden curls on his head. She remarked that she really liked his hair. The man laughed and then he told Katherine of how much he used to hate his hair-how he permed it straight once, and by 24 hours it was curly again...Katherine laughed with him because she also struggled with her wavy hair and freckles. He commented that he liked her freckles and her eyes.

Katherine asked her new friend what his name was. He replied that it was Howard. He was just visiting the area for the day and he would soon return home to England. Katherine told him that she used to live in England and they began to speak of how the cultures differed. He remarked that most English people were introverts and that it took a while for them to be comfortable talking with strangers.

Mary watched this whole conversation and she and Katherine were sad to see Howard go when his friend came down to find him. Howard said he was glad to have met the two ladies and he gave them each 2 kisses-one on each cheek, as he parted.

Katherine and Mary giggled about this "chance" encounter and then Mary really spoke to Katherine's heart....She said, "Katherine, don't you realize that was exactly what you needed? (Katherine was beaming and obviously in a much better mood than before she met Howard)...Howard did not even know you, yet you took the time to tell a total stranger that you liked something about him. It was your spirit he was attracted to and that led the two of you into a conversation...all those little things (the things God has blessed you with to make you the unique person that you are) Howard noticed and complimented you on.. He also touched you and God knows that touch is special to you....He spoke of how introverted British people are, yet look at how un-introverted he was....Katherine, Howard was a gift from God."

Katherine felt a warm smile creep up from the bottom of her heart as she realized that Howard looked just like what she always pictured angels to look like, he did give her an innocent kiss (and she hadn't been kissed in a long time), and he did really make her feel special and loved for who she is, and so she thanked God right then and there for her friend, "Howard the angel."

Call it coincidence, or call it a spiritual encounter...I for one, know that angels are among us....God sends angels to work through people who love Him and who have been called according to His purpose to those who are sensitive to the Spirit, and I am SO glad He does.

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« Reply #713 on: June 02, 2011, 09:22:43 AM »

The Children of Israel


At the Henry Street Hebrew School, Goldblatt, the new teacher, finished the day's lesson. It was now time for the usual question period.

"Mr. Goldblatt," announced little Joey, "there's something I can't figure out."

"What's that Joey?" asked Goldblatt.

"Well accordin' to the Bible, the Children of Israel crossed the Red Sea. Right?"

"Right."

"And the Children of Israel beat up the Philistines, right?"

"Er--right."

"And the Children of Israel built the Temple, right?"

"Again, you're right."

"And the Children of Israel fought the Egyptians, and the Children of Israel fought the Romans, and the Children of Israel were always doin' somethin' important. Right?"

"All that is right, too," agreed Goldblatt. "So, what's your question?"

"What I wanna know is this," demanded Joey. "What were all the grown-ups doin'"?

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« Reply #714 on: June 02, 2011, 01:42:56 PM »

Quote from: HisDaughter
The Children of Israel

 Grin   Thanks - I needed this laugh.
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« Reply #715 on: June 03, 2011, 09:44:23 AM »

Bill Gates: things they did not and will not learn in school

Rule 1 : Life is not fair - get used to it!
 
Rule 2 : The world doesn't care about your self-esteem.

The world will expect you to accomplish something

BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
 
Rule 3 : You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school.

You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.
 
Rule 4 : If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss
 
Rule 5 : Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity.

Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping:

They called it opportunity.
 
Rule 6 : If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault,

so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
 
Rule 7 : Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring

as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills,

cleaning your clothes and listening to you

talk about how cool you thought you were.

So before you save the rain forest

from the parasites of your parent's generation,

try delousing the closet in your own room.
 
Rule 8 : Your school may have done away with winners and losers,

but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades

and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer.

*This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
 
Rule 9 : Life is not divided into semesters.

You don't get summers off and very few employers

are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF.

*Do that on your own time.
 
Rule 10 : Television is NOT real life.

In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
 
Rule 11 : Be nice to nerds.

Chances are you'll end up working for one.

           
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« Reply #716 on: June 03, 2011, 03:49:44 PM »

 Grin   It's hard to pick a favorite, but I think #11 would have to be a top contender.
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« Reply #717 on: June 04, 2011, 09:26:29 AM »

The Test

Six minutes to six, said the clock over the information booth in New York's Grand Central Station. The tall young Army officer lifted his sunburned face and narrowed his eyes to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that choked him. In six minutes he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 18 months, the woman he had never seen yet whose words had sustained him unfailingly. 

          Lt. Blandford remembered one day in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of enemy planes. 

            In one of those letters, he had confessed to her that often he felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer, "Of course you fear...all brave men do." Next time you doubt yourself,  I want you to hear my voice reciting to you: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of Death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me.'....He had remembered that and it renewed his strength. 

            He was going to hear her voice now. Four minutes to six. A girl passed closer to him, and Lt. Blandford started. She was wearing a flower, but it was not the little red rose they had agreed upon. Besides, this girl was only about eighteen, and Hollis Maynel had told him she was 30. "What of it?" he had answered,  "I'm 32." He was 29. His mind went back to that book he had read in the training camp. 

            "Of Human Bondage" it was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's handwriting. He had never believed that a woman could see into a man's heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on the bookplate: Hollis Maynell. He got a hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written , she had answered. Next day he had been shipped out, but they had gone on writing. For thirteen months she had faithfully replied. When his letters did not arrive, she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him. But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. She had explained: "If your feeling for me had reality, what I look like won't matter. Suppose I am beautiful. 

I'd always be haunted that you had been taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me.  Suppose that I'm plain, (and you must admit that this is more likely), then I'd always fear that you were only going on writing because you were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New York, you shall see me and then you shall make your own decision." 

            One minute to six...he flipped the pages of the book he held. Then Lt. Blandford's heart leapt. A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In her pale-green suit, she was like springtime come alive. He started toward her, forgetting to notice that she was wearing no rose,  and as he moved, a small, provacative smile curved her lips. 

            "Going my way, soldier?" she murmured. 

            He made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump. Her thick-ankled feet were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose on her rumpled coat. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. Blandford felt as though he were being split in two, so keen was his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld his own, and there she stood. He could see her pale face was gentle and sensible;  her gray eyes had a warm twinkle. 

          Lt. Blandford did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the worn copy of "Of Human Bondage" which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something special, a friendship for which he had been and must be ever grateful... 

            He squared his shoulders, saluted, and held the book out toward the woman, although even while he spoke he felt the bitterness of his disappointment. 

            "I'm Lt. Blandford, and you're Miss Maynell. I'm so glad you could meet me. May--may I take you to dinner?" The woman's face broadened in a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is all about, son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you she's waiting for you in that restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test.

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« Reply #718 on: June 04, 2011, 04:15:17 PM »

Thanks HisDaughter - I enjoyed that.
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« Reply #719 on: June 04, 2011, 08:27:47 PM »

Thanks HisDaughter - I enjoyed that.

Yeah, I really liked that one too!
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