Subj: tear jerker story
Date: 4/9/99 10:26:43 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: JCLARSONPZ


Here is a story many years ago of an elementary teacher. Her name was
Mrs. Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the
very first day of school, she told the children a lie.  Like most
teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all
the same. But that was impossible, because there in the front row,
slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard. Mrs.
Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't
play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that
he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to
the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his
papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F"
at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise. Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child
with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners... he
is a joy to be around."

His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent
student, well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his
mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle." His
third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He
tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his
home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken." Teddy's
fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much
interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in
class." By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of
herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas
presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for
Teddy's. His present which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy,
brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to
open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children
started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the
stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume. But
she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the
bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her
wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to
say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After
the children left she cried for at least an hour.

On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As
she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she
encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy
had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one her "teacher's pets."

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that
she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from
college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she
was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he
explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a
little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and
favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer --
the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard,M.D. The story doesn't end
there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said
he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his
father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs.
Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually
reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And
guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones
missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy
remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together. They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you. "

The Miracle of a Brother's Song
Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the
way, she did what she could to help her 3 year old son, Michael, prepare
for a new sibling. They found out that the new baby was going to be a
girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sang to his little sister in Mommy's tummy.

He was building a bond of love with his little sister before he even
met her. The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen, an active member of
the Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee.
In time, the labor pains came. Soon it was every five minutes, every
three, every minute. But serious complications arose during delivery and
Karen found herself in hours of labor. Would a C-section be required?
Finally, after a long struggle, Michael's little sister was born. But
she was in very serious condition. With a siren howling in the night, the
ambulance rushed the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St.
Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee.

The days inched by. The little girl got worse. The pediatric specialist
regretfully had to tell the parents, "There is very little hope. Be
prepared for the worst." Karen and her husband contacted a local
cemetery about a burial plot.
They had fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby - but
now they found themselves having to plan for a funeral. Michael, however, kept
begging his parents to let him see his sister. "I want to sing to her," he kept saying. Week two in intensive care looked as if a funeral would come before the week was over. Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in the Intensive Care. Karen made up her mind, though. She would take Michael whether they liked it or not! If he didn't see hissister right then, he may never see her alive. She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU. He
looked like a walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed "Get that kid out of here now! NO children are allowed!" The mother rose up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glared steel-eyed right into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his
sister!" Karen towed Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. After a moment, he began to sing. In the pure hearted voice of a 3-year-old Michael sang:

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies
are gray." Instantly the baby girl seemed to respond. Her pulse rate
began to calm down and become steady. "Keep on singing, Michael,"
encouraged Karen with tears in her eyes. "You never know, dear, how
much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." As Michael sang
to his sister, the baby's ragged, strained breathing became as smooth as
a kitten's purr. "Keep on singing, sweetheart!!"
"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my
hands..." Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing rest, seemed to sweep over her. "Keep on singing, Michael." Tears had now conquered the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glowed. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.Please don't take my sunshine away...." The next, day...the very next day...the little girl was well enough to go home! "Women's Day Magazine" called it "The Miracle of a Brother's
Song." The medical staff just called it a miracle. Karen called it a miracle of God's love! Never give up on the people you love. Love is so Incredibly powerful. Please send this to all the people that have touched your life in some
way.

To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the
world.

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to eke out a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death. The next day, a fancy
carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy farmer
Fleming had saved.
"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."
"No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door ofthe family hovel. "Is that your son?" the nobleman asked. "Yes," the farmer replied proudly.
"I'll make you a deal. Let me take him and give him a good education. If the lad is
anything like his father, he'll grow to a man you can be proud of."
Farmer Fleming's son graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin. Years afterward, the nobleman's son was stricken with pneumonia. What saved him? Penicillin. The name of the nobleman?
Lord Randolph Churchill. His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.

Subj:    Fwd: Are Things Always What They Seem?
Date:    6/17/99 9:22:54 AM Pacific Daylight Time
From:    JCLARSONPZ

>Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the
>home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and
>refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest
>room. Instead the angels were given a space in
>the cold basement.
>
>As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older
>angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When
>the younger angel asked why, the older angel
>replied ..."Things aren't always what they seem".
>
>The next night the pair came to rest at the house of
>a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife.
>After sharing what little food they had the couple let
>the angels sleep in their bed where they could have
>a good night's rest. When the sun came up the next
>morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in
>tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole
>income, lay dead in the field.
>
>The younger angel was infuriated and asked the
>older angel "how could you have let this happen!?
>The first man had everything, yet you helped him,"
>she accused. "The second family had little but was
>willing to share everything, and you let their cow die."
>the older angel replied, "Things aren't always what they
>seem," "When we stayed in the basement of the
>mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole
>in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with
>greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed
>the wall so he wouldn't find it. Then last night as we
>slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for
>his wife. I gave her the cow instead.
>
>
>
>
>Things aren't always what they seem."
>Sometimes this is exactly what happens
>when things don't turn out the way they should.
>If you have faith, you just need
>to trust that every outcome
>is always to your advantage.
>You might not know it until some time later.
>
>Think about this:
>Should you find it hard to get to sleep tonight;
>Just remember the homeless family who has no bed
>to lie in.
>
>Should you find yourself stuck in traffic; don't
>despair. There are people in this world for whom
>driving is an unheard of privilege.
>
>Should you have a bad day at work;
>Think of the man who has been out of work for the
>last three months.
>
>Should you despair over a relationship gone bad;
>Think of the person who has never known
>what it's like to love and be loved in return.
>
>Should you grieve the passing of another weekend;
>Think of the woman in dire straits, working twelve
>hours a day, seven days a week, for $15.00 to feed
>her family.
>
>Should your car break down, leaving you miles away
>from assistance; Think of the paraplegic who would
>love the opportunity to take that walk.
>
>Should you notice a new gray hair in the mirror;
>Think of the cancer patient in chemo who wishes she
>had hair to examine.
>
>Should you find yourself at a loss and pondering;
>what is life all about, what is my purpose?
>Be thankful, there are those who didn't live
>long enough to get the opportunity.
>
>Should you find yourself the victim of other people's
>bitterness, ignorance, smallness or insecurities;
>Remember, things could be worse.
>You could be them!!!
>
>Should you decide to send this to a friend;
>You might brighten someone's day.

Date:    7/26/99 10:28:10 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From:    TLTCOACH
<<A Story To Live By

by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times)

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted
out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip. This is ling-
erie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk,
handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astron-
omical figure on it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first time we
went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving
it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion." He took
the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking
to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then
he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything for a
special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."

I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that
followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that
llow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to Cal-
ifornia from the midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought
about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about
the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life.
I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the
view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time
with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever poss-
ible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying
to recognize these moments now and cherish them. I'm not "saving" anything
; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a
pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.

I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look
prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without
wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware
stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party
-going friends'.

"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my
vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear
and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have done had she known that
she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she
would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called
a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I
like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food.
I'm guessing-I'll never know.

It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that
my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good Friends whom I
was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain
letters that I intended to write-one of these days. Angry and sorry that
I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.


I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would =
add laughter and luster to our lives.
And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from God.
May love litter your life with blessings!

Subj:    Meeting God
Date:    08/24/1999 7:41:33 AM Pacific Daylight Time

> There once was a little boy who wanted to meet God. He knew
> it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase
> with Twinkies and a six- pack of root beer, and he started his
> journey. When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old woman.
> She was sitting in the park just staring at some pigeons. The boy
> sat down next to her and opened his suitcase. He was about to
> take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady
> looked hungry so he offered her a Twinkie. She gratefully accepted
> it and smiled at him. Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted
> to see it again, so he offered her a root beer. Once again,
> she smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all
> afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word. As it
> grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave,
> but before he had gone more than a few steps; he turned around, ran
> back to the old woman, and gave her a hug. She gave him her biggest
> smile ever.
>
> When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later;
> his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked
> him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?" He replied,
> "I had lunch with God. But before his mother could respond, he
> added, "You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile I've ever
> seen!" Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to
> her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and he
> asked, "Mother, what did you do today that made you so happy?" She
> replied, "I ate Twinkies in the park with God." But before her son
> responded, she added, "You know, he's much younger than I expected."
>
> Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word,
> a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring,
> all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come
> into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime..Embrace all
> equally!
>
> You never know when you meet an angel!

When our wings have trouble
>
> One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my
> class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like
he
> was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone
> bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd." I had
quite a weekend planned parties and a football game with my friends
tomorrow afternoon, so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
>
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They
ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he
landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the
grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible
sadness
in
his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he
crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As
I
handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should
get lives." He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile
on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I
helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned
out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He
said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung
out
with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I
carried
his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he
wanted
to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes. We hung
out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him.
And
my friends thought the same of him.
>
Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books
again.
I stopped him and said, "Damn boy, you are gonna really build some
serious
muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me
half the books.
>
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were
seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and
I
was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles
would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going
for
business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class.
I
teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech
for
graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there
and speak.

Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys
that
really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually
looked
good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him!

Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see
that
he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said,
"Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks
(the really grateful one)
and smiled. "Thanks," he said. As he started his speech, he cleared his
throat, and began.
>
"Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those
tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a
coach...but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being
a
friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell
you a story." I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the
story of the first day we met.
>
He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had
cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was
carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.
"Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told
us
all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me,
smiling
that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions.
>
With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for
worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in
some
way. Look for God in others.

> You now have two choices, you can:
> 1) Pass this on to your friends; or
> 2) Delete it and act like it didn't touch your heart.
>
As you can see, I took choice number 1. "Friends are angels who lift us
to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."

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