Story's and Children
"But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God."St. Luke 18:16
Children are such precious little creatures. They look on life as new and exciting, with everything needing to be explored and talked about. Each of us should take time out every day to get down to a child's level and look at something........a flower, a bug, the sky, the world, another child, or better yet an adult. See what they are seeing and you may just change the way you act and start to see things a little differently. The following saying's and story's are wonderful examples of the way children see the world, and the compassion they can have. You may want to get out a kleenex just in case, you may need it. And the last story here is a perfect example of a flustered child! Hope you enjoy them and more improtantly I hope you get some meaning from them.
Childhood Doesn't Wait
I was sitting on a bench
while in a nearby mall,
When I noticed a young mother
with two children who were small.
The youngest one was whining,
"Pick me up," I heard him beg
but the mother's face grew angry
as the child clung to her leg.
"Don't hang on to me," she shouted as she pushed his hands away,
I wish I'd had the courage
to go up to her and say...
"The time will come too quickly
when those little arms that tug,
Won't ask for you to hold them
or won't freely give a hug.
"The day will sneak up subtly
just as it did with me,
When you can't recall the last time
that your child sat on your knee.
"Like those sacred, pre-dawn feedings
when we cherished time alone
Our babies grow and leave behind
those special times we've know.
"So when your child comes to you
with a book that you can share,
Or asks that you would tuck him in
and help him say his prayer...
"When he comes to sit and chat
or would like to take a walk,
Before you answer that you can't
`cause there's no time to talk
"Remember what all parents learn
so many times too late,
That years go by too quickly
and that childhood doesn't wait.
"Take every opportunity,
if one should slip away
Reach hard to get it back again,
don't wait another day."
I watched that mother walk away
her children followed near,
I hope she'll pick them up
before her chances disappear
"Butterfly Kisses"
We often learn the most from our children. Some
time ago, a friend of mine punished his 3-year-old daughter for
wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and he became
infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the tree.
Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next
morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his
earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found that the
box was empty.He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give
someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside of it?"The
little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, daddy,
it's not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy." The
father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he
begged her forgiveness. My friend told me that he kept that gold box by
his bed for years. Whenever he was discouraged, he would take out
an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it
there.
In a very real sense, each of us as parents
has been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and
kisses from our children. There is no more precious possession anyone
could hold.
"The Most Caring Child"
Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked
about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest
was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child
whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost
his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old
gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his
mother asked him what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said,
"Nothing, I just helped him cry."
"What It Means to Be Adopted"
Teacher Debbie Moon's first graders were discussing a picture of a
family. One little boy in the picture had a different color hair than the other family members. One child suggested that he was adopted and a little girl named Jocelynn Jay said, "I know all about adoptions because I was adopted," "What does it mean to be adopted?" asked another child. "It means," said Jocelynn, "that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy."
Giving Blood
Giving blood many years ago, when I worked as a
transfusion volunteer at Stanford Hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liza who was suffering from a disease and needed a blood from her five-year-old
brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, Yes, I’ll do it if it will save Liza. As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, Will I start to die right away?
Being young, the boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give her all his blood.
The Most Beautiful Flower
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree. Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown, For the world was intent on dragging me down. And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day, A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play. He stood right before me with his head tilted down And said with great excitement, Look what I found!
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light. Wanting him to take his dead
flower and go off to play, I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise, It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too. That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you. The weed before me was dying or dead. Not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave. So I reached for the flower, and replied, Just what I need.
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand, He held it mid-air without reason or plan. It was then that I noticed for the very first time That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind. I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun As I thanked him for picking the very best one. You’re
welcome, he smiled, and then ran off to play, Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree. How did he know of my self-indulged plight? Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight. Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see. The problem was not with the world; the problem was me. And for all of those times I myself had been blind, I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that’s mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
"Discouraged?"
As I was driving home from work one day, I stopped to watch a local
Little League baseball game that was being played in a park near my
home. As I sat down behind the bench on the first-baseline, I asked one of the boys what the score was. "We're behind 14 to nothing," he answered with a smile. "Really," I said. "I have to say you don't look very discouraged." "Discouraged?" the boy asked with a puzzled look on his face. "Why should we be discouraged? We haven't been up to bat yet."
"Two Nickels and Five Pennies"
When an ice cream sundae cost much less, a boy entered a coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae?" "Fifty cents," replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied a number of coins in it. "How much is a dish of plain ice cream?" he inquired. Some people were now waiting for a table, and the waitress was impatient. "Thirty-five cents," she said angrily. The little boy again counted the coins . "I'll have the plain ice cream." The waitress brought the ice cream and walked away. The boy finished, paid
the cashier, and departed. When the waitress came back, she swallowed hard. At what she saw. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies -- her tip.
"Roles And How We Play Them"
Whenever I'm disappointed with my spot in my life, I stop and think
about little Jamie Scott. Jamie was trying out for a part in a school
play. His mother told me that he'd set his heart on being in it, though
she feared he would not be chosen.
On the day the parts were awarded, went with her to collect him after school. Jamie rushed up to her, eyes shining with pride and excitement. "Guess what Mum," he shouted, and then said those words that will remain a
lesson to me: "I've been chosen to clap and cheer."
"Paco Come Home"
In a small town in Spain, a man named Jorge had a bitter argument with his young son, Paco. The next day Jorge discovered that Paco's bed
was empty - he had run away from home.
Overcome with remorse, Jorge searched his soul and realized that his son was the most important to him than anything else. He wanted to start
over. Jorge went to a well-known store in the center of town and posted a large sign that read, "Paco, come home. I love you. Meet me here tomorrow morning."
The next morning Jorge went to the store, where he found no less than seven young boys named Paco who had also run away from home. They
were all answering the call for love, hoping it was their father inviting them home with open arms.
Favorite Teacher
Jean Thompson stood in front of her fifth-grade class on the very first day of school in the Fall and told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her pupils and said that she loved each of them the same,
that she would treat them all alike. And that was impossible because there in front of her, slumped in his seat on the third row, was a little boy named Teddy
Stoddard.
Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed he didn’t play well with the other children, that his clothes were unkempt and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy was unpleasant. It got to the point during the first few months that she would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X’s and then highlighting the
F at the top of the paper biggest of all. Because Teddy was a sullen little boy, no one else seemed to enjoy him, either.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child’s records and delayed Teddy’s until last. When she opened his file, she found a surprise. His first-grade teacher had written, Teddy is a bright, inquisitive child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners. He is a joy to be around.
His second-grade teacher had penned, Teddy is an excellent student, well-liked by all his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.
His third-grade teacher had noted, Teddy continues to work hard but his mother’s death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn’t show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some
steps aren’t taken.
Teddy’s fourth-grade teacher had commented, Teddy is withdrawn and doesn’t show much interest in school. He doesn’t have many friends and often falls asleep in class. He is tardy and could become a more serious
problem.
By now Mrs. Thompson realized the extent of the problem, but Christmas was coming fast. It was all she could do, with the school play and all, until the day before the holidays began and she was suddenly forced to focus
again on Teddy Stoddard. Her children brought her presents, all in beautiful ribbon and bright paper, except Teddy’s, which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper of a scissored grocery bag.
Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other
presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of cologne. She stifled the children’s laughter while she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume behind the other wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed behind after class just long enough to say, Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my mom used to.
After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and speaking. Instead, she began to teach children. Jean Thompson paid particular attention to one they all
called Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. On those days when there would be an important test, Mrs. Thompson would remember that cologne. By the end of the year he had become one of the highest achieving children in the class and, well, he had also somewhat become the pet of that teacher who
had once vowed to love all of her children exactly the same.
A year later she found a note under her door, from Teddy,telling her that of all the teachers he’d had in elementary school, she was his favorite. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still his favorite teacher of all time. Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he’d stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson she was still his favorite teacher. Four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor’s degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still his favorite teacher but that now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.
The story doesn’t end there. You see, there was yet another letter that Spring. Teddy said he’d met this girl and was to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the pew usually reserved for the mother of the groom. And on that day, she wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And on that special day, Jean Thompson smelled
just like the way Teddy remembered his mother smelling on their last Christmas together.
THE MORAL: You never can tell what type of impact you
may make on another’s life by your actions or lack of action. Consider this fact in your venture through life.
"Rescued"
A little girl whose parents had died lived with her grandmother and
slept in an upstairs bedroom. One night there was a fire in the house
and the grandmother perished while trying to rescue the child. The fires spread quickly, and the first floor was engulfed in flames. Neighbors called the fire department, then stood helplessly by, unable to enter the house because flames blocked all the entrances. The little girl appeared at an upstairs window, crying for help, just as word spread among the crowd that firefighters would
be delayed a few minutes because they were all at another fire.
Suddenly, a man appeared with a ladder, put it up against the side of the house and disappeared inside. When he appeared, he had the little girl in
his arms. He delivered the child to the waiting arms below, then disappeared into the night.
An investigation revealed that the child had no living relatives, and
weeks later a meeting was held in the town hall to determine who would take
the child into their home and bring her up. A teacher said she would raise the child. She pointed out she could ensure her a good education. A farmer offered her an upbringing on his farm. He pointed out that living on a farm was healthy and satisfying. Others spoke, giving their reasons why it was to the child's
advantage to live with them. Finally, the town's richest resident arose and said, "I can give this child all the advantages that you have mentioned here, plus money and everything money can buy." Throughout all this, the child remained
silent, her eyes on the floor. "Does anyone else want to speak?" asked the meeting chairman.
A man came forward from the back of the hall. His gait was slow and he seemed in pain. When he got to the front of the room, he stood directly before the little girl and held out his arms. The crowd gasped. His hand and arms were terribly scarred. The child cried out, "This is the man who rescued me!" With a leap, she threw her arms around the man's neck, holding on for dear life, just as she had that fateful night. She buried her face on his
shoulder and sobbed for a few moments. Then she looked up and smiled at him.
"This meeting is adjourned," said the chairman.
REALLY IMPORTANT STUFF KIDS HAVE TAUGHT ME
1. It's more fun to color outside the lines.
2. If you're gonna draw on the wall, do it behind the couch.
3. Ask why until you understand. 4. Hang on tight. 5. Even if you've been fishing for 3 hours and haven't gotten anything except poison ivy and a sunburn, you're still better off than the worm.6. Make up the rules as you go along. 7. It doesn't matter who started it. 8. Ask for sprinkles. 9. If the horse you're drawing looks more like a dog, make it a dog. 10. Save a place in line for your friends.11. Sometimes you have to take the test before you'vefinished studying.12. If you want a kitten, start out asking for a horse.13. Picking your nose when no one else is looking is still picking your nose. 14. Just keep banging until someone opens the door. 15. Making your bed is a waste of time. 16. There is no good reason why clothes have to match. 17. Even Popeye didn't eat his spinach until he absolutely had to. 18. You work so hard peddling up the hill that you hate to brake on the way down. 19. You can't ask to start over just because you're losing the game.
THE SCHOOL PLAY
Two little boys, both age nine, were set to appear in their first play. The first boy had to say, Ha fair maiden, I've come to snatch a kiss and fill your soul
with hope. The second little boy was to say, Hark, a pistol shot.
On the first night, the two boys were very nervous. It was their first time on stage and their parents were in the front row. The first little boy came out and said, Ha fair maiden, I've come to kiss your snatch and fill your hole with soap.
This made the second boy even more nervous. He came on
stage and said, Hark, a shistol pot.......a shostile pit.........a pastal shit.......shit pot.......cow shit......bull shit!!!! I didn't want to be in this damn play anyway!!
Children will invariably talk, eat, walk, think, respond, and act like their parents. Give them a goal to work toward. Give them a pattern that they can see clearly, and you give them something that gold and silver cannot buy!
All the above stories and poems i have recieved thru my email....if you know the author's, please let me know, so i can credit them, or if you are the author and would like me to take the story off of my page please email me. Thanks to all.HOME
Email: smew@somethingorother.com
