Soon Tommy’s parents, who had recently separated, would arrive for a conference on his failing schoolwork and disruptive behavior. Neither parent knew that I had summoned the other.
Tommy, an only child, had always been happy, cooperative, and an excellent student. How could I convince his father and mother that his recent failing grades represented a brokenhearted child’s reaction to his adored parents’ separation and pending divorce?
Tommy’s mother entered and took one of the chairs I had placed near my desk. Then the father arrived. They pointedly ignored each other.
As I gave a detailed account of Tommy’s behavior and schoolwork, I prayed for the right words to bring these two together to help them see what they were doing to their son. But somehow the words wouldn’t come. Perhaps if they saw one of his smudged, carelessly done papers.
I found a crumpled, tear-stained sheet stuffed in the back of his desk. Writing covered both sides, a single sentence scribbled over and over.
Silently I smoothed it out and gave it to Tommy’s mother. She read it and then without a word handed it to her husband. He frowned. Then his face softened. He studied the scrawled words for what seemed an eternity.
At last he folded the paper carefully and reached for his wife’s outstretched hand. She wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled up at him. My own eyes were brimming, but neither seemed to notice.
In his own way God had given me the words to reunite that family. He had guided me to the sheet of yellow copy paper covered with the anguished outpouring of a small boy’s troubled heart.
“Dear Mother . . . Dear Daddy . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you.”
Monthly Archives: April 2011
I like myself now
I had a great feeling of relief when I began to understand that a youngster needs more than just subject matter at school. I know mathematics well, and I teach it well. I used to think that was all I needed to do. Now I teach children all subjects, not only math. I accept the fact that I can only succeed partially with some of them. I seemed to have more answers than when I tried to be the expert. The youngster who really made me understand this was Eddie. I asked him one day why he thought he was doing so much better than last year. He gave meaning to my whole new orientation.
“It’s because I like myself now when I’m with you,” he said.
Two Brothers
Two brothers worked together on the family farm. One was married and had a large family. The other was single. At the day’s end, the brothers shared everything equally, produce and profit.
Then one day the single brother said to himself, “It’s not right that we should share equally the produce and the profit. I’m alone and my needs are simple.” So each night he took a sack of grain from his bin and crept across the field between their houses, dumping it into his brother’s bin.
Meanwhile, the married brother said to himself, “It’s not right that we should share the produce and the profit equally. After all, I’m married and I have my wife and my children to look after me in years to come. My brother has no one, and no one to take care of his future.” So each night, he took a sack of grain and dumped it into his single brother’s bin.
Both men were puzzled for years because their supply of grain never dwindled. Then one dark night the two brothers bumped into each other. Slowly it dawned on them what was happening. They dropped their sacks and embraced one another.
The Gentlest Need
At least once a day our old black cat comes to one of us in a way that we’ve all come to see as a special request. It does not mean he wants to be fed, or to be let out. His need is for something very different.
If you have a lap handy, he’ll jump into it. Once in it, he begins to vibrate almost before you stroke his back, scratch his chin, and tell him over and over what a good kitty he is.
Our daughter puts it simply: “Blackie needs to be purred.”
Blackie isn’t the only one who has that need: I share it, and so does my wife. Still, I associate it especially with youngsters, with their quick, impulsive need for a hug, a warm lap, and a hand held out – such gestures requiring only a little time.
If I could do just one thing, it would be this: To guarantee every child, everywhere, one good purring every day. Kids, like cats, need time to purr
An Act of Kindness
President Abraham Lincoln often visited hospitals to talk with wounded soldiers during the Civil War. Once, doctors pointed out a young soldier who was near death and Lincoln went over to his bedside.
Compassion is in the Eyes
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| Compassion is in the Eyes |
It was a bitter, cold evening in northern Virginia many years ago.
The old man's beard was glazed by winter's frost while he waited
for a ride across the river. The wait seemed endless. His body
became numb and stiff from the frigid north wind. He heard the
faint, steady rhythm of approaching hooves galloping along the
frozen path.
Anxiously, he watched as several horsemen rounded the bend. He let
the first one pass by without an effort to get his attention. Then
another passed by , and another. Finally, the last rider neared the
spot where the old man sat like a snow statue.
As this one drew near, the old man caught the rider's eye and said,
"Sir, would you mind giving an old man a ride to the other side?
There doesn't appear to be a passageway by foot."
Reining his horse, the rider replied, "Sure thing. Hop aboard."
Seeing the old man was unable to lift his half-frozen body from the
ground, the horseman dismounted and helped the old man onto the
horse. The horseman took the old man not just across the river, but
to his destination, which was just a few miles away.
As they neared the tiny but cozy cottage, the horseman's curiosity
caused him to inquire, "Sir, I notice that you let several other
riders pass by without making an effort to secure a ride. Then I
came up and you immediately asked me for a ride. I'm curious why,
on such a bitter winter night, you would wait and ask the last
rider. What if I had refused and left you there?"
The old man lowered himself slowly down from the horse, looked the
rider straight in the eyes, and replied, "I've been around these
here parts for some time. I reckon I know people pretty good." The
old-timer continued, "I looked into the eyes of the other riders
and immediately saw there was no concern for my situation. It would
have been useless even to ask them for a ride.
But when I looked into your eyes, kindness and compassion were
evident. I knew, then and there, that your gentle spirit would
welcome the opportunity to give me assistance in my time of need."
Those heartwarming comments touched the horseman deeply. "I'm most
grateful for what you have said," he told the old man. "May I never
get too busy in my own affairs that I fail to respond to the needs
of others with kindness and compassion." With that, Thomas
Jefferson turned his horse around and made his way back to the
White House.--Author UnknownDignity and humility are the cornerstones of compassion.- Theodore Isaac Rubin
Do It Now
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| Do it now |
In a crash course in psychology, the professor gave the assignment to the students: “Within a week, you go to someone you love, and tell them that you love them. They are people that you have never or rarely told such words.”
The assignment looked easy. However, almost the men of the course, who were over 30 years old, found it difficult to carry out because rarely had they expressed their feelings to someone else.
At the beginning of the next class, the professor asked his students to retell their stories. It seemed that he waited for a woman, but an arm of a man raised. He looked so touched. He began his story:
“Five years ago, my father and I had a vicious disagreement and never really resolved it. We avoided seeing each other unless we absolutely had to at family gatherings. Even those times, we hardly spoke. So by the time I got home, I had convinced myself I was going to tell my father I loved him.
Just making that decision seemed to lift a heavy load off my chest. During that night, I hardly slept. Next day, I was at my parents’ house ringing the doorbell, praying that Dad would answer the door. I was afraid if Mom answered, I would chicken out and tell her instead. But as luck would have it, Dad did answer the door.
‘I didn’t waste any time’ – I took one step in the door and said, ‘Dad, I just came over to tell you that please forgive me and I love you.’
It was as if a transformation came over my dad. Before my eyes his face softened, the wrinkles seemed to disappear and he began to cry. He reached out and hugged me and said, ‘I love you too, son, but I’ve never been able to say it.’
But that’s not even my point. Two days after that visit, my dad had a sudden heart attack and now is still in the hospital. If I am still hesitating about talking to my father, I may not have no chance to do so.”
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