Touching Stories

evodarren SG

All The Good Things

He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful.

Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving. "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at him and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"

It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."

At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instructions in the "new math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third.

One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much!"

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip, the weather, and my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and simply says, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."

Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend."

I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me.

The church was packed with Mark's friends. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.

I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chucks farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that." Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."

Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put this in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists."

That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

The purpose of this story is to encourage everyone to compliment the people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the importance of showing our affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things, could mean the most to another. Please spread this story around and spread the message and encouragement, to express your love and caring by complimenting and being open with communication. The density of people in society is so thick, that we forget that life will end one day and we don't know when that one day will be. Tell them, before it is too late.

evodarren SG

The Circus

Once, when I was a teenager, my father and I were standing in line to buy tickets for the circus. Finally, there was only one family between us and the ticket counter.

This family made a big impression on me. There were eight children, all probably under the age of 12. You could tell they didn't have a lot of money.

Their clothes were not expensive, but they were clean. The children were well-behaved, all of them standing in line, two-by-two behind their parents, holding hands. They were excitedly jabbering about the clowns, elephants, and other acts they would see that night.

One could sense they had never been to the circus before. It promised to be a highlight of their young lives. The father and mother were at the head of the pack, standing proud as could be.

The mother was holding her husband's hand, looking up at him as if to say, "You're my knight in shining armor."

He was smiling and basking in pride, looking back at her as if to reply, "You got that right."

The ticket lady asked the father how many tickets he wanted. He proudly responded, "Please let me buy eight children's tickets and two adult tickets so I can take my family to the circus."

The ticket lady quoted the price. The man's wife let go of his hand, her head dropped, his lip began to quiver. The father leaned a little closer and asked, "How much did you say?"

The ticket lady again quoted the price. The man didn't have enough money.

How was he supposed to turn and tell his eight kids that he didn't have enough money to take them to the circus? Seeing what was going on, my dad put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a $20 bill and dropped it on the ground. (We were not wealthy in any sense of the word!)

My father reached down, picked up the bill, tapped the man on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, sir, this fell out of your pocket."

The man knew what was going on. He wasn't begging for a handout but certainly appreciated the help in a desperate, heartbreaking, embarrassing situation. He looked straight into my dad's eyes, took my dad's hand in both of his, squeezed tightly onto the $20 bill, and with his lip quivering and a tear running down his cheek, he replied, "Thank you, thank you, sir. This really means a lot to me and my family."

My father and I went back to our car and drove home. We didn't go to the circus that night, but we didn't go without.

StarShinef SG

Rolling Eyes

evodarren SG

Keep On Singing

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 find out that the new baby is going to be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sings to his sister in Mommy's tummy.

The pregnancy progresses normally for Karen, an active member of the Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee. Then the labor pains come. Every five minutes, every minute. But complications arise during delivery. Hours of labor. Would a C-section be required?

Finally, Michael's little sister is born. But she is in serious condition. With siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushes the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee. The days inch by. The little girl gets worse. The pediatric specialist tells the parents, "There is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst."

Karen and her husband contact a local cemetery about a burial plot. They have fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby now they plan a funeral. Michael, keeps begging his parents to let him see his sister, "I want to sing to her," he says.

Week two in intensive care. It looks as if a funeral will come before the week is over. Michael keeps nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in Intensive Care. But Karen makes up her mind. She will take Michael whether they like it or not. If he doesn't see his sister now, he may never see her alive.

She dresses him in an oversized scrub suit and marches him into ICU. He looks like a walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognizes him as a child and bellows, "Get that kid out of here now! No children are allowed. The mother rises up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glares steel-eyed into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line.

"He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!"

Karen tows Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazes at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. And he begins to sing. In the pure hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sings:

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray..."

Instantly the baby girl responds. The pulse rate becomes calm and steady.

Keep on singing, Michael.

"You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away..."

The ragged, strained breathing becomes as smooth as a kitten's purr.

Keep on singing, Michael.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms..."

Michael's little sister relaxes as rest, healing rest, seems to sweep over her.

Keep on singing, Michael.

Tears conquer the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glows.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't, take my sunshine away."

Funeral plans are scrapped. The next day, the very next day, the little girl is well enough to go home! Woman'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.

evodarren SG

Father's Eyes

Bob Richards, the former pole-vault champion, shares a moving story about a skinny young boy who loved football with all his heart. Practice after practice, he eagerly gave everything he had. But being half the size of the other boys, he got absolutely nowhere. At all the games, this hopeful athlete sat on the bench and hardly ever played. This teenager lived alone with his father, and the two of them had a very special relationship.

Even though the son was always on the bench, his father was always in the stands cheering. He never missed a game. This young man was still the smallest of the class when he entered high school. But his father continued to encourage him but also made it very clear that he did not have to play football if he didn't want to. But the young man loved football and decided to hang in there. He was determined to try his best at every practice, and perhaps he'd get to play when he became a senior.

All through high school he never missed a practice nor a game but remained a bench-warmer all four years. His faithful father was always in the stands, always with words of encouragement for him.

When the young man went to college, he decided to try out for the football team as a "walk-on." Everyone was sure he could never make the cut, but he did. The coach admitted that he kept him on the roster because he always puts his heart and soul to every practice, and at the same time, provided the other members with the spirit and hustle they badly needed.

The news that he had survived the cut thrilled him so much that he rushed to the nearest phone and called his father. His father shared his excitement and was sent season tickets for all the college games. This persistent young athlete never missed practice during his four years at college, but he never got to play in a game.

It was the end of his senior football season, and as he trotted onto the practice field shortly before the big playoff game, the coach met him with a telegram. The young man read the telegram and he became deathly silent.

Swallowing hard, he mumbled to the coach, "My father died this morning. Is it all right if I miss practice today?" The coach put his arm gently around his shoulder and said, "Take the rest of the week off, son. And don't even plan to come back to the game on Saturday."

Saturday arrived, and the game was not going well. In the third quarter, when the team was ten points behind, a silent young man quietly slipped into the empty locker room and put on his football gear. As he ran onto the sidelines, the coach and his players were astounded to see their faithful teammate back so soon. "Coach, please let me play. I've just got to play today," said the young man. The coach pretended not to hear him. There was no way he wanted is worst player in this close playoff game.

But the young man persisted, and finally feeling sorry for the kid, the coach gave in. "All right," he said. "You can go in." Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before was doing everything right. The opposing team could not stop him. He ran, he passed, blocked, and tackled like a star.

His team began to triumph. The score was soon tied. In the closing seconds of the game, this kid intercepted a pass and ran all the way for the winning touchdown. The fans broke loose. His teammates hoisted him onto their shoulders. Such cheering you never heard.

Finally, after the stands had emptied and the team had showered and left the locker room, the coach noticed that this young man was sitting quietly in the corner all alone. The coach came to him and said, "Kid, I can't believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you? How did you do it?"

He looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Well, you knew my dad died, but did you know that my dad was blind?" The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, "Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!"

sgboy2004 SG

so lllloooonnngggg Sad

evodarren SG

Buying Time

The man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to find his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door.

"Daddy, may I ask you a question?" "Yeah, sure, what is it?" replied the man.

"Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?" "That's none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?" the man said angrily.

"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?" pleaded the little boy.

"If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour."

"Oh," the little boy replied, head bowed. Looking up, he said, "Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?"

The father was furious. "If the only reason you wanted to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you're being so selfish. I work long, hard hours everyday and don't have time for such childish games."

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.

The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy's questioning. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money. After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son. Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10.00, and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.

"Are you asleep son?" he asked.

"No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.

"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the man. "It's been a long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here's that $10.00 you asked for."

The little boy sat straight up, beaming. "Oh, thank you daddy!" he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up bills.

The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the man.

"Why did you want more money if you already had some?" the father grumbled.

"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.

"Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?"

A Beautiful Mind SG

The umbrella story

This mornin i went to the mkt to buy a packet of wanton mee. The auntie say"Very long ahh.. must wait"
I replied "ya la ya la ok.."

Aft waitin a long time.. my wanton mee was finally ready. Then it started pouring heavily. As i was preparing to leave, the auntie asked " Wher u stay??"
Then she handed me an umbrella...

Ayukat SG

? Whats the meaning?

Danisdead101times SG

wow...such a long story... Rolling Eyes

evodarren SG

The Story Of Jin and Jo

I have a boyfriend who grew up with me. His name is Jin. I always thought of him as a friend until last year, when we went to a trip from a club. I found that I fell in love with him. Before that trip was over, I took a step and confessed my love for him and soon, we became a pair of lovers, but we loved each other in different ways.

I always concentrated on him only, but by his side, there were so many other girls. To me, he was the only one, but to him, maybe I was just another girl.

"Jin, do you want to go watch a movie?" I asked.

Jin: "I can't."

Me: "Why? You need to study at home? I felt disappointment grabbing me."

Jin: "No. I am going to meet a friend."

He was always like that. He met girls in front of me, like it was nothing. To him, I was just a girlfriend. The word "love" only came out from my mouth. Since I knew him, I had never heard him say "I love you" before. To us, there weren't any anniversaries at all. He didn't say anything from the first day and it continued till 100 days, 200days. Everyday, before we say goodbye, he would just hand me a doll, everyday, without fail. I don't know why. Then one day...

Me: "Um, Jin, I..."

Jin: "What? Don't drag, just say."

Me: "I love you."

Jin: "You... Um, just take this doll and go home."

That was how he ignored my three words and handed me the doll. Then he disappeared, like he was running away. The dolls I received from him everyday filled my room, one by one. There were many. Then one day came, my 15th year old birthday. When I got up in the morning, I pictured a party with him, and stranded myself in my room, waiting for his call.

But lunch passed, dinner passed and soon the sky was dark, he still didn't call. It was already tiring to look at the phone anymore. Then around 2AM in the morning, he suddenly called me and woke me from my sleep. He told me to come out of the house. Still, I felt joy and I ran out happily.

Me: "Jin..."

Jin: "Here. Take this."

Again, he handed me a little doll.

Me: "What's this?"

Jin: "I didn't give it to you yesterday, so I am giving it to you now. I'm going home now, bye."

Me: "Wait, wait! Do you know what today is?"

Jin: "Today? Huh?"

I felt so sad, I thought he would remember my birthday. He turned around and walked away like nothing had happen. Then I shouted. "Wait..."

Jin: "You have something to say?"

Me: "Tell me, tell me you love me."

Jin: "What?"

Me: "Tell me."

I put my pathetic self behind and clung on to him. But he just said simple cold words and left.

Jin: "I don't want to say that I love someone so easily, if you are desperate to hear it, then find someone else."

That was what he said. Then he ran off. My legs felt numb and I collapsed to the ground. He didn't want to say it easily. How could he! I felt that maybe he is not the right guy for me. After that day, I stranded myself at home crying, just crying. He didn't call me, although I was waiting. He just continued handing me a little doll every morning outside my house. That's how those dolls piled up in my room everyday.

After a month, I got myself together and went to school. But what made the pain resurface was that I saw him on a street with another girl. He had a smile on his face, one that he never showed me as he touched the doll. I ran straight back home and looked at the dolls in my room, and tears fell.

Me: "Why did he gave these to me?"

Those dolls are probably picked out by some other girls. In a fit of anger, I threw the dolls around. Then suddenly, the phone rang. It was him. He told me to come out to the bus stop outside my house. I tried to calm myself down and walked to the bus stop. I kept reminding myself that I am going to forget him, that it's going to end. Then he came into my sight, holding a big doll.

Jin: "Jo, I thought you were pissed, you really came?"

I couldn't help hating him, acting like nothing had happen and joking around. Soon, he held out the doll as usual.

Me: "I don't need it."

Jin: "What? why?"

I grabbed the doll from his hands and threw it on the road.

Me: "I don't need this doll, I don't need it anymore! I don't want to see a person like you again!"

I spitted out all the words that were inside me. But unlike other days, his eyes very shaking.

Jin: "I'm sorry."

He apologized in a tiny voice. He then walked over to the road to pick up the doll.

Me: "You stupid! Why are you picking up the doll? Just throw it away!"

But he ignored me and just went to pick the doll. Then... Honk~ Honk~ with a loud honk, a big truck was heading towards him.

"Jin! Move! Move away!" I shouted.

But he didn't hear me, he squatted down and picked up the doll.

Me: "Jin, move!"

HONK~

*Boom!* That sound, so terrifying. That's how he went away from me. That's how he went away without even opening his eyes to say one word to me. After that day, I had to go through everyday with guiltiness and the sadness of losing him and after spending two months like a crazy person I took out the dolls. Those were the only gifts he left me since the day we started going out. I remembered the days I spent with him and started to count the days when we were in love.

"One... two... three..." That was how I started to count the dolls. "Four hundred and eighty four... four hundred and eighty five." It all ended with 485 dolls. I then started to cry again, with a doll in my arms. I hugged it tightly, then suddenly.

"I love you~, I love you~"

I dropped the dolls, shocked.

"I...lo..ve..you?"

I picked up the dolls and pressed its stomach.

"I love you~ I love you~"

It can't be! I pressed all the dolls' stomach as it piled on the side.

"I love you~" "I love you~" "I love you~"

Those words came out non-stop.

"I love you~"

Why didn't I realize that? That his heart was always by my side, protecting me. Why didn't I realize that he love me this much. I took out the doll under the bed and pressed it's stomach, that was the last doll, the one that fell on the road. It had his blood stain on it. The voice came out, the on that I was missing so much.

"Jo... Do you know what today is? We've been loving each other for 486 days. Do you know what 486 is? I couldn't say I love you.... Um... Since I was too shy. If you forgive me and take this doll, I will say that I love you everyday till I die... Jo... I love you!"

The tears came flowing out of me. Why? Why? I asked. God, why do I only know about all this now? He can't be by my side, but he loved me until his last minute for that and for that reason to me it became courage to live a beautiful life.

It's better to lose your pride with someone you love rather than lose someone that you love with your useless pride!

evodarren SG

Unselfish Love

There was once this guy who is very much in love with his girl. This romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of paper cranes as a gift to his girl. Although, at that time he was just a small fry in his company, his future doesn't seem too bright, they were very happy together. Until one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come back. She also told him that she cannot visualize any future for the both of them, so they went their own ways there and then.

Heartbroken, the guy agreed. But when he regained his confidence, he worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make something out of himself. Finally with all the hard work and the help of friends, this guy had set up his own company.

One rainy day, while this guy was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain walking to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still drenched. It didn't take him long to realize they were his girl's parents. With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan.

He wanted them to know that he wasn't the same anymore, he had his own company, car, condo, etc. He made it! What he saw next confused him, the couple was walking towards a cemetery, and so he got out of his car and followed and he saw his girl, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as ever at him from her tombstone and he saw his paper cranes right beside her.

Her parents saw him. He asked them why had this happened. They explained. She did not leave for France at all. She was ill with cancer. She had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not want to be his obstacle. Therefore she had chosen to leave him. Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. She had wanted her parents to put his paper cranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him to her again, he can take some of those back with him. Once you have loved, you will always love. For what's in your mind may escape but what's in your heart will remain forever.

The guy just wept. The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right besides her knowing you can't have her, see her or be with her ever again. Hope you understand.

* Find time to realize that there is one person who means so much to you, for you might wake up one morning losing that person who you thought meant nothing to you.

evodarren SG

Rewards and Risks Of Personal Freedom

One of the first things I noticed about my newly purchased parrot was that he couldn't fly. Chico's wings had been clipped and he was stuck here on earth just like us humans.

Once the weather turned nice I took Chico and sat him on a branch of a tree in my backyard, hoping to make him happier. At first he seemed confused. He walked back and forth on the branch looking like an agitated father pacing back and forth in the maternity waiting room. I was surprised to see that he didn't flap his wings in an attempt to fly. Somehow he knew he was incapable. I always wondered how he knew such a thing.

One day, while sitting on his branch, Chico got way more agitated than he had been when I first took him outside months ago. He was pacing back and forth and talking up a storm. Then all of a sudden, he stopped pacing, let out a spine tingling scream, and started madly flapping his wings for the first time ever. About three seconds later, he lifted off from the branch like the space shuttle at Cape Canaveral! I was amazed and shocked. Little did I know his feathers had been growing back in, and just like a sly convict, Chico had been biding his time until the moment was ripe for escape!

Chico made his break for freedom on a late Monday afternoon, and by late Monday night I knew he was not coming home. Finally, on Tuesday evening Chico returned, but stayed way out of reach. I talked to him and showed him some food, but to no avail. Then I took his cage inside so he would not relate coming back to getting locked up again. Finally, I made him a firm promise that if he did come back I would let him out every day the weather was nice. Shortly after making my solemn oath, he flew onto my shoulder and I took him upstairs.

From that day on, whenever the weather was good I would let him out early and he would fly around and be back before dark. This routine lasted for about two months and then suddenly Chico became ill. The vet said that he had contracted a disease from the pigeons in the neighborhood. Within a few days he died, and I mourned his loss.

Just once the thought crossed my mind that if I had not set him free to fly every day, he would still be alive. It was then that I realized that the quality of one's life is much more important than the number of years one lives. What sense is there in being a bird if you can't fly?

Chico made his initial break for freedom on a late Monday afternoon in April. When will you make yours? You too can take a chance when the conditions are right, knowing you too in your own way, we're built to fly. If you don't set yourself free, what will be the purpose of your life?

I would suggest that the quality of one's life is dependant on feeling one's essence, and living the design that is you. If you are a fish, your life needs to be all about swimming. If you are a bird, your life needs to be all about flying and spreading your message to all that you meet along the way. What sense is there in being you, if you don't really let yourself free and express your heart?

FeowFeow SG

So many stories, but all so sad Sad

Made me teary Sad

FeowFeow

[email protected]_arms SG

Touching story for the lame;

once upon a time there was this perverted boy.. and this perverted ger, everyday touch her touch there, scully touch until the ger angry then slap the boy, then the boy stop touching then..

ok ok i cant continue writing its making my skin crawl ROFL!(*&!$Y!

haha
Laughing

evodarren SG

A 100 Days Love Story

Peter and Tina are sitting in the park doing nothing, but just gazing into the sky, while all their friends are having fun with their beloved half.

Tina: I'm so bored. Just wish I have a boyfriend now to spend time with.

Peter: I guess we're the only leftovers. We're the only person who isn't with a date now. (Both sigh and silence for a while)

Tina: I think I have a good idea. Let's play a game.

Peter: Eh? What game?

Tina: Erm... It's quite simple. You be my boyfriend for 100 days and I'll be your girlfriend for 100 days. What do you think?

Peter: Okay. Anyway I don't have any plan for the next few months.

Tina: You sound like you aren't looking forward to it at all. Cheer up. Today will be our first day and our first date. Where should we go?

Peter: What about a movie? I heard that there is a really great movie in theater now.

Tina: Seems like I don't have any better idea than this. Let's move. (Went to watch their movies and sent each other home)

Day 2: Peter and Tina went to a concert together, and Peter bought Tina a keychain with a star.

Day 3: They went shopping together for a friend's birthday present. Share an ice-cream together and hugged each other for the first time.

Day 7: Peter drove Tina up onto a mountain and they watch the sunset together. When the night came and the moon glowed, they said sat on the grass gazing at the stars together. A meteor passed by. Tina mumbled something.

Day 25: Spend time at a theme park and got onto roller coasters, and ate hotdogs and cotton candy. Peter and Tina got in the haunted house and Tina grabbed someone's hand instead of Peter's hand by accident. They laughed together for a while.

Day 67: They drove pass a circus and decided to get in to watch the show. The midget asked Tina to play a part as his assistant in the magic show. Went around to see other entertainments around after the show. Came to a fortune teller and she just said, "Treasure every moment from now on" and a tear rolled down the fortune teller's cheek.

Day 84: Tina suggested that they go to the beach. The beach wasn't so crowded that day. They have their first kiss with each other just as the sun is setting.

Day 99: They decided to have a simple day and are deciding to have a walk around the city. They sit down onto a bench.

1:23 pm

Tina: I'm thirsty. Let's rest for a while first.

Peter: Wait here while I go buy some drinks. What would you like?

Tina: Erm... Apple juice will be just fine.

1:43 pm

Tina waiting for about 20 minutes and Peter haven't return. Then someone walked up to her.

Stranger: Is your name Tina?

Tina: Yes, and may I help you?

Stranger: Just now down there on the street a drunk driver has crashed into a guy. I think it's your friend.

Tina ran over to the spot with the stranger and sees Peter lying on the floor with blood over his face and her apple juice still in his hands. The ambulance came and she went to the hospital with Peter. Tina sat outside the emergency room for five and a half hours. The doctor came out, and he sigh.

11:51 pm

Doctor: I'm sorry, but we did the best we could. He is still breathing now but God would take him away from us very soon. We found this letter inside his pocket.

The doctor hands over the letter to Tina and she goes into the room to see Peter. He looks weak but peaceful. Tina read the letter and then she burst into tears. Here is what the letter said.

Tina, our 100 days is almost over. I had fun with you during all these days. Although you may be greedy sometimes and less thoughtful, but these all brought happiness into my life. I have realized that you are a really cute girl and blamed myself for never taken the time to knowing that. I have nothing much to ask for.

* Be sensitive to your surroundings. Things happen in a flash sometimes too fast for you to notice but they only appears once.

evodarren SG

A Teacher's Lesson

There 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 of her "teacher's pets."

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still 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."

dumbdumb! SG

What goes around, comes around

He almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out.

His 20-year-old Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her. Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you.

He said, "I'm here to help you ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan." Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough.; Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two.

Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and he hurt his hands. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him.

She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened, had he not stopped.

Bryan never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.

He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, "...and think of me".

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the light.

A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out-of-work actor - it didn't ring much.

Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude.

The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan. After the lady finished her meal, and the waitress went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something written on the napkin, under which were four $100 bills.

There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady had written "You don't owe me anything, I h ave been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do : Do not let this chain of love end with you."

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she arrived home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed that money? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard on both of them.

She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's going to be all right; I love you, Bryan."

dumbdumb! SG

I thought that since christmas is coming so near, a story like this would be meaningful. merry christmas everyone! Very Happy

The Filling Station (Part 1)
====================

The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve.He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away.He had no decorations, no tree, no lights. It was just anotherday to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find areason to celebrate. There were no children in his life.His wife had gone.

He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been fallingfor the last hour and wondering what it was all about when thedoor opened and a homeless man stepped through. Instead ofthrowing the man out, George, Old George as he was known byhis customers, told the man to come and sit by the spaceheater and warmup.

"Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger."I see you're busy. I'll just go"

"Not without something hot in your belly," George turned andopened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger."It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew. Made it myself.When you're done there's coffee and it's fresh."

Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell."Excuse me, be right back," George said.

There in the driveway was an old 53 Chevy. Steam was rollingout of the front. The driver was panicked.

"Mister can you help me!" said the driver with a deep Spanishaccent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken."

George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked crackedfrom the cold; the car was dead. "You ain't going in thisthing," George said as he turned away.

"But mister. Please help...."The door of the office closedbehind George as he went in. George went to the office walland got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside.He walked around the building and opened the garage, started thetruck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting.

"Here, you can borrow my truck," he said. "She ain't the bestthing you ever looked at, but she runs real good."

George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. George turned and walked back insidethe office.

"Glad I loaned em the truck. Their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new tires........" George thought he
was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The thermos was on the desk, empty with a used coffee cup beside it.

"Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought. George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator.

"Well, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on. "Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car.

As he was working he heard a shot being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Help me." George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention.

"Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The laundry company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound.

"Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease. "Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills.

"You hang in there. I'm going to get you an ambulance." George said, but the phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your police car."

He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio. He went back in to find the policeman sitting up.

"Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."

George sat down beside him. "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain."

George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked.

"None for me," said the officer.

"Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city." Then George
added: "Too bad I ain't got no donuts."

The officer laughed and winced at the same time. The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun.

"Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled.
His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.

"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.

"Son, why are you doing this?" asked George. "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt."

The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!" The cop was reaching for his gun.

"Put that thing away," George said to the cop. "We got one too many in here now."

He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need the money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pee shooter away." George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry.

"I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy
something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job. My rent is due. My car got repossessed last week..."

George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but wemake it through the best we can."

He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Being stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out."

dumbdumb! SG

The Filling Station (part 2)
====================

The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer."

"Shut up and drink your coffee." the cop said.

George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn.

"Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"

"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.

Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."

George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. "That guy works here," the wounded cop continued.

"Yep," George said. "Just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."

The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered,"Why?"

Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas, boy. And you too, George, and thanks for everything."

"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That
ought to solve some of your problems." George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box.

"Here you go. Something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."

The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you."

"And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need."

George reached into the box again. A toy airplane, a racing car and a little metal truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. Here's something for that little man of yours."

The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier. "And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that, too. Count it as part of your first week's pay." George said. "Now git home to your family."

The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."

"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after."

George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?"

"I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?"

"Well, after my wife passed away I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was getting a little chubby."

The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor.

The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will become a rich man and share his wealth with many people.

That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."

George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.

"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again." The stranger moved toward the door.

"If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned."

George watched as the man's old leather jacket and his torn pants turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room.

"You see, George, it's My birthday. Merry Christmas."