E-MAIL, Thaughts, and Chuckles

A parable is told of a farmer who owned an old mule.  The mule
fell into the farmer's well.  The farmer heard the mule 'braying' -or-
whatever mules do when they fall into wells.  After carefully assessing
the situation, the farmer sympathized with the mule, but decided that
neither the mule nor the well was worth the trouble of saving.  Instead,
he called his neighbors together and told them what had happened ...and
enlisted them to help haul dirt to bury the old mule in the well and put
him out of his misery.

Initially, the old mule was hysterical!  But as the farmer and
his neighbors continued shoveling and the dirt hit his back ... a
thought struck him.  It suddenly dawned on him that every time a shovel
load of dirt landed on his back ... HE SHOULD SHAKE IT OFF AND STEP UP!  This he did, blow after blow.

"Shake it off and step up...shake it off and step up...shake it off and step up!"  He repeated to encourage himself.  No matter how painful the blows, or how distressing the situation seemed the old mule fought "panic" and just kept right on SHAKING IT OFF AND STEPPING UP!

It wasn't long before the old mule, battered and exhausted, STEPPED 
TRIUMPHANTLY OVER THE WALL OF THAT WELL!  What seemed like it would bury him, actually blessed him...all because of the manner in
which he handled his adversity.

THAT'S LIFE!  If we face our problems and respond to them positively, and refuse to give in to panic, bitterness, or self-pity...THE ADVERSITIES THAT COME ALONG TO BURY US USUALLY HAVE WITHIN THEM THE POTENTIAL TO BENEFIT AND BLESS US!  Remember that
FORGIVENESS, FAITH, PRAYER, PRAISE and HOPE...all are excellent ways to "SHAKE IT OFF AND STEP UP" out of the wells in which we find ourselves!                               sent by Cher

 For all you scientists out there and for all the students who have a
hard time convincing these people regarding the truth of the Bible...here's 
something that shows God's awesome creation and shows that He is still in
control.

Did you know that the space program is busy proving that what has been
called "myth" in the Bible is true?  Mr Harold Hill, President of the
Curtis Engine Company in Baltimore Maryland and a consultant in the space program, relates the following development.  I think  one of the most amazing things that God has for us today happened recently to our astronauts and space  scientists at Green Belt, Maryland. 

They were checking the position of the sun, moon, and planets out in space where they would be 100 years and 1000 years from now. We have to know this so we won't send a satellite up and have it bump into something later on its orbits. We have to lay out the orbits in terms of the life of the satellite, and where the planets will be so the whole thing will not bog down.

 They ran the computer measurement back and forth over the centuries and it came to a halt. The computer stopped and put up a red signal, which meant that there was something wrong either with the information fed into it or with the results as compared to the standards. They called in the service department to check it out and they said "what's wrong?" Well they found there is a day missing in space in elapsed time. They scratched their heads and tore their hair. There was no answer.

 Finally, a Christian man on the team said, "You know, one time I was in
Sunday School and they talked about the sun standing still." While they 
didn't believe him, they didn't have an answer either, so they said, "Show 
us". He got a Bible and went back to the book of Joshua where they found
a pretty ridiculous statement for any one with "common sense."  There they found the Lord saying to Joshua, "Fear them not, I have delivered them into thy hand; there shall not a man of them stand before thee." Joshua was concerned because he was surrounded by the enemy and if darkness fell they would overpower them.  So Joshua asked the Lord to make the sun stand still! 

That's right- "The sun stood still and the moon stayed---and hastened not
to go down about a whole day!" The astronauts and scientists said, "There is the missing day!"

 They checked the computers going back into the time it was written and
found it was close but not close enough.  The elapsed time that was
missing back in Joshua's day was 23 hours and 20 minutes-not a whole day. They read the Bible and there it was "about (approximately) a day"

 These little words in the Bible are important, but they were still in
trouble because if you cannot account for 40 minutes you'll still be in 
trouble 1,000 years from now. Forty minutes had to be found because it
can be multiplied many times over in orbits. 

As the Christian employee thought about it, he remembered somewhere in the Bible where it said the sun went BACKWARDS.  The scientists told him he was out of his mind, but they got out the Book and read these words in 2 Kings:  Hezekiah, on his death-bed, was visited by the prophet Isaiah who told him that he was not going to die.  Hezekiah asked for a sign as proof.  Isaiah said "Do you want the sun to go ahead 10 degrees?"  Hezekiah said "It is nothing for the sun to go ahead 10 degrees, but let the shadow return backward 10 degrees.." Isaiah spoke to the Lord and the Lord brought the shadow ten degrees BACKWARD!  Ten degrees is exactly 40  minutes!  Twenty three hours and 20 minutes in Joshua, plus 
40 minutes in Second Kings make the missing day in the universe!

Isn't it amazing?  God is Truth!

 References:   Joshua 10:8 and 12,13;   2 Kings 20:9-11

 Forward this to as many people who would think this is equally as cool.

Jeremy was born with a twisted body, a slow mind and a chronic, terminal illness that had been slowly killing him all his young life. Still, his parents had tried to give him as normal a life as possible and had sent him to St. Theresa's Elementary School. At the age of 12, Jeremy was only in second grade,seemingly unable to learn.  His teacher, Doris Miller, often became
exasperated with him.  He would squirm in his seat, drool and make grunting noises.  At other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his brain.  Most of the time, however, Jeremy irritated his teacher.

One day, she called his parents and asked them to come to St. Teresa's for
a consultation.  As the Forresters sat quietly in the empty classroom,
Doris said to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a special school. It isn't
fair to him to be with younger children who don't have learning problems.
Why, there is a five-year gap between his age and that of the other
students!" 

Mrs. Forrester cried softly into a tissue while her
husband spoke.

"Miss Miller," he said, "there is no school of that kind nearby.  It would be a  terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to take  him out of this school.  We know he really likes it here." Doris sat for a long time after they left,
staring at the snow outside the window.  Its coldness seemed to seep into her soul.

She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters.  After all, their only child
had a terminal illness.  But it wasn't fair to keep him in her class She had 18 other youngsters to teach and Jeremy was a distraction.  Furthermore, he would never learn to read or write. Why waste any more time trying?

As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her."Oh God," she said
aloud, "here I am complaining when my problems are nothing compared with that poor family!  Please help me to be more patient with Jeremy.
From that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy's noises and his blank stares. 

Then one day he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him.  "I love you, Miss Miller,"  he exclaimed, loudly enough for the whole class to hear.  The other children snickered, and Doris's face turned red.  She stammered, "Wh-Why, that's very nice,  Jeremy. Now please take your seat. 

Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg.
"Now," she said to them "I want you to take this home and bring it back
tomorrow with something inside that shows new life.

Do you understand?" "Yes, Miss Miller!" the children responded
enthusiastically - all except for Jeremy.  He just listened intently, his
eyes never left her face.  He did not even make his usual noises.   Had he understood what she had said about Jesus' death and  resurrection?  Did he understand the assignment?  Perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them. 

That evening, Doris' kitchen sink stopped up.  She called the landlord
and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it.After that,  she still
 had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse and prepare a vocabulary test for
the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy's parents

The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller's desk. 

After they completed their Math lesson, it was time to open the eggs.
In the first egg, Doris found a flower.  "Oh yes, a flower is certainly a
sign of new life," she said.  "When plants peek through the ground we know that spring is here."  A small girl in the first row waved her arms.
 "That's my egg, Miss Miller,"  she called out.   The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real.  Doris held it up.  "We all know that a caterpillar changes and turns in to beautiful butterfly.  Yes, that is new life, too"> >Little Judy smiled proudly and said, "Miss Miller, that one is mine." Next Doris found a rock with moss on it.  She explained that the moss, too, showed life.  Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom.
 "My Daddy helped me!",  he beamed.

 Then Doris opened the fourth egg.  She gasped.  The egg was empty! Surely it must be Jeremy's, she thought, and, of course, he did not understand her instructions.  If only she had not forgotten to phone his parents.  Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside  and reached for another. 

Suddenly Jeremy spoke up.   "Miss Miller, aren't you going to talk about my egg?"  Flustered, Doris replied, "but Jeremy - your egg is empty!"  He looked into her eyes and said softly, "Yes, but Jesus' tomb was empty too!" 

Time stopped.  When she could speak again.  Doris asked him, "Do you know why the tomb was empty?"  "Oh yes!" Jeremy exclaimed.
"Jesus was killed and put in there.  Then his Father raised him up!"
The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the school
yard, Doris cried.  The cold inside her melted completely away.
Three months later Jeremy died.  Those who paid their respects at the
mortuary were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket,
.....................all of them empty.

Isn't that a wonderful story?  If it touched you, pass it on............the world can use some touching stories!                           sent by James

I tried not to be biased in hiring a handicapped person, but his
placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy.
I had never had a mentally handicapped employee, and I wasn't sure I
wanted one.  I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie.  He
was short, a little dumpy, and had the smooth facial features and
thick-tongued speech of Down Syndrome.

I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers
don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meat loaf platter
is good and the pies are homemade.  The four-wheeler drivers were the
ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the
yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for
fear of catching some dreaded "truckstop germ;" the pairs of
white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truckstop
waitress wants to be flirted with.  I knew those people would be
uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few
weeks.  I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my
staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my
truck regulars had adopted him as their official truckstop mascot. 

After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers
thought of him.  He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes,
eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his
duties.  Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a
bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the
table.  Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table
until after the customers were finished.  He would hover in the
background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the
dining room until a table was empty.  Then he would scurry to the empty
table and carefully bus the dishes and glasses onto a cart
and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag.

If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added
concentration.  He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you
had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was
disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer.  They lived on their
Social security benefits in public housing two miles from the
truckstop.  Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so
often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks.  Money was tight,
and what I paid him was the difference between them being able to live
together and Stevie being sent to a group home.

That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August,
the first morning in three years that Stevie had missed work.  He was at
the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his
heart. His social worker said that people with Down Syndrome often had
heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was
a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be
back at work in a few months.

A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when
word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. 
Frannie, my head waitress, let out a war whoop and did a little dance in
the aisle when she heard the good news.  Belle Ringer, one of our
regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50-year-old
grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table.  Frannie
blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look.  He
grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked.  "We just got
word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay."  "I was
wondering where he was.  I had a new joke to tell him. What was the
surgery about?"  Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the
other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then
sighed.

"Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK," she said, "but I don't know how
he and his mom are going to handle all the bills.  From what I hear,
they're barely getting by as it is."  Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully,
and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables.

Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and
really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own
tables until we decided what to do.

After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office.  She had a couple
of paper napkins in her hand a funny look on her face.  "What's up?"  I
asked. "I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were
sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were
sitting there when I got back to clean it off," she said.  "This was
folded and tucked under a coffee cup."  She handed the napkin to me, and
three twenty-dollar bills fell onto my desk when I opened it.  On the
outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Stevie." 
"Pony Pete  asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told him
about Stevie and his mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and
Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me
another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its
outside.  Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds.  Frannie looked at
me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply "truckers."

That was three months ago.  Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie
is supposed to be back to work.  His placement worker said he's been
counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't 
matter at all that it was a holiday.  He called 10 times in the past
week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten
him or that his job was in jeopardy.  I arranged to have his mother
bring him to work, met them in the parking lot, and invited them both to
celebrate his day back. Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop
grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room
where his apron and busing cart were waiting. 

"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said.  I took him and his mother
by their arms.  "Work can wait for a minute.  To celebrate your coming
back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me."  I led them toward a
large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the
rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining
room.  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning
truckers empty and join the procession.

We stopped in front of the big table.  Its surface was covered with
coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on
dozens of folded paper napkins. "First thing you have to do, Stevie, is
clean up this mess," I said.  I tried to sound stern.  Stevie looked at
me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins.  It had
"Something for Stevie" printed on the outside.  As he picked it up, two
$10 bills fell onto the table. Stevie stared at the money, then at all
the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name
printed or scrawled on it.  I turned to his mother.

"There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from
trucker and trucking companies that heard about your problems.  Happy
Thanksgiving."

Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and
shouting, and there were a few tears, as well.  But you know what's
funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each
other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all
the cups and dishes from the table.

Best worker I ever hired.

---Author Unknown