Edition 23
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Mauritius
Start each day the way you wish to live it. Take positive control of your thoughts, your actions, your feelings and your attitude before some random occurrence ends up imposing its perspective on you.
Be open to the surprises while also being decisive and focused about what you intend to do. Get a few nice accomplishments under your belt early on, and set an effective, empowering pace for the whole day.
Right away, find some new thing for which to be thankful. Your sincere gratitude will shine its light on the best of the day's possibilities.
When you feel a worry coming, move quickly to transform it into creative action. If it seems that you're beginning to be overwhelmed, focus intently on whatever is most important to you.
While the day is young, decide on some new way that you can make a meaningful difference for others. Then start taking the steps that will make it happen.
Give yourself some real power and effectiveness by beginning each day in a joyfully decisive and lovingly purposeful way. And life grows richer with each passing hour.
Ralph Marston
Anyone can carry his burden, however hard, until nightfall.
Anyone can do his work, however hard, for one day.
Anyone can live sweetly, patiently, lovingly, purely, till the sun goes down.
And this is all life really means.
Robert Louis Stevenson
These 2 creations are made with pencils.
The Whistleblower.
He always would intrigue me, the raggedy old man,
Who
cycled past my home each day, t'was said his name was Sam.
He had a floppy
hat he wore, tucked behind his ears,
His hair was salt and pepper, and he was
aged some eighty years.
His coat was tied with string and his demeanor very
shy,
Yet when I was but four years old, I just wanted to say " Hi".
I was
truly fascinated with his looks of this old guy,
Yet my Mum forbade I talk
with him, as we watched him cycle by.
Sometimes he would be walking, pushing on his
bike,
Loaded up with bags and things, as if upon a hike.
Within the wheels
he'd threaded, coloured bits of string,
And in the bags he carried, every
single thing.
The villagers would gossip, about Sam and his
ways,
An aged old accentric, so the rumour says..
A kindly man on hard
times fell, so the story goes,
And all he owned his bicycle, and a few old
dirty clothes.
The stars became his blanket, the trees became his
shade,
He'd spend the nightimes snuggled up along the river glade.
He
truly lived a simple life, as anyone could see,
And when he passed I'd wave
my hand and he'd wave right back at me.
I could hear him coming, he'd whistle loud and
clear,
And looked forward to just waving out,I truly had no fear.
And then
one day he walked along, my Mother wasnt there,
Just my Dad, a kindly man,
who didnt have a care.
I asked if I could talk to him, and Dad said " Yes
Okay,
" But please dont stand too close to him, that is all that I will
say".
I hurried out to meet him, grabbing daisies on the way,
A little
gift of flowers, in a tiny pretty spray.
I held my hand out to him, my whistleblower
friend,
And a wrinkled aged grubby hand, to me he did extend.
My Father he
was watching, I couldn't come to harm,'
There was no cause for worry, or any
such alarm.
" My child I'd like to thank you", were his words to
me,
" For the gift of Gods sweet flowers, you've brought to me today",
And
then he smiled so sweetly, a smile I wont forget,
And he waved out to my
Father, and doffed his wrinkled hat.
I was only four years old, but wont forget that
day,
And even at that sweet young age, for Sam I'd always pray.
I dedicate
this poem, to the man who at me smiled,
To Sam the Whistleblower, and my
memories as a child.
Copyright ©2005 Sally Y Hemingway
Video:
A woman caught a 13-foot long gator while on a trip to South
Carolina.
http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid34762727001?bclid=0&bctid=610294731001
An abandoned dog was looking for a comfortable, protected place to sleep. He chose baby Jesus as his comfort.
With special thanks to my friends Megan and Ellie for added shares today.
