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Archive for March, 2010

The blue ribbon


March 18th, 2010   by Connor

A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in high school by telling them the difference they each made. Using a process developed by Helice Bridges of Del Mar, California, she called each student to the front of the class, one at a time. First she told them how the student made a difference to her and the class. Then she presented each of them with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters which read, "Who I Am Makes a Difference."

Afterwards the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread his acknowledgment ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the results, see who honored whom and report back to the class in about a week.

One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby company and honored him for helping him with his career planning. He gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two extra ribbons, and said, "We're doing a class project on recognition, and we'd like you to go out, find somebody to honor, give them a blue ribbon, then give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a third person to keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please report back to me and tell me what happened."

Later that day the juniorexecutive went in to see his boss, who had been noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative genius. The boss seemed very surprised. The junior executive asked him if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, "Well, sure."

The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his boss's jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he said, "Would you do me a favor? Would you take this extra ribbon and pass it on by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this recognition ceremony going and find out how it affects people."

That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down. He said, "The most incredible thing happened to me today. I was in my office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius. Imagine. He thinks I'm a creative genius. Then he put this blue ribbon that says 'Who I Am Makes A Difference' on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor. As I was driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would like to honor with this ribbon and I thought about you. I want to honor you.

"My days are really hectic and when I come home I don't pay a lot of attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough grades in school and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great kid and I love you!"

The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears, "I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn't think you loved me. Now I don't need to."

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Try to Remember the Good Things


March 15th, 2010   by Connor

When times become difficult (and you know they sometimes will), remember a moment in your life that was filled with joy and happiness.

Remember how it made you feel, and you will have the strength you need to get through any trial.

When life throws you one more obstacle than you think you can handle, remember something you achieved through perseverance and by struggling to the end.

In doing so, you'll find you have the ability to overcome each obstacle brought your way.

When you find yourself drained and depleted of energy, remember to find a place of sanctuary and rest.

Take the neccessary time in your own life to dream your dreams and renew your energy, so you'll be ready to face each new day.

When you feel tension building, find something fun to do. You'll find that the stress you feel will dissipate and your thoughts will become clearer.

When you're faced with so many negative and draining situations, realize how minuscule problems will seem when you view your life as a whole--and remember the positive things.

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It's time to change


March 12th, 2010   by Connor

To everything, there is a season,
and a time to every purpose.

The world needs to know
about my findings,that's all that's important!

It is one thing to publish a book
in the comfort of the university,

it is another to leave
everything behind,chasing a theory
that is pu|| f||tasy!

The earth spins
at 1,000 miles an hour as we desperately try
to keep from being thrown off.

Like the first blush of winter
that signals a great migration.

Was there any warning
of their arrival?

a single event
that set this chain into motion?

This is what
you've been waiting for.

Was it a whisper in God's ear?

Be the one we need.

Survive.

Adapt.

Escape.

And if we could mark
that single moment in time.

that first hint of the prophecy
of approaching danger...

Would we have done
anything differently?

Could it have been stopped?

Or was the dye long ago cast?

And if we could go back,
alter its course,stop it from happening...

Would we?

Our future is written
on our DNA.

Just as the past, it seems,
is written in stone.

Was the die cast
from the very beginning?

Or is it in our own hands
to alter the course of destiny?

Of all our abilities,
it is free will that truly makes us unique.

With it, we have a tiny,
but potent, chance to deny fate.

And only with it
can we find our way back to being human.

Tags: Change, Time
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A Little Piece of Me


March 8th, 2010   by Connor

When he told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which has just smashed. There were pieces of me all over the tidy, tan tiles. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, explaining it was for the best, I could do better, it was his fault and not mine. I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not immune; perhaps one did not become immune to such felony.

He left and I tried to get on with my life. I filled the kettle and put it on to boil, I took out my old red mug and filled it with coffee watching as each coffee granule slipped in to the bone china. That was what my life had been like, endless omissions of coffee granules, somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee.

Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning I pretended not to hear it. That's what Mike's leaving had been like, sudden and with an awful finality. I would rather just wallow in uncertainty than have things finished. I laughed at myself. Imagine getting all philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee. I must be getting old.

And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror. A young woman full of promise and hope, a young woman with bright eyes and full lips just waiting to take on the world. I never loved Mike anyway. Besides there are more important things. More important than love, I insist to myself firmly. The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.

He doesn't haunt my dreams as I feared that night. Instead I am flying far across fields and woods, looking down on those below me. Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter, brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it. I realize later, with some degree of understanding, that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly. The next night my dream is similar to the previous nights, but without the hunter. I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony. I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me, there is another person, not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend, but there is someone out there who is my soul mate. I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together, what Mike has is merely a little part of my time in earth, a little understanding of my physical being. He has only, a little piece of me.

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A Walk In The Woods


March 6th, 2010   by Connor

I was puzzled! Why was this old woman making such a fuss about an old copse which was of no use to anybody? She had written letters to the local paper, even to a national, protesting about a projected by-pass to her village, and, looking at a map, the route was nowhere near where she lived and it wasn't as if the area was attractive. I was more than puzzled, I was intrigued.

The enquiry into the route of the new by-pass to the village was due to take place shortly, and I wanted to know what it was that motivated her. So it was that I found myself knocking on a cottage door, being received by Mary Smith and then being taken for a walk to the woods.

"I've always loved this place", she said, "it has a lot of memories for me, and for others. We all used it. They called it 'Lovers lane'. It's not much of a lane, and it doesn't go anywhere important, but that's why we all came here. To be away from people, to be by ourselves " she added.

It was indeed pleasant that day and the songs of many birds could be heard. Squirrels gazed from the branches, quite bold in their movements, obviously few people passed this way and they had nothing to fear. I could imagine the noise of vehicles passing through these peaceful woods when the by-pass was built, so I felt that she probably had something there but as I hold strong opinions about the needs of the community over-riding the opinions of private individuals, I said nothing. The village was quite a dangerous place because of the traffic especially for old people and children, their safety was more important to me than an old woman's whims.

"Take this tree", she said pausing after a short while. "To you it is just that, a tree. Not unlike many others here". She gently touched the bark. "Look here, under this branch, what can you see?"

"It looks as if someone has done a bit of carving with a knife" I said after a cursory inspection.

"Yes, that's what it is!" she said softly. "There are letters and a lover's heart".

I looked again, this time more carefully. The heart was still there and there was a suggestion of an arrow through it. The letters on one side were indistinct, but on the other an 'R' was clearly visible with what looked like an 'I' after it. "Some budding romance?" I asked, "did you know who they were?"

"Oh yes, I knew them", said Mary Smith, "it says RH loves MS".

I realised that I could be getting out of my depth, and longed to be in my office, away from here and this old lady, snug, and with a mug of tea in my hand.

She went on …"He had a penknife with a spike for getting stones from a horse's hoof, and I helped him to carve my initials. We were very much in love, but he was going away, and could not tell me what he was involved in the army. I had guessed of course. It was the last evening we ever spent together,because he went away the next day, back to his Unit. "

Mary Smith was quiet for a while, then she sobbed. "His mother showed me the telegram. 'Sergeant R Holmes ….. Killed in action in the 9)invasion of France'".

"'I had hoped that you and Robin would one day get married" she said, "He was my only child, and I would have loved to be a Granny, they would have been such lovely babies'- she was like that! "

"Two years later she too was dead. 'Pneumonia, following a chill on the chest' was what the doctor said, but I think it was an old fashioned broken heart. A child would have helped both of us."

There was a further pause. Mary Smith gently caressed the wounded tree, just as she would have caressed him. "And now they want to take our tree away from me." Another quiet sob, then she turned to me. "I was young and pretty then, I could have had anybody, I wasn't always the old woman you see here now. I had everything I wanted in life, a lovely man, health and a future to look forwards to".

She paused again and looked around. The breeze gently moved through the leaves with a sighing sound. "There were others, of course, but not a patch on my Robin!" she said strongly. "And now I have nothing - except the memories this tree holds. If only I could get my hands on that awful man who writes in the paper about the value of the road they are going to build where we are standing now, I would tell him. Has he never loved, has he never lived, does he not know anything about memories? We were not the only ones, you know, I still meet some who came here as Robin and I did. Yes, I would tell him!"

I turned away, sick at heart.

Tags: Walk, Wood
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Flying Turtle


March 1st, 2010   by Connor

There was a large pond in the middle of a jungle. All kinds of animals came to drink water from it. A small turtle had been living by the pond for many years. And he had become good friends with two cranes who lived there too.

They used to play together, and tell each other stories. The cranes would fly to far away lands and when they returned to the pond, they would tell the turtle stories about all that they saw. The turtle, of course, could not go with them because he could not fly. But he loved to hear the cranes’ stories.

Then one year it did not rain at all. Slowly, the pond started to dry up. The turtle and the cranes were worried. One day the turtle said to the cranes ‘There is very little water left in the pond. We must find some water soon. You can fly to far away lands, why don’t you search for a bigger pond with more water. And then we can go there’.

The cranes thought that was a very good idea. So they flew off in search of a pond. Soon they found a large lake near the blue mountain. They flew back and told the turtle about it. They were all very happy, but there was one problem. The blue mountains were very far away, and there was no way the turtle could walk to it.

So they all sat down to think. ‘I wish you could fly like us’ said one crane. They all sat thinking. Then the turtle shouted, ‘I have a great idea. I will fly with you’. The cranes said ‘o-ho, come on, you can’t fly. This is no time to joke, we are trying to think’.

The turtle replied, ‘I am not joking my friend, I am serious. This is what we’ll do. Both of you tightly hold onto the ends of a stick between your strong claws. I will hold onto the stick with my mouth. So when you fly off, I will fly off with you."

The cranes thought that was a very clever idea indeed. But they warned the turtle, "You must remember not to speak at all as you fly.’

So off they went flying together. As they were flying over a village, a little girl saw them. She had never seen anything like this before. She shouted out to her friends ‘Come, look at a flying turtle’. At first everyone thought she was joking, but soon the whole village was out on the street and shouting ‘Flying Turtle’ ‘F-L-Y-I-N-G T-U-R-T-L-E’.

The cranes and the turtle could see the large crowd below. They wondered what they had gathered for. It was just then that they heard the shouts of ‘Flying Turtle’ ‘F-L-Y-I-N-G T-U-R-T-L-E’. The turtle was very pleased, to hear such a big crowd cheering him. After all, this was all his idea. He started to say, ‘They are shouting about m...,’ . But just as he opened his mouth to speak, the stick slipped out of his mouth. "Me eeeee - eee - eeeeeeee..." The screaming turtle fell to ground and died.

The cranes were very sad about losing their friend. As they sat by the blue mountain lake one of them said ‘I wish our friend turtle had not opened his mouth.’ The other crane nodded, ‘I wish he had paid more attention to what he was doing, and not worried about what people were saying.’

Tags: Fly, Turtle
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