27598
Everything about life in the USA 🇺🇸 Buy ads: https://telega.io/c/american @Source_Ads ↪️ Feedback : @cobbl
Chopping Woods ...
When I was growing up my Dad would often give me chores to do to help out around the house. Some were easy but the three I remember the most were the three toughest of all. The first was helping to weed the several gardens we had. It was tedious work and we had gardeners, but Dad wanted me to chip in and help. I would much rather have been riding my bike than crawling in the dirt on my hands and knees pulling the thousands of weeds that choked our gardens.
The second was stacking firewood for Winter. It was tough work and I got more than my share of splinters. I would much rather have been walking in the woods than stacking it in rows.
The third was hauling water from a mountain spring passing through our house, because the water was almost sweet and our neighbors even came to fetch water from our spring. It was a hard job carrying five gallon jugs. I would much rather have been playing basketball than carrying them.
Over the years, though, I learned to see the rewards in all the things Dad made me do. Having fresh vegetables for dinner was a delicious delight. Enjoying a cold glass of iced tea made from the mountain spring water was a pure pleasure. Standing by the wood stove on a snowy December day was a wonderful way to warm up. I saw as well that all this work Dad had given me had gradually made me a better, stronger, and more caring person. Most of all, I realized that when I did my work with a happy heart it didn't feel like work at all.
Over the years I have learned something else too. When we do the work of our Heavenly Father with a loving spirit it doesn't feel like work either. It feels like joy. Every act of kindness, word of encouragement, and gift of love we share will only make our lives better, make our hearts happier, and bring our souls closer to Heaven.
I am so grateful then to both my Dad and my Father in Heaven. They showed me the value of work and more importantly they showed me the pricelessness of love.
@american
A Christmas Miracle of Hope...
Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at the McAllister Mall in Saint John . The child climbed up on his lap, holding a picture of a little girl.
Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend?
"Yes, Santa,' he replied."My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly.
Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!" the child exclaimed. "She misses you," he added softly.
Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas.
When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but halted.
"What is it?" Santa asked warmly.
"Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa, but.." the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors.
"The girl in the photograph... my granddaughter well, you see ... she has leukemia and isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she said through tear-filled eyes. "Is there any way, Santa, any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa."
Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in that hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart, "This is the least I can do."
When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant location manager how to get to the Hospital.
"Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day.
"C' mon .....I'll take you there." Rick said softly. Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa.
They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said, he would wait out in the hall.
Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah in the bed.
The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's brother he had met earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And another woman who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with a weary sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah.
Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, "Ho, Ho, Ho!"
"Santa!" shrieked little Sarah, weakly as she tried to escape her bed to run to him IV tubes intact.
Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug.
A child the tender age of his own son (9), gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But, all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of, huge blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room.
As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "Thank you" as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes. Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year.
A Christmas Miracle Continued...
@american
Happy Nowruz!
Come, fill the Cup in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly— Lo! the Bird is on the Wing
Omar Khayyam
@american
What's your religion? Mine is love
I don't like getting pushed around for being a Catholic, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat...
Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to.
In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking. In light of recent events... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school... The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.
Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about.. And we said okay..
Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.
Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'
Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says. Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.
Are you laughing yet?
Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.
Talk about this, if you think it has merit. If not, then just discard it... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in.
@american
Moonpie
Over the last few months I have once again been reminded of two things: God has a sense of humor and God knows how to heal a hurting heart. It all started a few weeks after the death of our beloved dog. At the time I was in mourning and had no intention of adding yet another pet to a house still crowded with 1 dog, 1 cat, and a turtle with a bad attitude. Little was I to know, however, that God had other plans. That very day my cousin came home from her walk carrying a small, sad-eyed bag of bones in her arms. She had rescued the poor, limping puppy after it had almost gotten hit by a car.
I knew that I would have to take this little dog into my home at least while we looked for her owners. I was worried too that she might not be easily accepted by our other dog and cat and the turtle. Instead she quickly and happily took over the entire house. With a curious combination of cuteness and rambunctiousness she made us all laugh and love her at the same time. Her leg quickly healed. She put on weight and soaked up the love and attention we gave her like a sponge. Soon she was sharing my bed, bringing out the playful puppy in our older dog, chewing on my shoes, and touching my soul as well. She showed me something we all should know: the best way to heal is to open your heart and love again.
No one ever claimed this 4 legged angel so she joyfully made her home in our house and in our hearts. We named her "Moonpie" because she was as sweet as the dessert. She was also ornery, full of energy, and more than a handful at times. Still, I thank God for bringing her into our lives. He knew just what we needed and just when we needed it. Thanks to little "Moony" our hearts have been healed and our days are even more full of love. And I am sure too that when we laugh at her antics, God and the angels are laughing with us.
@american
@american
On your travels through this world remember that you never walk alone.
@american
Humility and the Hitchhiker!
I never pick up hitch-hikers as a rule. I don't know what moved me to do so today. I was heading from North 5 to Valencia and he was just outside of North 5 Freeway. He jumped in and said "thanks for stopping".
As we were conversing, I noticed he reeked of booze. I also noticed his wrinkled, sun darkened face, his shoddy hair and clothes, unshaven face, and only the clothes on his back.
But what I noticed most was his piercing, large blue eyes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and I believe it, if you look closely, you can pretty much tell the kind of soul a person has through their eyes. His eyes were almost indescribable. They were so mesmerizing, not an ounce of hate in them. Looking at his very rough exterior, I could tell he'd been down a very hard road. Somehow, despite the road he had been down, there was no hate in his eyes...only love.
I recently had bought a pack of cigarettes wanting to see what they taste like, I asked him if he wanted a smoke, and he said yes, so I gave him my unopened pack, then I let him keep the whole pack, for which he seemed genuinely grateful for. I started asking him where he was from, where he was headed, does he have family, etc. He proceeded to tell me he had been on the road for 6 days, coming from Arizona where he had recently had a heart attack and heart surgery. He was pretty much healed up but couldn't find work. He had his bed roll and backpack stolen in Colorado. He was heading back to his birthplace of Kansas City, Mo. He said he lost his wife to a brain tumor 10 years ago, and she is buried in Norman, Oklahoma. He said he never had kids because his wife couldn't have any. He had no family aside from cousins, whom he'd lost, touch with over the years. We talked the rest of the way about politics, and other superficial stuff, all the while, my gut was telling me there was something about this guy that I couldn't put my finger on, but it was something special.
The whole time I was kind of reflecting on my own life. I mean, here is a homeless man that just had heart surgery, but was smoking and drinking.
So we get to Valencia and I say "well, this is the end of my line." He says, "I really appreciate the ride and the cigarettes." To which I replied, “no problem, when we stop, I'm going to give you some money too." (A decision I had subconsciously made miles back down the road.) He said thank you, I can get a cup of coffee or something.
I would like to clarify at this point, my whole reason for telling this story. It's not that I want a pat on the back...could care less about that. It's not that I felt sorry for the guy, although I definitely empathized with him. I have over the years, on many occasions given food and/or money to homeless people. Again, no pat on back wanted or needed. On many of those occasions, it was quite obvious that said homeless person was going to drink the money right up. The Bible says something to the effect of "give with your right hand, and don't tell your left hand." To me, that means don't gloat. It means do the right things for the right reasons without expecting anything in return. That is something my parents deserve credit for.
As I mentioned, I told him I was going to give him some money. I was thinking maybe $20 bucks. When I reached in my wallet, something compelled me to pull out a $50 dollar bill. I handed him the 50, and he looked at me with those piercing blue eyes surrounded by that weathered face with a look of astonishment that I can't describe, but I found myself fighting back tears. He was obviously both surprised and genuinely grateful. He struggled to say thank you, and he shook my hand. He got out of the vehicle and before he shut the door he looked at me with those eyes again, as if he was looking into MY soul, and said, " thanks again, you really don't know what this means to me." I said, “you have no idea what it means to me!"
Continued...
@american
Christmas Miracle continued...
As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands. Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels.
"Oh, yes, Santa... I do!" she exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going to ask angels watch over you." he said. Laying one hand on the child's head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that, God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease. He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing, softly, "Silent Night, Holy Night....all is calm, all is bright." The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all.
When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail, small hands in his own. "Now, Sarah," he said authoritatively, "you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my house at McAllister Mall this time next year!"
He knew it was risky proclaiming that to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he "had" to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE.
"Yes, Santa!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright.
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room.
Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed.
Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and rushed to Santa's side to thank him.
"My only child is the same age as Sarah," he explained quietly. "This is the least I could do." They nodded with understanding and hugged him.
One year later, Santa was again back on the set in Saint John for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap.
"Hi, Santa! Remember me?!"
"Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her. After all, the secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the "only" child in the world at that moment.
"You came to see me in the hospital last year!"
Santa's jaw dropped. Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before. He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.
That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus.
He had witnessed --and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of hope. This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, "Thank you, Father. 'Tis a very, Merry Christmas!
@american
Happy Nowroz from our House to Yours!
I remembered Christmas this morning. I guess bc of the Iranian NewYear. Nowroz like Christmas is a time of great faith, hope, and love. As you get older it is also a time of cherishing wonderful memories. This happened to me as I was sitting quietly listening to some Persian Songs one of my Admins has sent to me carols today. Although I didn't understand the lyrics, but I relaxed, closed my eyelids and felt my eyes tear up under them as I allowed the flood of childhood, Christmas memories to wash over me once again.
I remembered how we were a happy family by today's standards. We lived in my Grandparents' house that was a combination of two shanty cars and several huge rooms that my Dad later built on. Yet, we were so rich in all the important things in life.
I remembered getting up on a bitingly cold, December morning and watching my Dad build a fire in the fireplace and the stove. I remembered pulling on my winter coat and warming myself by the fire before heading outside with my Dad and cousins to chop down a Christmas tree. I remembered Dad letting me pick the scraggliest, ugliest looking tree over my cousins' objections and how the limbs could barely support the ornaments and lights when we decorated it.
I remembered watching my grandmother, "Nanny," slowly pulling her ancient Nativity scene out of a box and putting it under the tree with such reverence, gentleness, and tenderness.
I remembered too the kiss she gave the baby Jesus before placing him in the manger.
I remembered listening to my Mom sing along with the Christmas carols on the radio while she decorated the house. I also remembered the beautiful look of pure peace and happiness she would get on her face whenever she sang, "Silent Night."
I remembered the note my Mom and Dad wrote for Santa and put on our front door, because I was worried that he would skip our house while we were at midnight Mass. I remembered as well trying to stay awake for the whole midnight service at our Church, but falling asleep on my Mom's lap instead.
I remembered the German-American and some Iranian Christmas dinner where freshly baked bread was served along with the turkey, Pasta Fasul was served along with the mashed potatoes, and you could get Provolone cheese as well as pumpkin pie, and rice with some berries.
I remembered the eager anticipation of waiting to open my presents on Christmas morning. They were a lot in number and very expensive, and they always brought joy to my young girl's heart. I remembered playing with them too for months and sometimes years to come.
Most of all, though, I remembered the unwavering love in that house. It made everyday feel like Christmas. It was there in our hugs and smiles, laugher and tears, arguments and agreements, triumphs and tragedies. Even when that house burned down, the love remained. It gave me a hint of the Love that God has for us all. With it we felt like the wealthiest family in the whole world.
Nana has passed on to Heaven now, but the memories of my family's love at Christmastime and all through the year live on in my heart and mind.
It is like what the great author Leo Buscaglia once wrote: "Love never dies as long as there is someone who remembers." May your life be full of loving memories at This NewYear days, and always. And may you create new ones every single day. Have a very Happy, healthy and prosperous year.
I am sending Love from our house, to yours.
@american
@american
Encyclopedia Britannica
At Encyclopedia Britannica we don't just teach English, but a new life style&culture to fit U right with the natives. Enjoy your new U! We proudly make natives!
@e_britannica
A Teacher's Life Lessons Using A Jar And Some Golf Balls
This is a very important life lesson that a philosophy teacher taught his students.
The teacher cleared off his desk and placed on top of it a few items. One of the items was an empty mason jar. He proceeded to fill up the jar with golf balls until he could fit no more. He looked at the classroom and asked his students if they agree that the jar is full. Every student agreed that the jar was indeed full.
The teacher then picked up a box of small pebbles and poured them into the jar with the golf balls. The pebbles filled all of the openings in between the golf balls. He asked the students if the jar was full. Once again, they agreed.
Now the teacher picked up a bag of sand and poured it into the mason jar. The sand filled in all of the empty space left between the golf balls and pebbles. He asked the class again if the jar was full. The students agreed it was technically full.
Finally, the teacher pulled out two beers from under his desk and poured both of them into the jar filling the empty space between the sand. Now the students began to laugh wondering how far this was going.
The teacher waited until the laughter stopped. "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life," he started. "The golf balls represent the important things. Your family, children, health, friends, and passions. If everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles represent the other things in life that matter, such as your job, house and car. The sand---that is everything else. The small stuff. If you put the sand in first, there is no room for the pebbles or golf balls.
The same goes for life. If you spend all of your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are most important. Pay attention to the important things in your life.
Enjoy time with family. Go to dinner with your spouse. Play games with your kids. There will ALWAYS be time to clean the house or take yourself shopping.
Take care of the golf balls first---the things that really matter. The rest is just sand. You are dismissed."
Before the students left, one shouted out. "You never mentioned what the beer represents!"
The professor smiled and said, "Well I'm glad you asked. The beer just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room to have a beer with a friend."
@american
@american
Every Step Of The Way
I saw something wonderful the other day. I was on my way to pick up some groceries with my cousin in the car. It was a brisk, sunny day with peak Fall colors blessing the trees and my heart with their beauty. As a car in front of us came to a stop in order to turn off the highway, however, I saw something even more beautiful. A young mother was walking along holding the hand of her toddler. When they reached the safety of an empty church parking lot the mother suddenly let go of her child's hand and watched as the 2 year old joyfully ran ahead as fast as his little feet could carry him.
I smiled when I saw the little guy toddling along with his mom walking behind him. It took me back so many years to the first time I was let go of my own hand by my Mom. My Mom was scared watching me run ahead when I was barely able to walk, but She knew it was time. She had to let them go so I could grow. She had to let me walk, trip, and even hit the dirt knowing that I would get back up, dust myself off, and try again. She had to let me run ahead trusting that at some point I would turn around and run back into her arms.
In a lot of ways we are like those little toddlers. We are Children of God just beginning to walk on our own in this world. While God lovingly watches over us we run ahead, stumble and fall, get back up and try again. We learn how to walk, we learn how to think, we learn how to live, and we learn how to love. And as we journey through this life hopefully we all one day grow wise enough to turn around and run back into our Heavenly Father's loving arms.
On your own travels through this world remember that you never walk alone. God loves you and is walking with you every step of the way. May your every step lead you to greater growth, learning, and love. May your every stride bring you a little closer to Heaven.
@american
@american
Humility and the Hitchhiker
Continued ...
As I drove off I was in tears because I was so touched. You see, I felt as though I just handed myself $50. I always pray that I can be of use to my fellow man, and I believe that God puts people in our lives for a reason. The Bible also says give and you shall receive. What I received today was a small miracle from a homeless man with blue eyes that reminded me there is still some good in this world, that I have a lot to be grateful for. Honestly, I don't think the money or the cigarettes meant nearly as much to him as receiving a smile, and a display of genuine kindness in what can be such a cold, cruel world. I am truly touched, I almost feel like I was looking into the eyes of my higher power. In a sense, I was, because he is out there, all I have to do is look.
@american
All The Little Things
Over the years I have learned that the best lives are built one choice and one change at a time. They are not built on some big triumph or accomplishment but rather on all the little things we choose to do every single day. What are some of these little things that you can do to change your own life? Here are just a few of them.
Say "Good Morning God!" when you wake up everyday. Watch the sunrise. Watch the sunset. Watch the birds flying across the sky. Smell the flowers. Play in the leaves. Make snow angels. Pet your pets. Play with your kids. Pray. Smile at that person in the mirror. Smile at that stranger on the street. Wave. Hug your children. Hug your friends. Hug yourself. Care and sometimes cry. Sing and sometimes dance. Read an uplifting book. Write an uplifting letter. Laugh often. Encourage those around you. Offer to help another. Give a compliment. Pat a back. Shake a hand. Share a kiss. Say "Please." Say "Thank You." Say "Your Welcome." Take a walk. Take a nap. Take a moment to thank God for today. Enjoy a meal. Hum a tune. Whistle while you work. Listen to music. Listen to the birds singing. Listen to people. Be kind. Be compassionate. Do good. Live simply. Give much. Expect nothing in return.
Most of all, though, just love. Choose love. Share love. Learn of love. Grow in love. Pray for love. Delight in love. Become one with God's love. Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. Love yourself. Love everyone else in this world as you love yourself. Love and have joy in that love.
All of these little things build the best life. All of these little choices create a life of love and light. All of these little changes fill you with Heaven and happiness. Try them all. Build a better life, a better you, and a better world.
@american
@american