Coffee On The Wall

I sat with my good friend within a well-known coffee shop in a neighboring area of Venice, Italy, typically the city of lights in addition to water.

As we liked our coffee, a person entered and sat from an empty table alongside us. He called the waiter and placed his order saying, “Two cups of coffee, one of them there on the wall.”

We all heard this order together with rather interest and seen that he was dished up with one cup of joe nevertheless he paid for a couple of.

When he left, typically the waiter put a part of paper on typically the wall saying “A cup of Coffee”.

While we all were still there, a couple of other men entered in and ordered three cups coffee, two on typically the table and another on the wall. They had 2 cups of coffee nevertheless paid for three. This time likewise, the waiter did a similar; he put a part of paper within the wall structure saying, “A Cup of Coffee”.

It was something unique and perplexing for us. We finished our coffee, paid the bill and left.

After some days, we had the opportunity to go to that coffe shop again. While we all were enjoying our coffe,a man poorly dressed up entered. As he sitting down himself, he looked from the wall and mentioned, “One cup of coffe from the wall. ”

The cashier served coffee to the person with the customary value and dignity. The person had his coffee and left without paying.

We were amazed to watch all this, as the waiter took off a piece of paper from the wall and threw it in the trash bin

Today it was not surprising regarding us – the whole matter was now very clear. The great respect for the needy shown by the inhabitants of this town made our eyes well up in tears.

Ponder upon the need of what this man wanted. He enters the coffee shop without having to lower his self-esteem… he has no need to ask for a free cup of coffee… without asking or knowing about the one who is giving this cup of coffee to him… he only looked at the wall, placed an order for himself, enjoyed his coffee and left.

A truly beautiful thought. Probably the most beautiful wall you may ever see anywhere!

Cast Your Bread Upon The Waters – WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

The homeless man slowly looked up. This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new. She looked like she had never missed a meal in her life. His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before.

"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the president. Now go away."

The woman's smile became even broader.

"Leave me alone," he growled.

To his amazement, the woman continued standing. She was smiling – her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm. "What are you doing, lady?" the man asked angrily. "I said to leave me alone."

Just then a policeman came up. "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked.

"No problem here, officer," the woman answered. "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet. Will you help me?"

The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?" 

"See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."

"Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted. "I don't want to go in there!" 

Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up. "Let me go, officer. I didn't do anything.."

"This is a good deal for you, Jack," the officer answered. "Don't blow it."

Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner. It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived.

The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by his table. "What's going on here, officer?" he asked. "What is all this, is this man in trouble?" 

"This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.

"Not in here!" the manager replied angrily. "Having a person like that here is bad for business."

Old Jack smiled a toothless grin. "See, lady. I told you so. Now if you'll let me go. I didn't want to come here in the first place."

The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled. "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"

"Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently. "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."

"And do you make a goodly amount of money providing food at these weekly meetings?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, President and CEO of the company."

The manager  was shocked, "Oh..." 

The woman smiled again, "I thought that might make a difference."

She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a laugh. "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"

"No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied. "I'm on duty."

"Then perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"

"Yes, ma'am. That would be very nice." 

The cafeteria manager turned on his heel. "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."

The officer watched him walk away. "You certainly put him in his place," he said.

"That was not my intent... Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this."

She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest. She stared at him intently. "Jack, do you remember me?"

Old Jack searched her face with his old, rheumy eyes. "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar."

"I'm a little older perhaps," she said. "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."

"Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly. He couldn't believe that such a magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry. 

"I was just out of college," the woman began. "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything. Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment. I walked the streets for days. It was February and I was cold and nearly starving. I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."

Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said. "I was behind the serving counter. You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat. I said that it was against company policy."

"I know," the woman continued. "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it. I was afraid that you would get into trouble. Then, when I looked over and saw you put the price of my food in the cash register. I knew then that everything would be all right."

"So you started your own business?" Old Jack said.

"I got a job that very afternoon. I worked my way up. Eventually I started my own business that, with the help of God, prospered."

She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons. He's the personnel director of my company. I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office." She smiled. "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you."

There were tears in the old man's eyes. "How can I ever thank you?" he asked.

"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. He led me to you."

Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways.

"Thank you for all your help, officer," she said.

"On the contrary, Ms. Eddy," he answered. "Thank you. I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget. And ... And thank you for the coffee."

The Roman Soldier's Cloak

 

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'" 

(Matthew 25:37-40)

Dan Vellinga talks about a true soldier of the cross, Martin of Tours. "He was a Roman soldier and a Christian. One cold winter day, as he was entering a city, a beggar stopped him and asked for alms. Martin had no money; but the beggar was blue and shivering with cold and Martin gave what he had. He took off his soldier's coat, worn and frayed as it was; he cut it in two and gave half of it to the beggar man. That night he had a dream. In it he saw the heavenly places and all the angels and Jesus in the midst of them; and Jesus was wearing half of a Roman soldier's cloak. One of the angels said to him, 'Master, why are you wearing that battered old cloak? Who gave it to you?' And Jesus answered softly, 'My servant Martin gave it to me.'"1

Reminder: "Only one life, 'twill soon be past. Only what's done for Christ will last."

 

1 Dan Vellinga, "What Would You Do?"  

 

Story by Dick Innes

Sowing Seeds of Kindness

Your words and actions are like seeds that will become a harvest. 

When you sow the seeds of kindness, love and blessings into the life of a person in trouble, you inevitably will reap a rich harvest of peace, joy and blessings from the Lord. 

Your sowing always unlocks God's sowing back into your life.

Rev Albert Kang

Sower of Good Seeds

The sower sows the word. Mark 4: 14

God gives us many opportunities to be sowers of good seeds. 

Whatever good seeds that we sow will create a fresh season for another person. 

When we sow prayers, someone's situation is changed. 

When we sow faith, someone is healed. 

When we sow kindness, someone's life is transformed. 

When we sow finance, someone's bondage is broken. 

When we sow the Gospel, someone is saved. 

Be a sower of good seeds and watch the harvest multiplies in God's kingdom.

Rev Albert Kang

A Barrel For Fifty Cents

On the front porch of his little country store in Illinois, a small businessman stood with his partner. Business was all gone, and the partner asked, "How much longer can we keep this going?"

The owner answered, "It looks as if our business has just about winked out." Then he continued, "You know, I wouldn’t mind so much if I could just do what I want to do. I want to study law. I wouldn’t mind so much if we could sell everything we’ve got and pay all our bills and have just enough left over to buy one book--Blackstone’s Commentary on English Law, but I guess I can’t."

At that moment a strange-looking wagon came up the road. The driver drove it up close to the store porch, then looked at the owner and said, "I’m trying to move my family out west, and I’m out of money. I’ve got a good barrel here that I could sell for fifty cents."

The businessman’s eyes went along the wagon and came to the wife looking at him pleadingly, her face thin and emaciated. He slipped his hand into his pocket and took out, according to him, "the last fifty cents I had" and said, "I reckon I could use a good barrel."

All day long the barrel sat on the porch of that store. The partner kept chiding the owner about it. Late in the evening the businessman walked out and looked down into the barrel. He saw something in the bottom of it, papers that he hadn’t noticed before. His long arms went down into the barrel and, as he fumbled around, he hit something solid. He pulled out a book and stood dumbfounded: it was Blackstone’s Commentary on English Law.

That businessman was Abraham Lincoln. Chance or Providence?

The Prositutes and Their Children

The locals had gathered to protest and to threaten to demolish an old and dirty building that housed hundreds of prostitutes and their illegitimate children, a place they regarded as a great shame to the town. But they were in for a greater shame!

A few of the prostitutes stepped forward, pointed to the many fatherless and pitiful children and uttered these few but pungent words:

"Look at these children! Their fathers could be standing among you all now!"

The above incident sounds like a good example in our modern society of the story of the woman caught in adultery but who was rescued and forgiven of her sin by Jesus Christ. (John 8:1-11)

What is more important is not the outcome of the incident but the moral lessons it embodies. We are to be compassionate, merciful and forgiving when judging or punishing those regarded as wrong doers, being mindful that we are also fallible human beings.

Crimson Woo

BURNT BISCUITS

When I was a little child, my mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. And I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work. 

On that evening so long ago, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that biscuit and eat every bite!

When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits. And I'll never forget what he said: "Baby, I love burned biscuits."

Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your Momma put in a hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides - a little burned biscuit never hurt anyone!"

You know, life is full of imperfect things.....and imperfect people. I'm not the best housekeeper or cook.. What I've learned over the years is that learning to accept each other's faults - and choosing to celebrate each other differences - is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship.

So, please, pass a biscuit, and, yes, the burnt one will do just fine! Life is too short to wake up with regrets. Love the people who treat you right and forgive those who don't. 

APPRECIATE THOSE LOVED ONES WHOM GOD GIVES YOU... THEY DO NOT LIVE FOREVER AND NEITHER DO YOU!

A Glass of Milk

One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door.

Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it so slowly, and then asked, How much do I owe you?"

You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness."

He said ... "Then I thank you from my heart."

As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.

Many year's later that same young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease.

Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes.

Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.

Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once.

He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to her case.

After a long struggle, the battle was won.

Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She read these words ...

"Paid in full with one glass of milk"

(Signed) Dr. Howard Kelly.

Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart prayed: "Thank You, God, that Your love has spread broad through human hearts and hands."

Origins:   The above-quoted account has been showing up in the snopes.com inbox since 2000. It has appeared in any number of collections of inspirational tales and self-help books, including Ruth Fishel's 2004 Living Light as a Feather: How to Find Joy in Every Day and a Purpose in Every Problem, Viola Walden's 1994 Pardon the Mess: A Collection of Family-Building Thoughts, Benjamin Blech's 2003 Taking Stock: A Spiritual Guide to Rising Above Life's Financial Ups and Downs, and John Mark Templeton's 2002 Wisdom From World Religions: Pathways Towards Heaven on Earth.

It is a well-traveled and much beloved tale. And yet, while at its heart it is a true story, it has been so greatly exaggerated that it is now only a caricature of itself, having been distorted in numerous ways to better tell the story of a doctor who wouldn't accept a fee for his services from a gal who once gave him a glass of

milk.

Dr. Howard Kelly (1858-1943) was a distinguished physician who was one of the four founding doctors of Johns Hopkins, the first medical research university in the U.S. and arguably one of the finest hospitals anywhere. In 1895 he established the department of Gynecology and Obstetrics at that school. Over the course of his career, he advanced the sciences of gynecology and surgery, both as a teacher and as a practitioner.

It is not his skills as a healer or accomplishments as a medical pioneer that concern us in this tale, though, but rather the account of a years-previous kindness repaid.

According to the biography written by Audrey Davis from knowledge she gained of the doctor through her 20-year friendship with him and through the notebooks and journals he left her upon his death (Dr. Kelly began keeping a diary at the age of 17 while in his junior year of college), the story of the bill paid in full by the glass of milk is true:

On a walking trip up through Northern Pennsylvania one spring, Kelly stopped by a small farm house for a drink of cool spring water. A little girl answered his knock and instead of water brought him a glass of fresh milk. After a short friendly visit, he went on his way. Some years later, that same little girl came to him for an operation. Just before she left for home, her bill was brought into the room and across its face was written in a bold hand, "Paid in full with one glass of milk."

However, it should be noted that while the story itself is true, it has been greatly embellished to make it a more touching tale. Dr. Kelly was never an impoverished student who ruefully eyed his last dime as hunger set in and he resolved to beg a meal at the next farm house. He was the scion of a relatively well-to-do family, and he did not have to work to put himself through school, let alone by peddling goods door to door. Over and above his education and living expenses, the young scholar received from his family a monthly allowance of $5 for pocket money, his biographer noting of his bank account in those days: "It is amazing how many items of necessity and pleasure those $5 deposits accounted for, and yet there was always an unexpended balance." On his 21st birthday, the future doctor received "checks for $100 from his father and from several aunts," which would have been considered astronomical sums in those days (1879).

The young man did not hold a job, in fact, until the age of 22 — upon being sent to Colorado Springs for his health (he stayed there for a year) and purchasing a horse for $40, he carried the mail for a week to relieve the regular mailman.

The future Dr. Kelly came to be tramping about the farmland and woods of Pennsylvania and put himself at that farm house door through his love of nature. His special joy was to hike great distances and study animals in the wild, and indeed he had been headed for a career as a naturalist until his father insisted during his final year of college (1877) that he "divert his talents into a field that offered greater certainty of a livelihood and promised fair financial return." Dr. Kelly did retain his interest in the natural world throughout his life, though, and so he continued to go on such walking trips.

On the day described in the "milk" anecdote, he hadn't been "ready to give up and quit," nor had he been experiencing a spiritual crisis that caused him to doubt the nature of man or God. Throughout his life Howard Kelly was a devout Christian whose faith was as natural to him as breathing. He was neither financially nor spiritually beaten down that day; he was merely a thirsty hiker who thought to ask for a glass of water at a farm he passed.

The Davis biography of Dr. Kelly contains no mention of the "glass of milk" girl's being "critically ill," of her local doctors being "baffled," or of her being sent to Baltimore because she had fallen victim to a "rare disease," as the much-embroidered version of the tale would have it. Indeed, nothing is said of her case to indicate that it was at all unusual, or that her life was in any way in jeopardy. Other than for Dr. Kelly's writing off her bill for that long-ago glass of milk, her case was not remarkable in the least.

As regards his writing off that bill, while Dr. Kelly did charge very high fees for his work (and "suffered extreme criticism" for it, says his biographer), he did so only with patients who could afford it, their payments underwriting the medical care he provided free-of-charge to the less fortunate. By his conservative estimate, in 75% of his cases he neither sought nor received a fee. Moreover, for years he paid the salary of a nurse to visit and care for those of his patients who could not otherwise afford such treatment, thereby providing them with both doctor and nurse without charge.

So, to sum up:

    Howard Kelly wasn't a destitute young scholar peddling goods door to door in furtherance of his dream of someday becoming a doctor and so was rescued from overwhelming hunger by a fortuitous glass of milk. He was a thirsty hiker out on one of his many rambles about the countryside to study wildlife. He asked for water at a farm house and was instead given milk.

    The girl who gave the milk to him later came to him as a patient, but likely not because she was dying or because her condition was unusual.

    Dr. Kelly wrote off her bill, but he did so with three of every four patients he treated.

Get Along Better

Proven ways to get along better with EVERYONE:

1. Before you say anything to anyone, ask yourself 3 things:

- Is it true?
- Is it kind?
- Is it necessary?

2. Make promises sparingly and keep them faithfully.

3. Never miss the opportunity to compliment or say something encouraging to someone.

4. Refuse to talk negatively about others; don't gossip and don't listen to gossip.

5. Have a forgiving view of people. Believe that most people are doing the best they can.

6. Keep an open mind; discuss, but don't argue. (It is possible to disagree without being disagreeable.)

7. Forget about counting to 10. Count to 1,000 before doing or saying anything that could make matters worse.

8. Let your virtues speak for themselves.

9. If someone criticizes you, see if there is any TRUTH to what he is saying; if so, make changes. If there is no truth to the criticism, ignore it and live so that no one will believe the negative remark.

10. Cultivate your sense of humor; laughter is the shortest distance between two people.

11. Do not seek so much to be consoled, as to console; do not seek so much to be understood, as to understand; do not seek so much to be loved as to love.

The Kind Clerk

One stormy night many years ago, an elderly man and his wife entered the lobby of a small hotel in Philadelphia. Trying to get out of the rain, the couple approached the front desk hoping to get some shelter for the night.

"Could you possibly give us a room here?" the husband asked. The clerk, a friendly man with a winning smile, looked at the couple and explained that there were three conventions in town.

"All of our rooms are taken," the clerk said. "But I can't send a nice couple like you out into the rain at one o'clock in the morning. Would you perhaps be willing to sleep in my room? It's not exactly a suite, but it will be good enough to make you folks comfortable for the night."

When the couple declined, the young man pressed on. "Don't worry about me; I'll be just fine here in the office," the clerk told them. So the couple agreed.

As he paid his bill the next morning, the elderly man said to the clerk, "You are the kind of manager who should be the boss of the best hotel in the United States. Maybe someday I'll build one for you."

The clerk looked at them and smiled. The three of them had a good laugh.

As they drove away, the elderly couple agreed that the helpful clerk was indeed exceptional, as finding people who are both friendly and helpful isn't easy.

Two years passed. The clerk had almost forgotten the incident when he received a letter from the old man.
It recalled that stormy night and enclosed a round-trip ticket to New York, asking the him to pay them a visit.

The old man met him in New York, and led him to the corner of Fifth Avenue and 34th Street. He then pointed to a great new building there, a palace of reddish stone, with turrets and watchtowers thrusting up to the sky.

"That," said the older man, "is the hotel I have just built for you to manage."

"You must be joking," the young man said.

"I can assure you I am not," said the older man, a sly smile playing around his mouth.

The older man's name was William Waldorf Astor, and the magnificent structure was the original Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

The young clerk who became its first manager was George C. Boldt. This young clerk never foresaw the turn of events that would lead him to become the manager of one of the world's most glamorous hotels.

"We are not to turn our backs on those who are in need, for we might be entertaining angels".

Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than the things you acquire.

Story recommended by Pastor Betty Wong
It is not what we take up or what we receive that makes us rich but what we give up that makes our lives much more fulfilling, purposeful, and meaningful. The lives we touch go beyond measure. It is more rewarding to give than to receive.
Pastor Betty Wong
Malaysia

Which Wolf Would You Feed?

An old Cherokee chief is teaching his grandson about life: 

"A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy. "It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.

"One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego."

"The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith."

"This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old chief simply replied, "The one you feed."

Are you feeding on the Word of God today? Only God's Word can transform you and build that faith life within you. 

Insulting The Giver

To seek to earn, merit, or purchase salvation is to insult the Giver. 

President Obama speaks at National Prayer Breakfast in 2009

Imagine yourself invited to a banquet in the White House by the president of the United States. 

You are seated at a table that is filled with the choice foods. Every effort is made to give you a most enjoyable evening. At the end of a lovely visit, the president stands at the door to bid you good-bye. 

What do you do? 

As you leave do you press a dime into his hand and say, “Thank you very much for your kindness. I realize it has cost you a lot of money, and I want to help you pay for the meal.” 

Is that the proper response to his kindness? 

On the contrary, it would be a very rude and insulting gesture. 

So it would be with God’s grace. 

(William MacDonald, The Grace of God - Swindoll’s Book of Illustrations, p. 250.)

God’s Unmerited Favor

When a person works an eight-hour day and receives a fair day’s pay for his time, that is wage. 

When a person competes with an opponent and receives a trophy for his performance, that is a prize. 

When a person receives appropriate recognition for his long service or high achievements, that is an award. 

But when a person is not capable of earning a wage, can win no prize, and deserves no award-yet receives such a gift anyway-that is a good picture of God’s unmerited favor. This is what we mean when we talk about the grace of God. 

Clip-Art Features for Newsletters, G.W. Knight, p. 53

Persevere!

A young pastor was sitting in a restaurant eating lunch. He opened a letter from his mother he just got that morning. As he opened it a twenty dollar bill fell out. He thought: "Thanks, mom, I could use that right about now."

As he finished his meal he noticed a beggar outside on the sidewalk leaning against the light post. He thought: "That fella could probably use the $20 more than I."

So he crossed out the names on the envelope and put the $20 in the envelope and wrote across the top in large letters. "PERSEVERE!" So as not to make a scene, he put the envelope under his arm and dropped it as he walked past the man. 

The man picked it up and read the message and smiled. The next day, while the pastor was eating his lunch, the same man tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a big wad of bills. 

Surprised the young pastor asked him what that was for? The man replied, this is your half of the winnings. "PERSEVERE" came in first in the fourth race at the track yesterday, and he paid 30 to 1.

Do People Mistaken You To Be Jesus?

A few years ago a group of salesmen went to a regional sales convention in Chicago. They had assured their wives that they would be home in plenty of time for Friday night's dinner. In their rush, with tickets and briefcases, one of these salesmen inadvertently kicked over a table that held a display of apples. Apples flew everywhere. Without stopping or looking back, they all managed to reach the plane in time for their nearly missed boarding.

All but one. He paused, took a deep breath, got in touch with his feelings, and experienced a twinge of compassion for the girl whose apple stand had been overturned. He told his buddies to go on without him, waved goodbye, told one of them to call his wife when they arrived at their home destination and explain his taking a later flight. Then he returned to the terminal where the apples were all over the terminal floor. He was glad he did.

The 16-year-old girl was totally blind! She was softly crying, tears running down her cheeks in frustration, and at the same time helplessly groping for her spilled produce as the crowd swirled about her, no one stopping and no one to care for her plight.

The salesman knelt on the floor with her, gathered up the applies, put them back on the table and helped organize her display. As he did this, he noticed that many of them had become battered and bruised; these he set aside in another basket. When he had finished, he pulled out his wallet and said to the girl, "Here, please take this $40 for the damage we did. Are you okay?" She nodded through her tears.

He continued on with, "I hope we didn't spoil your day too badly."

As the salesman started to walk away, the bewildered blind girl called out to him, "Mister..." He paused and turned to look back into those blind eyes. She continued, "Are you Jesus?" He stopped in mid-stride, and he wondered. Then slowly he made his way to catch the later flight with that question burning and bouncing about in his soul: "Are you Jesus?"

Do people mistake you for Jesus? Isn't that what a Christian's goal should be? To be so much like Jesus that people cannot tell the difference as we live and interact with a world (shopping, working, reacting to others that are serving us) that is blind to His love, life and grace. If we claim to know Him, we should live, walk and act as He would. Knowing Him is more than simply quoting Scripture and going to church. It's actually living the Word as life unfolds day to day.

You are the apple of His eye even though we, too, have been bruised by a fall. He stopped what He was doing and picked you and me up on a hill called Calvary and paid in full for our damaged fruit. Let us live like we are worth the price He paid.

The Red Marble

Read this story. If you are like me, you will learn much from Mr. Miller.

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.

'Hello Barry, how are you today?'

'H'lo , Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good.'

'They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?'

'Fine.. Gittin' stronger alla' time.'

'Good. Anything I can help you with?'

'No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas.'

'Would you like to take some home ?' asked Mr. Miller.

'No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with.'

'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?'

'All I got's my prize marble here.'

'Is that right? Let me see it' said Mr. Miller.

'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.'

'I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red.

Do you have a red one like this at home ?' the store owner asked.

'Not zackley but almost.'

'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.

'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.. With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.'

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man.

A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died.

They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts . . . all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket.

Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her, and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one; each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size.....they came to pay their debt.'

'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho.'

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral of this story: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.

Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. May the Lord bless you as you live a life full of kind deeds.

    "...love one another; as I have loved you.... By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another."    John 13:34-35

Carl The Quiet Man

Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.

Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in World War II. Watching him, we worried that although he had survived the war, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.

When he saw the flier at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.

He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?" The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile. As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.

Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him. Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet. Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head.

"Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.

Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"

"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply.

Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.

A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.

Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering. The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him.

He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.

"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.

"What's this?" Carl asked.

"It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet."

"I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"

The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.

He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.

The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."

The following spring another flier went up. It read: "Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flier went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flier. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.

The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."

The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.

One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."

"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?"

"Carl," he replied.

That's the whole gospel message simply stated.

Loving Your Neighbor

In his book Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis wrote, "Do not waste your time bothering whether you 'love' your neighbor act as if you did. As soon as we do this, we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him. If you injure someone you dislike, you will find yourself disliking him more. If you do him a good turn, you will find yourself disliking him less."

Forgiveness And Kindness

A gentleman saw a boy thief in his flower garden. He went forth quietly in a roundabout way to meet the boy and, coming up behind him, laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, saying: "Now, my boy, answer me one question: Which is the best flower in my garden?" 

The boy, finding no escape, looked around and after a few minutes' pause, said, "That rose is best," as he pointed to a beautiful moss rose. 

The gentleman, still keeping one hand on the boy's shoulder, reached out his other hand and, plucking the rose in all its beauty, gave it to the boy. As he released him he said, "There, take it, my boy." The boy was amazed. 

Looking into the face of his strange benefactor, he said, "Ain't you going to have me punished, sir?" 

"No," was the reply; "but as I am going to give you the best flower in my garden, you will never steal from my flower beds again, will you?" 

"Never, sir, as long as I live," was the emphatic reply; "but, please, sir, ain't there some little errand I can do for you?"

Free forgiveness and a token of love had won the hardened boy's heart, and from that hour he was the willing servant of his friend. 

Christian Herald London