Heartwarming Stories~

violet

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Heartwarming Stories~

  • Think of Me
He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small Midwestern community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac, but he never quit looking. Ever since the factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home. It was a lonely road. Not many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill, but he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and knew the country. He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, that came in handy. It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her. Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help her for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill that only fear can put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Joe." Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Joe crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire, but he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening the lug nuts, she rolled down her window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Joe just smiled as he closed her trunk. She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Joe never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. There was someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Joe added "...think of me." He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed home, disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the road the lady saw a cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor - it didn't ring much. Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Joe. After the lady had finished her meal, and the waitress went to get her change from a hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote. It said: "You don't owe me a thing,
I've been there too.
Someone once helped me out,
the way I'm helping you.
If you really want to pay me back,
here's what you do...
Don't let the love end with you."
Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could she have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's gonna be all right; I love you, Joe."
 
Oh.... What an ending.... wow.... that is so beautiful Violet . What a wonderful story.:crying_anim::crying_anim::crying_anim:

You should have called it tear jerking story.
 
"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 MATTERS IN THIS LIFE...


A few years ago at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all
physically or mentally disabled, assembled at the starting line for the
100-yard dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a
dash, but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win. All,
that is, except one boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a
couple of times and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry.
They slowed down and looked back. They all turned around and went back.
Every one of them. One girl with Down's Syndrome bent down and kissed
him and said, "This will make it better." All nine linked arms and
walked across the finish line together.


Everyone in the stadium stood, and the cheering went on for several
minutes. People who were there are still telling the story. Why?


Because deep down we know this one thing:


What matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What
truly matters in this life is helping others in their race, even if it
means slowing down and changing our course.
 
ICE CREAM IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL


Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son
asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God
is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if mom
gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty and justice for all! Amen!"

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby I heard a
woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know
how to pray. Asking God for ice-cream! Why, I never!"

Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it
wrong? Is God mad at me?"

As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and
God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He
winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a
great prayer."

"Really?" my son asked. "Cross my heart." Then in a theatrical
whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing),
"Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for
the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son
stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest
of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word walked over and
placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this
is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my soul is good
already."
 
True Love!
Giving Blood

A misunderstanding proves such true Love~
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 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?"

 
[FONT=Book Antiqua, Times New Roman, Times]Chad
Little Chad was a shy, quiet young fellow. One day, he came home and told his mother that he would like to make a valentine for everyone in his class. Her heart sank. She thought, "I wish he wouldn't do that!" because she had watched the children when they walked home from school. Her Chad was always behind them. They laughed and hung on to each other and talked to each other
But Chad was never included. Nevertheless, she decided she would go along with her son. So she purchased the paper and glue and crayons. For three whole weeks, night after night, Chad painstakingly made thirty-five valentines.
Valentine's Day dawned, and Chad was beside himself with excitement! He carefully stacked them up, put them in a bag and bolted out the door. His mom decided to bake him his favorite cookies and serve them up warm and nice with a cool glass of milk when he came home from school. She just knew he would be disappointed. Maybe that would ease the pain a little. It hurt her to think that he wouldn't get many valentines... maybe none at all.
That afternoon, she had the cookies and milk on the table. When she heard the children outside, she looked out the window. Sure enough, here they came, laughing and having the best time.
And, as always, there was Chad in the rear. He walked a little faster than usual.
She fully expected him to burst into tears as soon as he got inside. His arms were empty, she noticed, and when the door opened, she choked back tears.
"Mommy has some warm cookies and milk for you." But he hardly heard her words. He just marched right on by, his face aglow, and all he could say was :
"Not a one. Not a one." Her heart sank. And then he added, "I didn't forget a one, not a single one!"
-Gayle D. Erwin
[/FONT]​
 
Violet Bless you my dear ..... I love all those stories especially the little boy with the ice cream..... so precious. Good you have started this thread.... Now I will have to dig up some of the stories I have saved on my computer. Now if I can only find them..... LOL... always looking for things , Violet..... That's the senior's moments again.:eek::eek::eek:..... Ha Ha :D:D:D But that will never disable me. Love you Violet.
 
Sister,
You're only a senior in numbers, not heart and mind!!!

I don't think you are old enough to be my mother!


 
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 maybe he was adopted. A little girl named Jocelynn Jay said, "I know all about adoption because I was adopted." "What does it mean to be adopted?" asked another child. "It means that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy." said Jocelynn.
 
This is GOOD!

Judging Books by their Covers

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly without an appointment into the president of Harvard University's outer office. The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had no business at Harvard and probably didn't even deserve to be in Cambridge. She frowned.

"We want to see the president", the man said softly.
"He'll be busy all day," the secretary snapped.
"We'll wait," the lady replied.
For hours, the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally become discouraged and go away. They didn't. And the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she always regretted to do. "Maybe if they just see you for a few minutes, they'll leave," she told him. And he sighed in exasperation and >nodded. Someone of his importance obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, but he detested ginghamdresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office.
The president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple. The lady told him, "We had a son that attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. And my husband and I would like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere on campus".
The president wasn't touched - he was shocked. "Madam," he said gruffy, "We can't put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery".
"Oh, no," the lady explained quickly, "We don't want to erect a statue. We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard."
The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the physical plant at Harvard".
For a moment the lady was silent. The president was pleased. He could get rid of them now.
And the lady turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it costs to start a University? Why don't we just start our own?" Her husband nodded. The president's face wilted in confusion and bewilderment. And Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away, traveling to Palo Alto, California where they established the University that bears their name, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.
 
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 maybe he was adopted. A little girl named Jocelynn Jay said, "I know all about adoption because I was adopted." "What does it mean to be adopted?" asked another child. "It means that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy." said Jocelynn.


Awww...... that's so cute .... Love it.
 
Nah.... I don't believe it Violet.... you look so young.

It was so funny on Sat. evening cause we had our 55+ meeting ( we don't like to call it seniors ) and we had " I remember when " and when I got up to tell about the milkman with the cart and horse, the breadman and the ice truck truck that delivered the big blocks of ice for the ice box after when I sat down ., I was thinking wow .... I am really old. LOL
 
Judging Books by their Covers

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly without an appointment into the president of Harvard University's outer office. The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had no business at Harvard and probably didn't even deserve to be in Cambridge. She frowned.

"We want to see the president", the man said softly.
"He'll be busy all day," the secretary snapped.
"We'll wait," the lady replied.
For hours, the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally become discouraged and go away. They didn't. And the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she always regretted to do. "Maybe if they just see you for a few minutes, they'll leave," she told him. And he sighed in exasperation and >nodded. Someone of his importance obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, but he detested ginghamdresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office.
The president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple. The lady told him, "We had a son that attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. And my husband and I would like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere on campus".
The president wasn't touched - he was shocked. "Madam," he said gruffy, "We can't put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery".
"Oh, no," the lady explained quickly, "We don't want to erect a statue. We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard."
The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the physical plant at Harvard".
For a moment the lady was silent. The president was pleased. He could get rid of them now.
And the lady turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it costs to start a University? Why don't we just start our own?" Her husband nodded. The president's face wilted in confusion and bewilderment. And Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away, traveling to Palo Alto, California where they established the University that bears their name, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.

Kimmie, is this a true story? Because it's unbelievable! I absolutely love it!!

Laura:)
 
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 maybe he was adopted. A little girl named Jocelynn Jay said, "I know all about adoption because I was adopted." "What does it mean to be adopted?" asked another child. "It means that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy." said Jocelynn.

This I know, first hand!:D
 
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