I had been in that hole for a very long time— In the dark and the damp, in the cold and the slime. The shaft was above me; I saw it quite clear, But there’s no way I ever could reach it from here. I could not remember the world way up there, So I lost every hope and gave in to despair. I knew nothing but darkness, the floor, and the wall. Then from off in the distance I heard someone call: “Get up! Get ready! There’s nothing the matter! Take rocks and take sticks and build up a fine ladder!” This was a thought that had not crossed my mind, But I started to stack all the stones I could find. When I ran out of stones, then old sticks were my goal, For some way or another I’d climb from that hole. I soon had a ladder that stood very tall, And I thought, “I’ll soon leave this place once and for all!” I climbed up my ladder, a difficult chore, For from lifting those boulders, my shoulders were sore. I climbed up the ladder, but soon had to stop, For my ladder stopped short, some ten feet from the top. I went back down my ladder and felt all around, But there were no more boulders nor sticks to be found. I sat down in the darkness and started to cry. I’d done all I could do and I gave my best try. But in spite of my work, in this hole I must die. And all I could do was to sit and think, “Why?” Was my ladder to short? Was my hole much too deep? Then from way up on high came a voice: “Do not weep.” And then faith, hope, and love entered into my chest As the voice calmly told me that I’d done my best. He said, “You have worked hard, and your labor’s been rough, But the ladder you’ve built is at last tall enough. So do not despair; there is reason to hope, Just climb up your ladder; I’ll throw down my rope.” I climbed up my ladder, then climbed up the cord. When I got to the top of it, there stood the Lord. I’ve never been happier; my struggle was done. I blinked in the brightness that came from the Son. I fell to the ground as His feet I did kiss. I cried, “Lord, can I ever repay Thee for this?” He looked all about. There were holes in the ground. They had people inside, and were seen all around. There were thousands of holes that were damp, dark and deep. Then the Lord looked at me, and He said, “feed my sheep,” And he went on his way to save other lost souls, So I got right to work, calling down to the holes, “Get up! Get ready! There is nothing the matter! Take rocks, and take sticks, and build up a fine ladder!” It now was my calling to spread the good word, The most glorious message that man ever heard: That there’s one who is coming to save one and all, And we need to be ready when he gives the call. He’ll pull us all out of the holes that we’re in And save all our souls from cold death and from sin. So do not lose faith; there is reason to hope: Just climb up your ladder; he’ll throw down his rope.
"forgive them, for they know not what they do." it came right out of the blue. an angered soul, beginning to take its tole, was soothed and calmed by the man who has holes in his palms. the imediate feeling of peace overwhelmed the heart, happiness increased. with answered prayers, the anger fell, because he cared.
I woke up this morning, put on a little pink dress. Ruffles underneath, and had little blonde curls on top my head. Pretty in pink was the way it seemed.
I ran to daddy and hugged his knees. This I knew, I loved. With crooked baby teeth, and chocolate on my mouth; he smiled. Pretty in pink was the way it seemed
I danced on his toes, and he twirled me round. We didn’t stop, even when the song was gone. Pretty in pink was the way it seemed.
When we finally stopped, I picked up my school bag. Jeans snug tight, and ragged old shoes walked me to my car. Pretty in pink was the way it seemed.
Coming home late, left over’s cold This is what home is, where daddies are left alone. Pretty in pink was the way it seemed.
Moving on out, and moving on up. No need for twirling, or little pinky dresses. that was only when pretty in pink was the way it seemed.
A man is at his finest
towards the finish of the year;
He is almost what he should be
when the Christmas season is here;
Then he's thinking more of others
than he's thought the months before,
And the laughter of his children
is a joy worth toiling for.
He is less a selfish creature than
at any other time;
When the Christmas spirit rules him
he comes close to the sublime.
When it's Christmas man is bigger
and is better in his part;
He is keener for the service
that is prompted by the heart.
All the petty thoughts and narrow
seem to vanish for awhile
And the true reward he's seeking
is the glory of a smile.
Then for others he is toiling and
somehow it seems to me
That at Christmas he is almost
what God wanted him to be.
If I had to paint a picture of a man
I think I'd wait
Till he'd fought his selfish battles
and had put aside his hate.
I'd not catch him at his labors
when his thoughts are all of pelf,
On the long days and the dreary
when he's striving for himself.
I'd not take him when he's sneering,
when he's scornful or depressed,
But I'd look for him at Christmas
when he's shining at his best.
Man is ever in a struggle
and he's oft misunderstood;
There are days the worst that's in him
is the master of the good,
But at Christmas kindness rules him
and he puts himself aside
And his petty hates are vanquished
and his heart is opened wide.
Oh, I don't know how to say it,
but somehow it seems to me
That at Christmas man is almost
what God sent him here to be.
The more I learn about him, the more I wish I could have met him. I think him and I would have gotten along beautifully. I'm sure he could have taught me a lot. He already has, and he isn't even here..
-- written by Max Ehrmann
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
I'm loosing a grandpa right now... and nothing but floods of memories and wishes are flowing through my mind. I have loved both of my grandpa's. Though, I have never met one, and the other has been distant.. my love is still there. And, will always be there.
"Our opportunities to give of ourselves are indeed limitless, but they are also perishable. There are hearts to gladden. There are kind words to say. There are gifts to be given. There are deeds to be done. There are souls to be saved.
As we remember that “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God,” (Mosiah 2:17) we will not find ourselves in the unenviable position of Jacob Marley’s ghost, who spoke to Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’s immortal "Christmas Carol." Marley spoke sadly of opportunities lost. Said he: 'Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunity misused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I!'
Marley added: 'Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!'
Fortunately, as we know, Ebenezer Scrooge changed his life for the better. I love his line, 'I am not the man I was.'
Why is Dickens’ "Christmas Carol" so popular? Why is it ever new? I personally feel it is inspired of God. It brings out the best within human nature. It gives hope. It motivates change. We can turn from the paths which would lead us down and, with a song in our hearts, follow a star and walk toward the light. We can quicken our step, bolster our courage, and bask in the sunlight of truth. We can hear more clearly the laughter of little children. We can dry the tear of the weeping. We can comfort the dying by sharing the promise of eternal life. If we lift one weary hand which hangs down, if we bring peace to one struggling soul, if we give as did the Master, we can—by showing the way—become a guiding star for some lost mariner."
i do not live in this world. I live in my own. my very own world. I do not know what it looks like, because my eyes do not live there. only my spirit does. only those parts of me that are still authentic, and still 100% greater than the entirety of all things within. It is, a place among places. I live there not alone. I am surrounded. But only by those who know they are there. Together, we are beautiful. And we are whole. Yet, we are ever changing.
i live of this world. I live surrounded. I can see, and I can hear. Here, it is tragically beautiful. Tree's share wisdom, rivers flow with power, children laugh with gratitude, and buildings rise with nobility. It is, a beautiful sight in my memory. A place among places. and, I am not alone. But together, we are alone.
In my world, I have a home. It is light. It is all things pure and great. I live there all year round. Yet I am always about. I do not eat, I do not need to eat. For I am always full. I crave for naught. and I am always renewed. When I am in my world, I am strong. and I am great.
Here, i hunger. for insatiable things, that stand firm. relentless. I can never have enough. or be enough. Here, I am always searching. But, i am also finding. My eyes shift from side to side, and they do not ever stop. I am lost, when I am home. I am always somewhere else. Here; I am not.
In my world, I sit. and this is everything. I am happy. and fear is unknown. In my world, I am nothing. Nothing but I am. Whole, peace, air, happiness, laughter, grand, and small. I am what I am. and I am everything. Nothing and everything. It is harmony.
When I came here, I forgot. My great eyes and my educated mind have tricked me. They tell me I see beautiful things, and this is enough. But when I remember, I know that this will never be enough. I must feel. But, I am stuck here. trapped. lost. I have become a fraud in my own dream. I am nothing here.
I am not, I am.
lost.
But sometimes, sometimes I can feel. I close my eyes, and I see again. And i am back in my own world. No longer searching. I am back to peace. back to I am.
I read this quote today. and it helps me make sense of myself. thank you for the poster. and the creator. and for those who understand.
"I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know - unless it be to share our laughter.
We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.
For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves."
~ James Kavanaugh, There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves
(As quoted on www.goodreads.com. Mr. Kavanaugh, I hope I have this beautiful quote correct.)
this is a wonderful assignment I had to do in my creative writing class. I had to pick six words, and use them as the ending word of each line, but mix up their order.Its called a sestina. and, I really really enjoyed writing this. Can you tell I'm excited for Summer already? hehe.. :)
To me, nothing says heaven like a day full of freedom.
To lay in the sun, in your backyard,
To pick ripe red fresh strawberries,
And eat them with the face next door; full of freckles.
To Watch the blue, orange, and pink sunsets,
To grow up an American.
where real bliss can be seen; is right in your own backyard.
Stretched across a towel, the colour of summer strawberries.
Dreaming of the baseball feller with the handsome freckles,
And the perfect date, where you would pack a picnic and watch the sunset.
Oh, to be the girl who is All-American.
There’s nothing that says heaven like a day of freedom.
Being a mother of the little girl with hair like strawberries,
And the eight year old sweet boy, with a face full of freckles,
And getting to hold them on your white little porch as you watch the sunset,
enjoying the summer day of being a mom; an American.
There’s nothing that says heaven like a day of freedom,
Especially when you see the view to your own backyard.
Baseball cap, and scuffed up jeans, crooked teeth, and freckles;
Your baby girl has come home from a day of play, with hair the colour of a sunset.
You just have to laugh at the little girl growing up to be “All-American.”
Because nothing says heaven like a day of freedom.
She still has stains on her cheeks from the Popsicle she enjoyed earlier in the backyard.
The flavour of strawberries.
At night, your husband wraps his strong arms around you as you enjoy the sunset.
All your dreams come true, when you’re near your brave soldier who fights for dreams of America.
Really, nothing says Heaven like a day of freedom.
You realize this, as you set the pie on the picnic table in your backyard.
Clothes lines, wet dogs, fishing, pig tails, and Jam made with your home grown Strawberries;
Are the things that make you a beautiful American women; with a round waist, and a face of freckles.
It feels good to be an American girl.
Because I’ve learned nothing says Heaven, like a day of freedom.
To play in my backyard,
Eat big juicy strawberries,
Sneak out to kiss the boy with the cute freckles,
THIS is what makes a perfect All-American day, I decide as I watch it pass by with the glowing sunset.
