Inspirational Stories

The Color of Friendship

2009-09-28T23:28:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time the colors of the world started to quarrel.
All claimed that they were the best.
The most important.
The most useful.
The favorite.

Green said:
"Clearly I am the most important. I am the sign of life and of hope. I was chosen for grass, trees and leaves. Without me, all animals would die. Look over the countryside and you will see that I am in the majority."

Blue interrupted:
"You only think about the earth, but consider the sky and the sea. It is the water that is the basis of life and drawn up by the clouds from the deep sea. The sky gives space and peace and serenity. Without my peace, you would all be nothing."

Yellow chuckled:
"You are all so serious. I bring laughter, gaiety, and warmth into the world. The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, the stars are yellow. Every time you look at a sunflower, the whole world starts to smile. Without me there would be no fun."

Orange started next to blow her trumpet:
"I am the color of health and strength. I may be scarce, but I am precious for I serve the needs of human life. I carry the most important vitamins. Think of carrots, pumpkins, oranges, mangoes, and papayas. I don't hang around all the time, but when I fill the sky at sunrise or sunset, my beauty is so striking that no one gives another thought to any of you."

Red could stand it no longer he shouted out:
"I am the ruler of all of you. I am blood - life's blood! I am the color of danger and of bravery. I am willing to fight for a cause. I bring fire into the blood. Without me, the earth would be as empty as the moon. I am the color of passion and of love, the red rose, the poinsettia and the poppy."

Purple rose up to his full height:
He was very tall and spoke with great pomp: "I am the color of royalty and power. Kings, chiefs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey."

Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for prayer and inner peace."

And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a startling flash of bright lightening thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one another for comfort.

In the midst of the clamor, rain began to speak:
"You foolish colors, fighting amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the rest. Don't you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and different? Join hands with one another and come to me."

Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined hands.

The rain continued:
"From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The Rainbow is a sign of hope for tomorrow." And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a Rainbow appears in the sky, let us remember to appreciate one another.

A Prayer of a Dying Child

2009-09-28T23:13:00.000-07:00

Author : unknown

I woke up one morning and I was 17,
I knew the day had come
The day I prove to everyone how cool I was
The day I accepted death as my destiny

Little did I know I would regret that day
And my family who kept me alive for 17 years
Would be cursed by me for years of never ending pain

Without thinking I lit the cigarette
I knew it had to be done before the day was over
I coughed a little but I was fine

Now as I lay in bed coughing and choking
My family is beside me
My parents and my sister
I whisper in my sister's ear
"Please don't do what I did"
She just nodded her head in silence

Now as my angel holds me in his arms
I know it's time for me to go
I close my eyes and kiss him one last time
It's funny how we resent those who try to help us when we're alive
And how we beg them to save us when we're about to die
All this because of one silly cigarette
All this because someone was dumb enought to say that
Smoking is cool

Knock the "t" Off theThe "Can't"

2009-08-24T20:21:00.000-07:00

by : Neil Eskelin

Recently I took a sheet of paper and divided it into two columns: "Yes People," and "No People." Then I thought about individuals I knew and wrote their names in the appropriate column. What a shock it was to see the length of the "No" list.

These were the people who heard someone say, "You can't do that!" and they believed it. Now they were saying, "It can't be done!" and their negativity was affecting the lives of others.

If your friends made such a list right now, under which heading would they write your name? Do they see you as enthusiastic, affirmative and optimistic? Or do they believe you see more problems than solutions?

It's time to knock the "t" off the "can't." I like the words of author Frank Hughes: "I will say this about being an optimist; even when things don't turn out well, you are certain they will get better."

You are only a decision away from responding with hope instead of fear, with encouragement instead of criticism, with belief instead of despair. It's your choice!

A Friend...

2009-08-24T20:19:00.000-07:00

author : unknown

(A)ccepts you as you are
(B)elieves in "you"
(C)alls you just to say "HI"
(D)oesn't give up on you
(E)nvisions the whole of you (even the unfinished parts)
(F)orgives your mistakes
(G)ives unconditionally
(H)elps you
(I)nvites you over
(J)ust "be" with you
(K)eeps you close at heart
(L)oves you for who you are
(M)akes a difference in your life
(N)ever Judges
(O)ffer support
(P)icks you up
(Q)uiets your fears
(R)aises your spirits
(S)ays nice things about you
(T)ells you the truth when you need to hear it
(U)nderstands you
(V)alues you
(W)alks beside you
(X)-plains thing you don't understand
(Y)ells when you won't listen and
(Z)aps you back to reality

Just Five More Minutes

2009-08-24T20:15:00.000-07:00

author : unknown

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground.

“That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.

“He’s a fine looking boy” the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the white dress.”

Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “What do you say we go, Melissa?”

Melissa pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes.”

The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. “Time to go now?”

Again Melissa pleaded, “Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.”

The man smiled and said, “OK.”

“My, you certainly are a patient father,” the woman responded.

The man smiled and then said, “Her older brother Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I’d give anything for just five more minutes with him. I’ve vowed not to make the same mistake with Melissa.

She thinks she has five more minutes to ride her bike. The truth is, I get Five more minutes to watch her play.”

Life is all about making priorities, what are your priorities?
Give someone you love 5 more minutes of your time today!

FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE

2009-07-30T00:07:00.000-07:00

Love starts with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a tear.
Don't cry over anyone who won't cry over you.
Good friends are hard to find, harder to leave, and impossible to forget.
You can only go as far as you push.
Actions speak louder than words.
The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love somebody else.
Don't let the past hold you back; you're missing the good stuff.
Life's short. If you don't look around once in a while, you might miss it.
A best friend is like a four leaf clover: hard to find and lucky to have.
If you think that the world means nothing, think again. You might mean the world to someone else.
When it hurts to look back, and you're scared to look ahead, you can look beside you and your best friend will be there
True friendship never ends.
Friends are forever.
Good friends are like stars....You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.
Don't frown. You never know who is falling in love with your smile.
What do you do when the only person who can make you stop crying is the person who made you cry?
NOBODY IS PERFECT UNTIL YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH THEM. (Isn't that the truth?)
Everything is okay in the end. If it's not okay, then it's not the end.

Most people walk in and out of you life. But only True friends leave footprints in your heart.

Send this on to everyone special in your life, even the people who really make you mad sometimes. Whether we realize it or not, everyone we know is very special to us.

When we look back on our younger years, we will remember the people who went to school with us, the people who made us laugh, the people who hung out with us when nobody else would, and the people who made our lives much better simply by being a part of it.

There may be somebody who is thinking about you RIGHT NOW and wishing that you were around. That's the wonderful thing about friendship-you always feel loved and cared about.

The most important thing to remember is... Always appreciate the friends that you have.

A fight may come and go very easily, but a friendship could last forever.

For every second spent in anger, a minute of happiness is wasted. So send this to your friends and let them know that you care.

Growing Up or Growing Old

2009-07-22T20:47:00.000-07:00

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know.

I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a Smile that lit up her entire being.

She said, "Hi, handsome! My name is Rose. I'm 87 years old. Can I give you a hug?"

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze.

"Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked. She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel."

"No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

"I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop.

I was always mesmerized listening to this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her 3x5 cards on the floor.

Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, "I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order, so let me just tell you what I know." As we laughed, she cleared her throat and began:

"We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor everyday. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead, and they don't even know it!" she said.

"There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn 20 years old. If I am 87 years old, and stay in bed for a year, and never do anything, I will turn 88. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability," she added.

"The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change. Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets."

She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose." She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.

At the years end, Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep. Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.

-----------------

Remember these 'inspiring words' in loving memory of ROSE...

"GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY, GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL."

DETERMINATON

2009-07-17T03:48:00.000-07:00

In 1883, a creative engineer named John Roebling was inspired by an idea to build a spectacular bridge connecting New York with the Long Island. However bridge building experts throughout the world thought that this was an impossible feat and told Roebling to forget the idea. It just could not be done. It was not practical. It had never been done before.

Roebling could not ignore the vision he had in his mind of this bridge. He thought about it all the time and he knew deep in his heart that it could be done. He just had to share the dream with someone else. After much discussion and persuasion he managed to convince his son Washington, an up and coming engineer, that the bridge in fact could be built.

Working together for the first time, the father and son developed concepts of how it could be accomplished and how the obstacles could be overcome. With great excitement and inspiration, and the headiness of a wild challenge before them, they hired their crew and began to build their dream bridge.

The project started well, but when it was only a few months underway a tragic accident on the site took the life of John Roebling. Washington was injured and left with a certain amount of brain damage, which resulted in him not being able to walk or talk or even move.

"We told them so."
"Crazy men and their crazy dreams."
"It`s foolish to chase wild visions."

Everyone had a negative comment to make and felt that the project should be scrapped since the Roeblings were the only ones who knew how the bridge could be built. In spite of his handicap Washington was never discouraged and still had a burning desire to complete the bridge and his mind was still as sharp as ever.

He tried to inspire and pass on his enthusiasm to some of his friends, but they were too daunted by the task. As he lay on his bed in his hospital room, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, a gentle breeze blew the flimsy white curtains apart and he was able to see the sky and the tops of the trees outside for just a moment.

It seemed that there was a message for him not to give up. Suddenly an idea hit him. All he could do was move one finger and he decided to make the best use of it. By moving this, he slowly developed a code of communication with his wife.

He touched his wife's arm with that finger, indicating to her that he wanted her to call the engineers again. Then he used the same method of tapping her arm to tell the engineers what to do. It seemed foolish but the project was under way again.

For 13 years Washington tapped out his instructions with his finger on his wife's arm, until the bridge was finally completed. Today the spectacular Brooklyn Bridge stands in all its glory as a tribute to the triumph of one man's indomitable spirit and his determination not to be defeated by circumstances. It is also a tribute to the engineers and their team work, and to their faith in a man who was considered mad by half the world. It stands too as a tangible monument to the love and devotion of his wife who for 13 long years patiently decoded the messages of her husband and told the engineers what to do.

Perhaps this is one of the best examples of a never-say-die attitude that overcomes a terrible physical handicap and achieves an impossible goal.

Often when we face obstacles in our day-to-day life, our hurdles seem very small in comparison to what many others have to face. The Brooklyn Bridge shows us that dreams that seem impossible can be realised with determination and persistence, no matter what the odds are.

Even the most distant dream can be realized with determination and persistence.

Flight from the Fire: A Dramatic Condor Rescue

2009-07-16T01:51:00.000-07:00

With its hunched shoulders and bald, wrinkled head, the California condor is not much to look at up close. In flight, however, the giant scavenger transforms itself into the majestic thunderbird of Native American lore, its wingspan stretching to ten feet. The mighty birds once ranged from western Canada to Mexico, but their numbers dwindled as humans invaded their habitats. Settlers often shot condors on sight, curio collectors stole their eggs, and the birds got lead poisoning from eating bullet-riddled animal carcasses. By the mid-1980s, only nine condors remained in the wild, all in California. Today, despite a two-decade effort by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to breed the birds in captivity and release them into the wild, fewer than 175 California condors are flying free.
Wildlife biologist Joe Burnett, 38, got hooked on condors in college. For the past 13 years (except for a stint at the Oregon Zoo), he has been the condor field supervisor for the Ventana Wildlife Society, in charge of repopulating the forests of Central California with the species. Condor Joe, as the locals call him, helped Ventana build a compound in the mountains of Big Sur, with a pen for holding and training young condors. He tags them and fits them with transmitters before they're freed and traps them regularly for medical checkups. He hauls dead calves up steep slopes to make sure his charges get a healthy breakfast.

You could say that the condors are Burnett's second family. "It's never even a matter of discussion when it comes to them," says his wife, Wendy. "He loves those birds."

The storm blew in on a gorgeous June day in Monterey, where Burnett and his family live. Burnett was in the yard playing with his 13-month-old son, Griffin; Wendy was gardening. As a fleet of dark clouds rolled up from the south, the family retreated inside their hillside home. The lightning display that followed was spectacular.

That worried Burnett. The woodlands were brittle with drought, and in Big Sur, 30 miles down the coast, a disease had turned half a million trees into kindling. A big wildfire was many seasons overdue. "This could be it," he said grimly to his wife.

Burnett knew that most of the 25 condors inhabiting Big Sur would be able to escape a fire on their own. But eight birds were locked in the Ventana compound's holding pen. If the flames reached them, they would die.

The storm had barely passed when Burnett's phone started ringing. A colleague, biologist Mike Tyner, had been tracking condor activity along Highway 1 and saw smoke rising from a hill above the redwoods. Ventana volunteer Duane Titus, who ran a wildlife rescue center with his wife, was monitoring fire-service communications on his scanner and said crews were fighting several blazes. Burnett's boss, Kelly Sorenson, was on the ridge near the condor pen; he, too, saw smoke plumes, as close as ten miles away.

The pen was located in a forest 17 miles off Highway 1, up an unpaved, winding service road. Under normal conditions, it would have taken three SUVs, five field crew members, and most of a day to move the captive condors—seven juveniles under two years old and an adult male named Hoi, who was helping prepare the youngsters for release. (Condors learn social and other survival skills from older, "mentor" birds.) Burnett hoped evacuation wouldn't be necessary, as it was best for the chicks to have minimal contact with humans.

Burnett and Sorenson both headed to the field office in Big Sur, where they spent the afternoon anxiously following the fire reports. By dinnertime, one fire had breached the ridgeline about five miles from the compound. The service road was now impassable. They'd need a helicopter to get to the pen; Burnett began calling around. But across the region, hundreds of blazes were spreading and merging, and he soon found that every qualified pilot was already booked for fire duty.

That night, Burnett fell into bed but couldn't sleep. How would he get those birds out alive?

The next morning, as the search for a flight continued, Duane Titus suggested that his wife, Rebecca Dmytryk, might help by reaching out to the network of contacts she'd built over her career in wildlife rescue. Within a few hours, she'd found a helicopter and a crew from the Coast Guard station in San Francisco. Burnett tapped biologist Tyner, 32, and Henry Bonifas, a 23-year-old intern, to accompany him on the mission. "This is above and beyond anything I've asked you to do," Burnett told them.

The three men met up with Lt. Harry Greene, 34; his copilot, Lt. Brad Donaldson, 28 (on loan from the Royal Australian Navy); and maintenance technician Casey Michaelson, 27, at Monterey's small airport and reviewed their plan. Greene and Donaldson would try to land at a bend in the dirt road about a mile from the condor pen; the forest was too dense to get closer. Burnett's team would hike in, wrangle each condor into a transport crate—an extra-large, customized dog kennel—and take it back to the chopper, which would ferry the birds to Monterey. The condors would then be taken to a refuge outside the fire zone.

The helicopter headed down the coast and turned inland. But as it approached the intended landing site, the pilots saw that they couldn't bring the chopper down. "The blades are going to hit the berm," Greene said. Burnett directed him to a fire emergency pad at the top of the ridge.

It was past 4:30 by the time they landed. Nightfall was less than four hours away, and the crew had orders not to fly after dark. They were three miles from the pen. The fire was getting closer. As Burnett hit the ground, all he could think was, We've got to keep moving.

As Burnett's team hustled down the dirt road, ash fell like snow around them. The only sound was the pounding of their boots—even the insects were quiet. They reached the compound just after five and managed to start up an old ATV to use as a transport for the birds. Tyner grabbed a chain saw from the toolshed and went to cut up a tree that had fallen across the road, while the other two men hauled the crates to the holding pen.

The pen was the size of a high school gym, furnished with stumps, snags, and branches for perching. They first went for Hoi, the 17-year-old mentor bird. He gave in easily, but his protégés were a challenge. Even at 18 months, condors have enormous wings, and their beaks and nails are razor-sharp. It took a half hour to capture the first chick and get the two kennels onto the ATV. Burnett took off with them.

He was waiting at the landing pad when the helicopter returned from a refueling run. Greene warned that they had time for only two trips to Monterey. Burnett sped back to the pen, returning 45 minutes later with two more chicks, and then, around 7:30, with two more. Michaelson managed to cram five kennels into the chopper.

Dusk was falling, and the fire was now a mile and a half away. "Be here at 8:30 with the rest of the birds," Greene called to Burnett over the engine's noise. "And be prepared: If we can't land, you'll have to leave them and we'll pick you up somewhere below the ridge." The chopper lifted off. Burnett put the kennel holding the sixth chick in a hollow near the helipad and hightailed it back to the compound.

Tyner and Bonifas had just captured the seventh condor when Burnett reached the pen. The eighth, the three-foot-tall No. 438, was leading them on a chase, launching herself from perch to perch to elude their grasp. "Come on, bird," the men coaxed as they darted after the chick. Five minutes remained before they were due back. Burnett finally scrambled up a ladder, grabbed 438 by her feet, and tossed her, against official protocol, to Tyner and Bonifas. She was netted and wrestled into the kennel. Burnett loaded up the ATV and leaped behind the wheel. But it wouldn't start.

Tyner, an ATV pro, took the driver's seat. While the others pushed the quad downhill toward the road, he shifted into second gear and the engine caught. "Don't stop till you get there!" Burnett yelled to Tyner as he took off on foot with Bonifas. They were halfway to the landing site and coughing from the smoke when Tyner returned for them. He'd seen no sign of the chopper. "We may have to carry those last three kennels down on our backs," Burnett said wearily. He and Bonifas hung on to the quad as Tyner drove them back to the helipad.

As they rounded the last bend, they heard the distant chop of rotors and saw lights in the murky dark. The helicopter was crawling up the ridge, searching for the pad. "Keep going," Burnett directed by radio. "One more peak and you're there."

It finally landed, and Michaelson hauled the last three kennels on board. "Let's go, let's go! Fire's coming!" he shouted. The engine howled as the chopper hurtled down the side of the ridge. The air was opaque. Would they find their way out? Burnett thought of his wife and child and wondered if he'd ever see them again. Then the helicopter burst through the acrid smoke and into a clear night. Looking back, the men saw ribbons of flame glowing on the hillsides. They—and the condors—were safe.

When the team arrived at the Monterey airport, a small but joyous crowd rushed onto the tarmac. Sorenson, Dmytryk, and Titus helped a couple of government biologists load the birds into a van, which took them 70 miles inland to a pen at Pinnacles National Monument.

The youngsters continued their tutelage with Hoi until they were ready for the wild. Three were released last fall at the Bitter Creek National Wildlife Refuge in Southern California; the other four, in November and December, into the outback of Pinnacles. In March, Burnett watched one of the birds—a female known as No. 431—soar over the mountains and into Big Sur, her black and white wings huge against the sky. "Seeing them make it as condors—that's the moment you live for," he says, smiling. "That's when you know what you've done has made a difference."

The Basin Complex fire burned 163,000 acres and consumed nearly 60 structures, including the Big Sur holding pen. Two free-flying condors were lost. Soon afterward, when Burnett climbed a charred redwood to investigate why a pair of condors kept returning to it, he made an astonishing discovery: In a hollow at the top of the 200-foot tree, a six-month-old condor chick had somehow survived the blaze. It was, says Burnett, "like the phoenix sitting there in a bed of ashes."

Condor Lore

The California condor has the largest wingspan of any land bird in North America. Its closest relative is the slightly larger Andean condor of South America.
Despite the name, California condors were found in pioneer days as far east as Colorado. Today, about 175 birds live free, mostly in the mountains of California and northern Mexico, Arizona's Grand Canyon, and Utah's Zion National Park.
Captive-born chicks spend their first year or so in zoos, where they're sometimes fed by hand puppets disguised as condors. To prepare for their release into the wild, they live for at least six months in remote outdoor pens, where they're mentored by adult birds.
Condor pairs reproduce only once every two years, giving birth to a single chick. Individuals can live past 50 years.