Lesson in Unconditional Love
by Brenda
I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with. Her last project of the term was called "Smile". The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reaction.I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say hello anyway.....so, I thought, this would be a piece of cake (literally).Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonalds, one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special play time with our son.We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not move an inch...an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved. As I turned around I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell...and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was "smiling"...his beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance. He said, "Good day" as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally deficient and the blue eyed gentle man was his salvation. I held my tears......as I stood there with them.The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, "Coffee is all Miss" because that was all they could afford (to sit in the restaurant and warm up they had to buy something...they just wanted to be warm). Then I really felt it...the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me...judging my every action. I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue eyed gentleman's cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Thank you". I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, "I did not do this for you...God is here working through me to give you hope". I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you to me honey....to give me hope". We held hands for a moment and at that time we knew that only because of the Grace were we able to give ..... We are not church goers but we are believers. That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love.I returned to college, on the last evening of class,with this story in hand. I turned in "my project" and the instructor read it....then she looked up at me and said, "Can I share this?" I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read and that is when I knew that we as human beings (part of God) share this need to heal. In my own way I had touched the people at McDonalds, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student. I Graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn....unconditional acceptance......after all....we are here to learn!
Friday, March 9, 2007
A FABLE FOR THE THIRD MILLENNIUM
by Austin Repath
The Millennium Dome becomes a shrine for the first Millennium Eve Vigil as the old man remembers the the first Vigil held there on New Year's Eve, 1999
Just the day before, the old man had received the news that his time on earth was coming to an end. How fitting, he thought, that this opening of the annual year's end Vigil in the ancient Millennium Dome should be his last official act on earth. He thought back over the century his life time had spanned.
The 21st century had been an amazing century. Science had extended the span of human life beyond anyone's wildest dreams. Nature, apparently, had curbed the population explosion by means of an unexplained almost zero sperm count within the male population. The human species, although up to its usual bag of dirty tricks, had developed a sufficient appreciation for life so as to start reversing some of the horrors of the 20th century.
However, the most important shift that occurred during the 21st century was associated with a project that he had been a part of: bringing life to the barren landscape of Mars. Most people had seen the project as simply an expensive scientific experiment; a few had seen it as a resurrection of a dead planet. Either way for most of the 21st century, humankind had been engaged not in destroying a planet, but in bringing life to one.
It was his research into terraforming that had shown how to warm up the surface of Mars to the point where the subterranean ice melted, lakes formed, plants had been introduced, forests were started. Now an earth like protective atmosphere was beginning to develop. The impact on the human mind of bringing back to life a dead planet drastically changed the way people thought about themselves. They no longer saw themsleves as polluters and destroyers. They now saw themselves in a more positive light.This change in attitude was largely responsible for the restoration of planet earth to a state of sustainable equilibrium. Funny, he thought, how things worked and now here he was at the venerable age of 120 about to open the Vigil.
The crowd fell hushed as the reenactment of the Millennium Eve Vigil began. Television cameras focused in on the old man. The viewers knew he was the last living witness to that first Vigil and through his telling they hoped to experience in some small way what had transpired that night long before their own lives had begun. They watched as the old man rose from his chair, looked out at this new generation and slowly began to speak.
"It was at this hour, 12 noon on the last day of the Second Millennium, 1999, that people around the world came together, to be part of an event that we still celebrate even today.
"But in truth it had begun years earlier when a few intuitive people began to sense that a threshold moment in history was about to happen and with the right guidance and a little luck the human race could walk through it into a new place.
"They began with themselves, looked at what they needed to leave behind and what they needed to change. They gathered their friends together and with them created the rituals of threshold: the rites of reconciliation, of passage, of celebration. Gradually, these men and women began to see themselves as on a pilgrimage towards a moment in time that would be made sacred by what they and others brought to it. And thus they became known as the Millennium Pilgrims.
“Then in the closing days of the second millennium a series of unexpected events occurred that created an opportunity for people to come together in a moment of human understanding and compassion. The dark interval as it came to be called proved to be an essential part of the threshold for it provided a means for humanity to remove itself from the grips of complacency and self indulgence.
But it was the courage of one man, and a global television news network that took upon itself the task of broadcasting the Vigil that made the difference. For without them it is doubtful that what we have become, would have happened. "And so it was that people around the world sat down in front of their sets to watch what first looked like a 24 hour television marathon but which turned out to be a threshold through which the peoples of the earth passed through into a new way of seeing the world.
"On that last day of the 20th. century, a certain Millennium Pilgrim appeared on the television screen. She smiled warmly towards us, her grey eyes twinkling as if she had a great secret she was about to share with us. Then with a nod of reassurance she began, `You who have walked this earth with me, let us pause and look at how far we have come this last one thousand years. Let us begin by looking at what we have accomplished.'
"And with her words the screen faded to live performances of the great music that had been written across the Millennium from the plain chant of 12th century monks, through Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Scraibin. As the music lifted our spirits, the camera drew our eyes to gothic cathedrals, spires of Renaissance churches, town squares, city skylines, the simple but beautiful homes of ordinary people. Even the humble invention of John Crapper was not overlooked, nor where the illuminated manuscripts and books that bespoke mankind's struggle for truth, and as the music faded to the background, the speakers of the word came forward to recite a soliloquy from Shakespeare, a poem from Emily Dickinson, the words of James Joyce, On and on it went, the rich heritage of the past, including even the fascinating but ultimately destructive art form of the 20th century, the automobile.
"Perhaps this is a good time to mention that different parts of the world produced parallel segments so that each country could see the achievements of humankind in its own art and culture. And so hours past as accomplishments one after the other washed over us, until we swelled with pride at all that we humankind had achieved across the millennium. Let me tell you, to bask in the glory of our species and its greatness was an exulting experience, I will never forget.
"At the end of this the Millennium Pilgrim asked each of us to pause and in a similar way to acknowledge our own accomplishments. And so with softer more reflective music in the background we shared with each other what we had accomplished. I remember some, within the Millennium Dome where I was celebrating the Vigil, needing a little prodding by their friends to admit to all their successes.
"Then, with a gentle inclusive gesture, the white haired pilgrim asked us also to look at the times we were less than successful. She suggested we do this in silence and took us through a list of missed opportunities. After each one she asked us to speak aloud "I forgive myself". Personally, I remember failing to be at my mother's death bed. I forgave myself and asked for her forgiveness. I recalled failing to give an acquaintance a loan of some money, when he phoned late one night. A few days later I saw him walking around on crutches, probably revenge for not being able to repay a drug debt. "I forgive myself". And other such things still too personal to speak of here.
"And yet back then, when I looked about the circle of people who had gathered together to celebrate the vigil, I could see that even if I had spoken aloud my faults, there would be no judgment in their eyes. For my part whatever the failures in their past, I realized that I could forgive them as they had me. This was no small miracle,but there was more.
"People began acknowledging the hurt they had done to each other and asking each other for forgiveness. It went on for a long time and with each act of reconciliation came a sense of relief as we freed ourselves bit by bit from our past. Personally, I found the good feelings rather intoxicating. However, what came next quickly sobered me up.
"I remember the Pilgrim asking us not to turn away from what was coming, but simply to acknowledge that just as we as individuals did violence either wilfully or in ignorance, so too on a much larger scale did our species. What followed next I would like to pass over quickly. Back then I remember feeling so ashamed of being a member of the human race, I would gladly have traded places with the smallest worm on the planet.
"On the screen appeared the horrors that we had inflicted on each other across the millennium: the wars, the genocides, the abuse of children, the cruelty, the killing off of thousands upon thousands of our own kind and then the annihilation of whole species of animals. Finally came the culmination of all horrors, our species almost destroying the very planet we live on. And just when I thought I could take no more of this dark side of our nature, the Pilgrim appeared on the screen.
"For the longest time she stood in silence with tears streaming down her face. There was such compassion in those infinitely gentle, grey eyes of hers that I found myself weeping: weeping for all who had fallen victim to our violence, weeping for the perpetrators who were blinded to their own humanity. For that moment I shared her compassion for human kind, and together we wept for the needless suffering caused across the millennium by our stupidity and arrogance. For perhaps the first time in my life, I felt truly human. For me this would have been enough, but there was more.
" When I looked back into those wise, grey eyes I saw in them a truth I still find hard to accept. These horrors along with our achievements were an essential part of the human tapestry; that it was our life's work to weave these threads of light and darkness, joy and sorrow into a work of art. Nor had I any doubt that when seen from eternity with whose eyes we knew not this human tapestry would reveal a masterpiece worthy to be called divine. It was a startling revelation, I still cannot fully comprehend.
"Finally when she broke the long silence in which so much had transpired, her words bespoke a simple acknowledgement of all that we were. `We who have come together, as both weave and weavers, let us celebrate this moment in our lives.' And with this simple request she dropped us gently back into the safe confines of the ordinary. The screen shifted to that most mundane and so-often-seen New Year's Eve place and moment, - Times Square, New York, and the countdown to midnight.
"All I can remember of the next hour was the sweetness of old friends, warm embraces, reminiscences, the singing of Auld Lang Syne and champagne corks popping. It was like every other New Year's Eve, and yet like no other. We made our peace with each other, pledged our love to those who were dear to us until almost without our knowing we gradually drifted back into silence, then fell away into that solitaire vigil known to every sentinel at the gate, known by everyone at the moment of their dying.
"At that moment each of us stood alone, saw our limitations, felt our mortality, knew that the world we had grown up in was coming to an end, and yet despite the sadness at the passing of all that we clung to, there was simply a sense beyond description of the privilege of having lived. And there was this wonderful feeling of simply being alive and knowing that we were all part of life itself. It was almost like a near-death experience; for when I came out of the private place of my own vigil, I was returned to life with different eyes. When I looked about me I was filled with an overwhelming feeling of tremendous gratitude for the gift of life, and this changed everything.
"Then, with the dawning of the first day of the new millennium, the beloved Pilgrim appeared on our television screens for the last time. Dressed in a shimmering white garment, she beckoned to us, `Come, let us enter together this new millennium.' The camera stayed with her as she walked over to a group of young people singing that old spiritual 'Morning has broken.'
"Afterwards they shared their vision of the future. Each of them had that in-your-face promise of just watch what I'm going to do. But it was tempered by a knowledge of the world; they knew life - we had taught them well by example. Old far beyond their years they knew full well the so-called lessons of life, but they were not bitter. Angry at us, yes, but not damning of us. I could live with that. Then the Pilgrim asked them what they needed from us.
"One young woman, stepped forward like the voice of the new millennium herself. `We will handle the problems of the future. We ask you to take responsibility for the past.' Another youth came forward asking that our wisdom be passed on to them. Another begged us not to stay within our safe and comfortable little worlds. He wanted us to come out and build with them this new millennium. He had about him that idealism of youth and that sense that all things are possible that he cut through my cynicism and world weariness.
"And when he looked directly at us and said 'Come it is not too late to create a new world' my hopelessness and angst ridden soul melted. The invitation was so heartfelt and genuine to put aside our differences and create a new world that I was touched to the depths of my being.
"Now back then I had been working on my doctorate in astrophysics hoping to join NASA the following year. But those words it is not too late to create a new world rang through my head, and as if in answer a voice inside me replied. `Why not on Mars?' And at that moment my destiny was sealed. The next day I switched my research to learn how to create a life sustaining atmosphere on Mars.
"To others the question - `why not on earth' moved them to act. And look about us. Have we not both succeeded. Tomorrow I leave behind this resplendent planet to go with the first group of settlers to our sister planet, Mars. Is that not a fitting way to leave this fine planet earth?"
The participants sat there unsure how to respond.Then one woman jumped to her feet and shouted out the one word that could best honor his life and his work. Then everyone was on their feet chanting, "Pilgrim, Pilgrim, Pilgrim."
The old man wiped a tear from his eye as he let himself be escorted to the place of honour at the head of the Millennium Dome by the master of ceremonies for that year. He thought her a bit too young for the position until her gentle grey eyes looked into his and once again he knew that all would be well. At peace with himself and the world, the old man listened as she intoned the opening invocation for Vigil, New Year's Eve, 2099.
by Austin Repath
The Millennium Dome becomes a shrine for the first Millennium Eve Vigil as the old man remembers the the first Vigil held there on New Year's Eve, 1999
Just the day before, the old man had received the news that his time on earth was coming to an end. How fitting, he thought, that this opening of the annual year's end Vigil in the ancient Millennium Dome should be his last official act on earth. He thought back over the century his life time had spanned.
The 21st century had been an amazing century. Science had extended the span of human life beyond anyone's wildest dreams. Nature, apparently, had curbed the population explosion by means of an unexplained almost zero sperm count within the male population. The human species, although up to its usual bag of dirty tricks, had developed a sufficient appreciation for life so as to start reversing some of the horrors of the 20th century.
However, the most important shift that occurred during the 21st century was associated with a project that he had been a part of: bringing life to the barren landscape of Mars. Most people had seen the project as simply an expensive scientific experiment; a few had seen it as a resurrection of a dead planet. Either way for most of the 21st century, humankind had been engaged not in destroying a planet, but in bringing life to one.
It was his research into terraforming that had shown how to warm up the surface of Mars to the point where the subterranean ice melted, lakes formed, plants had been introduced, forests were started. Now an earth like protective atmosphere was beginning to develop. The impact on the human mind of bringing back to life a dead planet drastically changed the way people thought about themselves. They no longer saw themsleves as polluters and destroyers. They now saw themselves in a more positive light.This change in attitude was largely responsible for the restoration of planet earth to a state of sustainable equilibrium. Funny, he thought, how things worked and now here he was at the venerable age of 120 about to open the Vigil.
The crowd fell hushed as the reenactment of the Millennium Eve Vigil began. Television cameras focused in on the old man. The viewers knew he was the last living witness to that first Vigil and through his telling they hoped to experience in some small way what had transpired that night long before their own lives had begun. They watched as the old man rose from his chair, looked out at this new generation and slowly began to speak.
"It was at this hour, 12 noon on the last day of the Second Millennium, 1999, that people around the world came together, to be part of an event that we still celebrate even today.
"But in truth it had begun years earlier when a few intuitive people began to sense that a threshold moment in history was about to happen and with the right guidance and a little luck the human race could walk through it into a new place.
"They began with themselves, looked at what they needed to leave behind and what they needed to change. They gathered their friends together and with them created the rituals of threshold: the rites of reconciliation, of passage, of celebration. Gradually, these men and women began to see themselves as on a pilgrimage towards a moment in time that would be made sacred by what they and others brought to it. And thus they became known as the Millennium Pilgrims.
“Then in the closing days of the second millennium a series of unexpected events occurred that created an opportunity for people to come together in a moment of human understanding and compassion. The dark interval as it came to be called proved to be an essential part of the threshold for it provided a means for humanity to remove itself from the grips of complacency and self indulgence.
But it was the courage of one man, and a global television news network that took upon itself the task of broadcasting the Vigil that made the difference. For without them it is doubtful that what we have become, would have happened. "And so it was that people around the world sat down in front of their sets to watch what first looked like a 24 hour television marathon but which turned out to be a threshold through which the peoples of the earth passed through into a new way of seeing the world.
"On that last day of the 20th. century, a certain Millennium Pilgrim appeared on the television screen. She smiled warmly towards us, her grey eyes twinkling as if she had a great secret she was about to share with us. Then with a nod of reassurance she began, `You who have walked this earth with me, let us pause and look at how far we have come this last one thousand years. Let us begin by looking at what we have accomplished.'
"And with her words the screen faded to live performances of the great music that had been written across the Millennium from the plain chant of 12th century monks, through Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Scraibin. As the music lifted our spirits, the camera drew our eyes to gothic cathedrals, spires of Renaissance churches, town squares, city skylines, the simple but beautiful homes of ordinary people. Even the humble invention of John Crapper was not overlooked, nor where the illuminated manuscripts and books that bespoke mankind's struggle for truth, and as the music faded to the background, the speakers of the word came forward to recite a soliloquy from Shakespeare, a poem from Emily Dickinson, the words of James Joyce, On and on it went, the rich heritage of the past, including even the fascinating but ultimately destructive art form of the 20th century, the automobile.
"Perhaps this is a good time to mention that different parts of the world produced parallel segments so that each country could see the achievements of humankind in its own art and culture. And so hours past as accomplishments one after the other washed over us, until we swelled with pride at all that we humankind had achieved across the millennium. Let me tell you, to bask in the glory of our species and its greatness was an exulting experience, I will never forget.
"At the end of this the Millennium Pilgrim asked each of us to pause and in a similar way to acknowledge our own accomplishments. And so with softer more reflective music in the background we shared with each other what we had accomplished. I remember some, within the Millennium Dome where I was celebrating the Vigil, needing a little prodding by their friends to admit to all their successes.
"Then, with a gentle inclusive gesture, the white haired pilgrim asked us also to look at the times we were less than successful. She suggested we do this in silence and took us through a list of missed opportunities. After each one she asked us to speak aloud "I forgive myself". Personally, I remember failing to be at my mother's death bed. I forgave myself and asked for her forgiveness. I recalled failing to give an acquaintance a loan of some money, when he phoned late one night. A few days later I saw him walking around on crutches, probably revenge for not being able to repay a drug debt. "I forgive myself". And other such things still too personal to speak of here.
"And yet back then, when I looked about the circle of people who had gathered together to celebrate the vigil, I could see that even if I had spoken aloud my faults, there would be no judgment in their eyes. For my part whatever the failures in their past, I realized that I could forgive them as they had me. This was no small miracle,but there was more.
"People began acknowledging the hurt they had done to each other and asking each other for forgiveness. It went on for a long time and with each act of reconciliation came a sense of relief as we freed ourselves bit by bit from our past. Personally, I found the good feelings rather intoxicating. However, what came next quickly sobered me up.
"I remember the Pilgrim asking us not to turn away from what was coming, but simply to acknowledge that just as we as individuals did violence either wilfully or in ignorance, so too on a much larger scale did our species. What followed next I would like to pass over quickly. Back then I remember feeling so ashamed of being a member of the human race, I would gladly have traded places with the smallest worm on the planet.
"On the screen appeared the horrors that we had inflicted on each other across the millennium: the wars, the genocides, the abuse of children, the cruelty, the killing off of thousands upon thousands of our own kind and then the annihilation of whole species of animals. Finally came the culmination of all horrors, our species almost destroying the very planet we live on. And just when I thought I could take no more of this dark side of our nature, the Pilgrim appeared on the screen.
"For the longest time she stood in silence with tears streaming down her face. There was such compassion in those infinitely gentle, grey eyes of hers that I found myself weeping: weeping for all who had fallen victim to our violence, weeping for the perpetrators who were blinded to their own humanity. For that moment I shared her compassion for human kind, and together we wept for the needless suffering caused across the millennium by our stupidity and arrogance. For perhaps the first time in my life, I felt truly human. For me this would have been enough, but there was more.
" When I looked back into those wise, grey eyes I saw in them a truth I still find hard to accept. These horrors along with our achievements were an essential part of the human tapestry; that it was our life's work to weave these threads of light and darkness, joy and sorrow into a work of art. Nor had I any doubt that when seen from eternity with whose eyes we knew not this human tapestry would reveal a masterpiece worthy to be called divine. It was a startling revelation, I still cannot fully comprehend.
"Finally when she broke the long silence in which so much had transpired, her words bespoke a simple acknowledgement of all that we were. `We who have come together, as both weave and weavers, let us celebrate this moment in our lives.' And with this simple request she dropped us gently back into the safe confines of the ordinary. The screen shifted to that most mundane and so-often-seen New Year's Eve place and moment, - Times Square, New York, and the countdown to midnight.
"All I can remember of the next hour was the sweetness of old friends, warm embraces, reminiscences, the singing of Auld Lang Syne and champagne corks popping. It was like every other New Year's Eve, and yet like no other. We made our peace with each other, pledged our love to those who were dear to us until almost without our knowing we gradually drifted back into silence, then fell away into that solitaire vigil known to every sentinel at the gate, known by everyone at the moment of their dying.
"At that moment each of us stood alone, saw our limitations, felt our mortality, knew that the world we had grown up in was coming to an end, and yet despite the sadness at the passing of all that we clung to, there was simply a sense beyond description of the privilege of having lived. And there was this wonderful feeling of simply being alive and knowing that we were all part of life itself. It was almost like a near-death experience; for when I came out of the private place of my own vigil, I was returned to life with different eyes. When I looked about me I was filled with an overwhelming feeling of tremendous gratitude for the gift of life, and this changed everything.
"Then, with the dawning of the first day of the new millennium, the beloved Pilgrim appeared on our television screens for the last time. Dressed in a shimmering white garment, she beckoned to us, `Come, let us enter together this new millennium.' The camera stayed with her as she walked over to a group of young people singing that old spiritual 'Morning has broken.'
"Afterwards they shared their vision of the future. Each of them had that in-your-face promise of just watch what I'm going to do. But it was tempered by a knowledge of the world; they knew life - we had taught them well by example. Old far beyond their years they knew full well the so-called lessons of life, but they were not bitter. Angry at us, yes, but not damning of us. I could live with that. Then the Pilgrim asked them what they needed from us.
"One young woman, stepped forward like the voice of the new millennium herself. `We will handle the problems of the future. We ask you to take responsibility for the past.' Another youth came forward asking that our wisdom be passed on to them. Another begged us not to stay within our safe and comfortable little worlds. He wanted us to come out and build with them this new millennium. He had about him that idealism of youth and that sense that all things are possible that he cut through my cynicism and world weariness.
"And when he looked directly at us and said 'Come it is not too late to create a new world' my hopelessness and angst ridden soul melted. The invitation was so heartfelt and genuine to put aside our differences and create a new world that I was touched to the depths of my being.
"Now back then I had been working on my doctorate in astrophysics hoping to join NASA the following year. But those words it is not too late to create a new world rang through my head, and as if in answer a voice inside me replied. `Why not on Mars?' And at that moment my destiny was sealed. The next day I switched my research to learn how to create a life sustaining atmosphere on Mars.
"To others the question - `why not on earth' moved them to act. And look about us. Have we not both succeeded. Tomorrow I leave behind this resplendent planet to go with the first group of settlers to our sister planet, Mars. Is that not a fitting way to leave this fine planet earth?"
The participants sat there unsure how to respond.Then one woman jumped to her feet and shouted out the one word that could best honor his life and his work. Then everyone was on their feet chanting, "Pilgrim, Pilgrim, Pilgrim."
The old man wiped a tear from his eye as he let himself be escorted to the place of honour at the head of the Millennium Dome by the master of ceremonies for that year. He thought her a bit too young for the position until her gentle grey eyes looked into his and once again he knew that all would be well. At peace with himself and the world, the old man listened as she intoned the opening invocation for Vigil, New Year's Eve, 2099.
Atria's Amazing Miracle
Author unknown
Atira was watching the TV show 20/20 in her living room in Seattle. The show was about a Nun, in Egypt, that was dedicating her retirement years to the garbage-dump-city in CAIRO. Atira has an Egyptian import business. When she saw the show of the Nun and her works for the poor and homeless at the garbage dump city, Atira knew she had to help. Atira ordered the transcript from the TV show and set out to see what she could do to help.Atira asked everyone coming to a baby shower, at her home, to bring a wash clothand soap. They thought she was nuts, until she told them why. She called her Dentist and Doctor's offices and asked what kind of medicines would be needed to help out in a poverty area.She collected toothbrushes, bandages, etc....until she had suitcases full of thingsto take to Cairo with her. Her goal was to do her part to help.Atira was going with a group on her next trip to Egypt so she asked some of the other members in the tour group to help by bringing used children's clothing , pencils, and children's books with them to be given to this caring Nun Sister E.Eight other people were kind enough to collect and bring pens, coloring books, clothes, and various toys, to help.On their arrival in Cairo, not knowing what to do with the mountain of supplies for the Nun. She asked the hotel manager if he could try and locate this healer of the poor, and within days, he had located the Nun. But the Nun was out of the country and would not be back until Atira had returned to Seattle.The Hotel Manager said he would store the goods and present them to the Sister E for Atira.But, that is not the miracle part. The miracle is how one person can effect the lives of others, how our intentions lead us to miracles.The hotel manager shared the story of Atira's kind gesture,with other members of the tour.As it turned out there were two people, who worked with World Wide Health Care Project for the Poor. They had never heard of Sister E. and her plight to help the poor.These men stayed in Cairo longer than Atira could, and were there when the goods from Atira were collected by Sister E.These men ended up talking to Sister E. They were able to get her funding for a Health Care Clinic. When the hotel manager saw Sister E he realized that she often had come into the hotel to use the phone, and he just did not know who she was.And now, she has FREE phone privileges in his hotel.Atira wanted to help in a small way....this story makes my heart smile and I hope it does yours too. Helping in whatever way you can help makes miracles unfold for others.P.S.Atira still travels to Egypt regularity. She always tries to take something to help Sister E. It was three years before Atira was able to meet Sister E. In person. It was a wonderful meeting with heart felt thanks and a new found friendship. The last time she was there the 66 children needed only $75 extra for vaccinations, and Atira paid for these children. This is one of the finest woman I know. She did get to help in a greater way than she could have ever imagined.
No further information is available about the author, Artia, or Sister E.
Author unknown
Atira was watching the TV show 20/20 in her living room in Seattle. The show was about a Nun, in Egypt, that was dedicating her retirement years to the garbage-dump-city in CAIRO. Atira has an Egyptian import business. When she saw the show of the Nun and her works for the poor and homeless at the garbage dump city, Atira knew she had to help. Atira ordered the transcript from the TV show and set out to see what she could do to help.Atira asked everyone coming to a baby shower, at her home, to bring a wash clothand soap. They thought she was nuts, until she told them why. She called her Dentist and Doctor's offices and asked what kind of medicines would be needed to help out in a poverty area.She collected toothbrushes, bandages, etc....until she had suitcases full of thingsto take to Cairo with her. Her goal was to do her part to help.Atira was going with a group on her next trip to Egypt so she asked some of the other members in the tour group to help by bringing used children's clothing , pencils, and children's books with them to be given to this caring Nun Sister E.Eight other people were kind enough to collect and bring pens, coloring books, clothes, and various toys, to help.On their arrival in Cairo, not knowing what to do with the mountain of supplies for the Nun. She asked the hotel manager if he could try and locate this healer of the poor, and within days, he had located the Nun. But the Nun was out of the country and would not be back until Atira had returned to Seattle.The Hotel Manager said he would store the goods and present them to the Sister E for Atira.But, that is not the miracle part. The miracle is how one person can effect the lives of others, how our intentions lead us to miracles.The hotel manager shared the story of Atira's kind gesture,with other members of the tour.As it turned out there were two people, who worked with World Wide Health Care Project for the Poor. They had never heard of Sister E. and her plight to help the poor.These men stayed in Cairo longer than Atira could, and were there when the goods from Atira were collected by Sister E.These men ended up talking to Sister E. They were able to get her funding for a Health Care Clinic. When the hotel manager saw Sister E he realized that she often had come into the hotel to use the phone, and he just did not know who she was.And now, she has FREE phone privileges in his hotel.Atira wanted to help in a small way....this story makes my heart smile and I hope it does yours too. Helping in whatever way you can help makes miracles unfold for others.P.S.Atira still travels to Egypt regularity. She always tries to take something to help Sister E. It was three years before Atira was able to meet Sister E. In person. It was a wonderful meeting with heart felt thanks and a new found friendship. The last time she was there the 66 children needed only $75 extra for vaccinations, and Atira paid for these children. This is one of the finest woman I know. She did get to help in a greater way than she could have ever imagined.
No further information is available about the author, Artia, or Sister E.
Atria's Amazing Miracle
Author unknown
Atira was watching the TV show 20/20 in her living room in Seattle. The show was about a Nun, in Egypt, that was dedicating her retirement years to the garbage-dump-city in CAIRO. Atira has an Egyptian import business. When she saw the show of the Nun and her works for the poor and homeless at the garbage dump city, Atira knew she had to help. Atira ordered the transcript from the TV show and set out to see what she could do to help.Atira asked everyone coming to a baby shower, at her home, to bring a wash clothand soap. They thought she was nuts, until she told them why. She called her Dentist and Doctor's offices and asked what kind of medicines would be needed to help out in a poverty area.She collected toothbrushes, bandages, etc....until she had suitcases full of thingsto take to Cairo with her. Her goal was to do her part to help.Atira was going with a group on her next trip to Egypt so she asked some of the other members in the tour group to help by bringing used children's clothing , pencils, and children's books with them to be given to this caring Nun Sister E.Eight other people were kind enough to collect and bring pens, coloring books, clothes, and various toys, to help.On their arrival in Cairo, not knowing what to do with the mountain of supplies for the Nun. She asked the hotel manager if he could try and locate this healer of the poor, and within days, he had located the Nun. But the Nun was out of the country and would not be back until Atira had returned to Seattle.The Hotel Manager said he would store the goods and present them to the Sister E for Atira.But, that is not the miracle part. The miracle is how one person can effect the lives of others, how our intentions lead us to miracles.The hotel manager shared the story of Atira's kind gesture,with other members of the tour.As it turned out there were two people, who worked with World Wide Health Care Project for the Poor. They had never heard of Sister E. and her plight to help the poor.These men stayed in Cairo longer than Atira could, and were there when the goods from Atira were collected by Sister E.These men ended up talking to Sister E. They were able to get her funding for a Health Care Clinic. When the hotel manager saw Sister E he realized that she often had come into the hotel to use the phone, and he just did not know who she was.And now, she has FREE phone privileges in his hotel.Atira wanted to help in a small way....this story makes my heart smile and I hope it does yours too. Helping in whatever way you can help makes miracles unfold for others.P.S.Atira still travels to Egypt regularity. She always tries to take something to help Sister E. It was three years before Atira was able to meet Sister E. In person. It was a wonderful meeting with heart felt thanks and a new found friendship. The last time she was there the 66 children needed only $75 extra for vaccinations, and Atira paid for these children. This is one of the finest woman I know. She did get to help in a greater way than she could have ever imagined.
No further information is available about the author, Artia, or Sister E.
Author unknown
Atira was watching the TV show 20/20 in her living room in Seattle. The show was about a Nun, in Egypt, that was dedicating her retirement years to the garbage-dump-city in CAIRO. Atira has an Egyptian import business. When she saw the show of the Nun and her works for the poor and homeless at the garbage dump city, Atira knew she had to help. Atira ordered the transcript from the TV show and set out to see what she could do to help.Atira asked everyone coming to a baby shower, at her home, to bring a wash clothand soap. They thought she was nuts, until she told them why. She called her Dentist and Doctor's offices and asked what kind of medicines would be needed to help out in a poverty area.She collected toothbrushes, bandages, etc....until she had suitcases full of thingsto take to Cairo with her. Her goal was to do her part to help.Atira was going with a group on her next trip to Egypt so she asked some of the other members in the tour group to help by bringing used children's clothing , pencils, and children's books with them to be given to this caring Nun Sister E.Eight other people were kind enough to collect and bring pens, coloring books, clothes, and various toys, to help.On their arrival in Cairo, not knowing what to do with the mountain of supplies for the Nun. She asked the hotel manager if he could try and locate this healer of the poor, and within days, he had located the Nun. But the Nun was out of the country and would not be back until Atira had returned to Seattle.The Hotel Manager said he would store the goods and present them to the Sister E for Atira.But, that is not the miracle part. The miracle is how one person can effect the lives of others, how our intentions lead us to miracles.The hotel manager shared the story of Atira's kind gesture,with other members of the tour.As it turned out there were two people, who worked with World Wide Health Care Project for the Poor. They had never heard of Sister E. and her plight to help the poor.These men stayed in Cairo longer than Atira could, and were there when the goods from Atira were collected by Sister E.These men ended up talking to Sister E. They were able to get her funding for a Health Care Clinic. When the hotel manager saw Sister E he realized that she often had come into the hotel to use the phone, and he just did not know who she was.And now, she has FREE phone privileges in his hotel.Atira wanted to help in a small way....this story makes my heart smile and I hope it does yours too. Helping in whatever way you can help makes miracles unfold for others.P.S.Atira still travels to Egypt regularity. She always tries to take something to help Sister E. It was three years before Atira was able to meet Sister E. In person. It was a wonderful meeting with heart felt thanks and a new found friendship. The last time she was there the 66 children needed only $75 extra for vaccinations, and Atira paid for these children. This is one of the finest woman I know. She did get to help in a greater way than she could have ever imagined.
No further information is available about the author, Artia, or Sister E.
A Story To Live By
by Ann Wells, Los Angeles Times
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau andlifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip.This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. Itwas exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. Theprice tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Janbought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 yearsago. 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 onthe bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed thedrawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything for a specialoccasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."I remembered those words through the funeral and the days thatfollowed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad choresthat follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the planereturning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister'sfamily lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen orheard or done. I thought about the things that she had done withoutrealizing 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 admiringthe view without fussing about the weeds in the garden.I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time incommittee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern ofexperience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these momentsnow and cherish them.I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for everyspecial event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, thefirst camellia blossom.I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is ifI look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag ofgroceries without wincing.I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardwarestores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as myparty-going friends'."Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on myvocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see andhear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have done hadshe known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take forgranted.It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knewthat my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friendswhom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn'twritten certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days.Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enoughhow much I truly love them.I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything thatwould add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when Iopen my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, everyminute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.by Ann Wells in the Los Angeles Times
by Ann Wells, Los Angeles Times
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau andlifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip.This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. Itwas exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. Theprice tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Janbought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 yearsago. 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 onthe bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed thedrawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything for a specialoccasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."I remembered those words through the funeral and the days thatfollowed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad choresthat follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the planereturning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister'sfamily lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen orheard or done. I thought about the things that she had done withoutrealizing 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 admiringthe view without fussing about the weeds in the garden.I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time incommittee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern ofexperience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these momentsnow and cherish them.I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for everyspecial event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, thefirst camellia blossom.I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is ifI look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag ofgroceries without wincing.I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardwarestores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as myparty-going friends'."Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on myvocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see andhear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have done hadshe known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take forgranted.It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knewthat my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friendswhom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn'twritten certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days.Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enoughhow much I truly love them.I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything thatwould add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when Iopen my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, everyminute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.by Ann Wells in the Los Angeles Times
A Parable Of Risk: Betting On The Here & Now
by David Zoe
Wayne had waited all of his life to begin loving, to enter into communion with all beings. It seemed to him that there was always something more to atone for before he could feel himself worthy of Love. Another act of forgiveness to go through, another bad habit to overcome, another day of meditation, one more retreat, more solitude, always, always, though, there was the waiting.
The call had resonated so deeply with him, he knew he had to follow. Where would it lead? He wasn't sure he could handle another journey and it's always accompanying dark night of the soul. He didn't want to head out again only to always be with himself, only to return to where he always is, to that place where all find themselves. Here. And that's when it deepened. It broadened, sweeping him up in waves of Love and Understanding. It was a felt sense of completeness, total and without exclusion. "Is that it", he thought? "That's all? You mean I need not go anywhere, need not do anything? And all this searching, all this time spent chasing my tail like a dog, only to find out, now, that, It never not Is, that, It Is ALL, even me, with all my insane judgements and chattering voices, sweeping emotions and compulsive desires.
At that moment time ceased. At that moment the Reality of Eternity was no longer some fancy intellectual concept but known beyond a shadow of a doubt as the only Real experience he had ever had. The doors of perception flung openly madly revealing previously hidden dimensions of the Real that he now knew were the fundaments of all Createdness. Like so much ice melting in the sun of spring his once rigid boundaries were soon to be no more. The expansion of self to Self was merely his own Essence unfolding like a thousand petaled Lotus. A fragrance, an aroma wafted all around his boundless nature. Music, celestial tones emitted from his very Self, for he was the music of the spheres, the infernal Stars, the exploding Galaxies, the plains and rivers of Light and Love that rolled through them, the Awareness was him, was All. He could now chase down dreams with the innocence of a child, wherever and whatever---even whomever--- he would place his Awareness on he would become the Essence of.
"What Love", he thought, and it would increase. "What bliss and joy, what peace and understanding, what connectedness", and it was so. The separation ceased to be. He now knew that it was his travels, his journeys, his beliefs that he had to do in order to be worthy of that had prevented him from Being his Real Self, from embracing the Totality that simply IS, that he know knew to be ALL, from the heights of joy to the depths of despair. He was never, is never, not Divine. He was never, is never, not at One with All That Is. And so long as he believed he needed to go here or there, do this or that, in order to become worthy of being Who We Always Already Are he would fail to recognize his most Real Self; the Self that is One with All, that is not separate, but is of the same substance, the same Spiritual Prescence, that constitutes all of manifest reality.
Was it a coincidence that at precisely the moment he realized it would only happen here, only happen now, It did? Was it merely an irony that when he ceased the search, the search ended, and not only ended but revealed to him what always already is the case, is the Condition of Reality? All he could do was laugh. There was no punishment needed, no judgement called for. In fact he now knew that as an Eternal One he co-created this game, this searching, these dramas, so that All might not be so bored with ItSelf.
Time wasn't an issue. Time doesn't matter to those who know Eternity. So what's the rush when you will never not Be? What's the headlong fury for when the Truth is that we have all time at our disposal, that our games have no whistle that is going to blow, that the only end to the drama comes when we choose to enact another role or choose to detach from all roles and enter once again into the Unified Field of Oneness? Judgement dropped with this understanding and Wayne knew that as he would re-enter the world of Game-players and Mask-wearers he would now allow all to play the part they believe is their's to play, he was beyond judging others, for to him he now saw the Truth; that it would merely be judgement of Self, the Self that is unassailable, the Self that is you, him and her, this and that, those and these, us and them, here and there, One and All.
We are Wayne.
by David Zoe
by David Zoe
Wayne had waited all of his life to begin loving, to enter into communion with all beings. It seemed to him that there was always something more to atone for before he could feel himself worthy of Love. Another act of forgiveness to go through, another bad habit to overcome, another day of meditation, one more retreat, more solitude, always, always, though, there was the waiting.
The call had resonated so deeply with him, he knew he had to follow. Where would it lead? He wasn't sure he could handle another journey and it's always accompanying dark night of the soul. He didn't want to head out again only to always be with himself, only to return to where he always is, to that place where all find themselves. Here. And that's when it deepened. It broadened, sweeping him up in waves of Love and Understanding. It was a felt sense of completeness, total and without exclusion. "Is that it", he thought? "That's all? You mean I need not go anywhere, need not do anything? And all this searching, all this time spent chasing my tail like a dog, only to find out, now, that, It never not Is, that, It Is ALL, even me, with all my insane judgements and chattering voices, sweeping emotions and compulsive desires.
At that moment time ceased. At that moment the Reality of Eternity was no longer some fancy intellectual concept but known beyond a shadow of a doubt as the only Real experience he had ever had. The doors of perception flung openly madly revealing previously hidden dimensions of the Real that he now knew were the fundaments of all Createdness. Like so much ice melting in the sun of spring his once rigid boundaries were soon to be no more. The expansion of self to Self was merely his own Essence unfolding like a thousand petaled Lotus. A fragrance, an aroma wafted all around his boundless nature. Music, celestial tones emitted from his very Self, for he was the music of the spheres, the infernal Stars, the exploding Galaxies, the plains and rivers of Light and Love that rolled through them, the Awareness was him, was All. He could now chase down dreams with the innocence of a child, wherever and whatever---even whomever--- he would place his Awareness on he would become the Essence of.
"What Love", he thought, and it would increase. "What bliss and joy, what peace and understanding, what connectedness", and it was so. The separation ceased to be. He now knew that it was his travels, his journeys, his beliefs that he had to do in order to be worthy of that had prevented him from Being his Real Self, from embracing the Totality that simply IS, that he know knew to be ALL, from the heights of joy to the depths of despair. He was never, is never, not Divine. He was never, is never, not at One with All That Is. And so long as he believed he needed to go here or there, do this or that, in order to become worthy of being Who We Always Already Are he would fail to recognize his most Real Self; the Self that is One with All, that is not separate, but is of the same substance, the same Spiritual Prescence, that constitutes all of manifest reality.
Was it a coincidence that at precisely the moment he realized it would only happen here, only happen now, It did? Was it merely an irony that when he ceased the search, the search ended, and not only ended but revealed to him what always already is the case, is the Condition of Reality? All he could do was laugh. There was no punishment needed, no judgement called for. In fact he now knew that as an Eternal One he co-created this game, this searching, these dramas, so that All might not be so bored with ItSelf.
Time wasn't an issue. Time doesn't matter to those who know Eternity. So what's the rush when you will never not Be? What's the headlong fury for when the Truth is that we have all time at our disposal, that our games have no whistle that is going to blow, that the only end to the drama comes when we choose to enact another role or choose to detach from all roles and enter once again into the Unified Field of Oneness? Judgement dropped with this understanding and Wayne knew that as he would re-enter the world of Game-players and Mask-wearers he would now allow all to play the part they believe is their's to play, he was beyond judging others, for to him he now saw the Truth; that it would merely be judgement of Self, the Self that is unassailable, the Self that is you, him and her, this and that, those and these, us and them, here and there, One and All.
We are Wayne.
by David Zoe
An Angel Story
Hi
I wanted to share this angel story with you.
I had put a package of the angel sprinkles (the small gold colored foil angels) in my purse after one of the Psychic Fairs. The package was opened and the angels fell out into my purse. When I discovered what had happened, I put the loose angels into my coin purse. (a little change purse - inside my purse.)
On the way home, I was at the store paying for something and change was required. I dug in, got the change, gave it to the sales person. I did not realize that there were also angels stuck in with the money!
Well she said: "Oh angels for me! Thank you! Come back and see me anytime!"
This happened to me several times that day, with almost the same reaction at different places, with different people. So now I keep the angels in there and always dispense them with the change.
This little practice has led to some interesting conversations - for instance, when I did go back to the same store that the lady received the first angels. She told me how much she treasured them and kept them by her bed. She said she gave one to her daughter too.
She then told me about her personal healing experience. She said: "I don't usually tell people this but, I was paralyzed as a child. I could not walk or talk. My grandparents were very devout and my grandfather told me that if I really believed in God and Holy Mother Mary that I would be healed. He said that God was inside me and if my faith was strong enough I would be well.
Well, I believed him, he was my grandfather.
I started praying, I really believed. Within a year I was totally healed!
I am so grateful to God for this healing!"
I then gave her some more angel sprinkles, and again she acted like I had given her a million dollars! She also told me that the first time she saw me that she thought that I was an angel! (blush.....) She said that she could feel the energy and it made her turn around and look at me. I told her that if she felt anything through me - that it was God; I was only the instrument.
What a lovely experience!
I plan on always keeping the little gold angels in my change purse and dispensing them everywhere. When I do, I don't say anything, I just give them with the change.
Rev. Mary
Hi
I wanted to share this angel story with you.
I had put a package of the angel sprinkles (the small gold colored foil angels) in my purse after one of the Psychic Fairs. The package was opened and the angels fell out into my purse. When I discovered what had happened, I put the loose angels into my coin purse. (a little change purse - inside my purse.)
On the way home, I was at the store paying for something and change was required. I dug in, got the change, gave it to the sales person. I did not realize that there were also angels stuck in with the money!
Well she said: "Oh angels for me! Thank you! Come back and see me anytime!"
This happened to me several times that day, with almost the same reaction at different places, with different people. So now I keep the angels in there and always dispense them with the change.
This little practice has led to some interesting conversations - for instance, when I did go back to the same store that the lady received the first angels. She told me how much she treasured them and kept them by her bed. She said she gave one to her daughter too.
She then told me about her personal healing experience. She said: "I don't usually tell people this but, I was paralyzed as a child. I could not walk or talk. My grandparents were very devout and my grandfather told me that if I really believed in God and Holy Mother Mary that I would be healed. He said that God was inside me and if my faith was strong enough I would be well.
Well, I believed him, he was my grandfather.
I started praying, I really believed. Within a year I was totally healed!
I am so grateful to God for this healing!"
I then gave her some more angel sprinkles, and again she acted like I had given her a million dollars! She also told me that the first time she saw me that she thought that I was an angel! (blush.....) She said that she could feel the energy and it made her turn around and look at me. I told her that if she felt anything through me - that it was God; I was only the instrument.
What a lovely experience!
I plan on always keeping the little gold angels in my change purse and dispensing them everywhere. When I do, I don't say anything, I just give them with the change.
Rev. Mary
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