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This is a great quote from an article on learning to appreciate life at http://www.lifewithhappiness.com/2009/12/the-point-is-to-live-the-question/
"I beg you…to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms of books written in a very foreign language..."
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What is it that you look forward to each day? I can think of one answer that works for everyday and everyone...finding something that makes you smile. In today's world, these moments are lacking and too far in between. With the daily struggles, pace and demands of the lives we lead, it is too easy to overlook moments that could make you smile. I know this is true for me right now. Sometimes it can be so simple...even just watching a child laugh or play, can bring me a smile.
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When I was applying for my summer job, I asked my boss from my previous job to write a recommendation and send it to the woman interviewing me. The email got lost in cyberspace, so I asked her to resend it, and she sent it to me too just in case. I couldn't believe how nice it was! I was really stressed out about finding a job, and her recommendation helped me calm down a lot.
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I'm a teacher, and last year I had a rough time in one of my classes because of a group of very cliquey and difficult students. By the end of the year, I felt really defeated and frustrated that the class had been so derailed by the meanness and conniving. Yesterday, I happened to run into one student from that class in the grocery store. She greeted me with a big smile and said that even though she didn't talk much in class, she really enjoyed it and learned a lot. Even though I knew there were still a lot of problems in that class I hadn't solved very well, it made my day to know that at least this one student had gotten something out of it!
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There came a time in my life after I was 45. I had to choose a different career as the other one on my dad's business ended with a lot of pain. I saw an ad in the paper that said "Why not be a Writer?" I decided I too will be one and enrolled at The Writers Bureau of London.They taught me the basics of writing and publishing from sentence structure onwards. Soon I started writing publishable material and proudly sent them to many publishers. And then came the rejection slips. They were plenty. Until one day, our local paper bought one of my articles for Rs500 (10$!) I could not believe it when I received the check in the mail. I kept looking at it for days without even depositing the check in the bank. I even showed my check to my ailing dad in bed who wondered "why the hell is this chap so happy?"
Today I am 60 and I write and publish everywhere. My dad is no more. That first payment was the most glorious moment of my writing career!
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I use to be a wild party animal who was more known for partying and being social than being responsible or noble. Well, one night at a going away party for my trip to Las Vegas to meet my Father, I was very drunk as I was usually, I hooked up with a cute no good girl, which was not unusual for me either, but while a month or so into partying in Las Vegas I recieved a phone call from this girl "Dizzy" . Dizzy muttered the words that normally send shivers up any man's spine , but surprisingly sent me to enlightment as she said "I'm Pregenant". I thought about my father and how I was out there to meet the man that wasn't there in my life and I thought about how I deserved to get to know him. And then it hit me the thought that my child deserved the right to know me and that there might be something positive I could teach this child and instill something good in this child. All of this was 5 1/2 years ago. I am now a sober single father who has fought for custody and have been very successful both professionally and personally. I have 75% custody of a beautiful and hillarious space cadet named Alexis who I continue to raise each and everyday.
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Like most everyone, my young six year old son and I were on a budget this summer. No new mouse ears and no new found seashells. I'd finished the supper dishes, my son already in a daze before the television. What a waste of summer I thought as I picked up the phone to call one of my three sister's. I told her of my blues and the guilt I felt that no big trip could be planned. Much to my surprise she quickly reminded me of my birth order in our family and how I, the oldest and the bossiest, made sure all us girls had plenty to do over our long summer breaks, whether they wanted to do it or not. "Oh good lord, that was forty years ago", I told her, "kids aren't interest in broomstick ponies, mud pies or homemade big black trash bag slip-n-slides". "Well maybe not" she said, "but there's always my favorite, and I still do it . . . guess". Not wanting to play her guessing game, I reminded her that the men with the white coat with sleeves that tie in the back, and rooms with padded walls still exist, and hoped she wasn't doing her favorite thing in plain view of her neighbors. "Goober", she said. It's important that I add here we weren't allowed to call each other or even use the word "goober" when we were children, as even the whisper of the word magically produced a hickory switch in my mother's hand. We're all in our forties now, and purposely sneak in a "goober" or two when our mother is around. The hickory switch is gone, and it doesn’t help that our father snickers with us now instead of backing her up, but she can still turn our four names into a one syllable word "MaryKatherineMargaretFrancis" if we ruffle her feathers.
My sister then asked if I remember what happened at dusk in the pecan groves. "Oh yes!" I told her, "but are they still around? I never see them". She promised they were. I waited for dusk and I asked my son to join me out side. Our first stop was the shed to get an old mason jar with small holes punched out on the lid. From there we walked down to the edge of the woods, sat down and waited. “What are we doing mama”, my son asked. “Just wait baby, you’ll see”, I told him. It didn’t take long for my old friends to show up. My son’s gasp welcomed them and I was six years old again. My baby sister reminded me that our best memories aren’t always made in amusement parks or week long trips, they can happen in our own back yard. For the remainder of that summer, when the sun went down, my son and I went to our special place where we chased, caught and danced with the lightning bugs.
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When any one of my four grand-daughters call me just to say they love me, it makes my day. They are truly the joys of my life.
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I always call my grandmother at least once a day. I enjoy asking her about her day, telling her about mine, and sharing stories and ideas with her. She is an extremely positive force in my life, and I cherish every second I spend talking to her. It makes my day so much brighter every time I talk to her, and I know she enjoys having someone to talk to as well.
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Peanut butter + spoon. Need I say more? (Apparently, yes, as this was almost rejected for being too short...)
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