Thought for Today

Angel

Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly!

With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

Two Angels

Two Angels, one was young, the second was ancient, stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. They were put down in the basement and asked to pay top rate.

While they got ready for bed, the older angel repaired a hole in the wall, looked at the young angel and remarked: “things are not always what they seem.”

The next night the two angels stopped at the home of the poorest family the young angel had ever seen but the elderly couple gave them their own bed and looked after them as if they were royalty: they also charged very little for what they gave.

In the morning the angels found the old lady crying, the cow had died during the night. The young angel immediately blamed the older angel for having let such a thing happen after all the hospitality they had received.

The older angel looked at him and said again: “things are not always what they seem: in the mansion I saw gold stored in that hole in the wall, so I hid it. Greed and gold are bad bed- fellows.

Last night the angel of death came for the old man’s wife. I made the best deal I could: I let him have the cow instead. Things are not always what they seem. We have enough gold between us to buy them another cow.”

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

Laughter is the Best Medicine

A little child in church for the first time watched as the ushers passed the offering plates. When they neared the pew where he sat, the youngster piped up so that everyone could hear: “Don’t pay for me Daddy, I’m under five.”

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A little boy was attending his first wedding. After the Service, his cousin asked him, “How many women can a man marry?” “Sixteen,”  the  boy responded.

His cousin was amazed that he had an answer so quickly. “How do you know that?”

“Easy,” the little boy said. “All you have to do is add it up, like the Bishop said: 4 better, 4 worse, 4 richer, 4 poorer.”

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After a church service on Sunday morning, a young   boy suddenly announced to his mother, “Mom, I’ve decide to become a minister when I grow up.”

“That’s fine with us, son, but what made you decide that?” “Well,” said the little boy, “I have to go to church on Sunday anyway, and I figure it will be more fun to stand up and yell, than to sit and listen.”

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A boy was watching his father, a pastor, write a sermon. “How do you know what to say?” he asked. “Why, God tells me”, the father replied. The boy thought for a while then quietly said, “Then why do you keep crossing things out?”

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A little girl became restless as the preacher’s sermon dragged   on and on. Finally, she leaned over to her mother and whispered, “Mommy, if we give him the money now, will he let us go?”

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After the christening of his baby brother in church, little Johnny sobbed all the way home in the back seat of the car. His father asked him three times what was wrong.

Finally, the boy replied, “That priest said he wanted us brought up in a Christian home, and I want to stay with you guys!”

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Terri asked her Sunday School class to draw pictures of their favourite Bible stories. She was puzzled by Kyle’s picture, which showed four people on an airplane, so she asked him which story it was meant to represent.

“The flight to Egypt,” said Kyle.

“I see … And that must be Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus,” Ms. Terri said. “But who’s the fourth person?”

“Oh, that’s Pontius -the Pilot.

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The Sunday School Teacher asks, “Now, Johnny, tell me frankly, do you say prayers before eating?” “No sir, “little Johnny replies, “I don’t have to. My Mom is a good cook.”

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

On Medical Advice

This poem was written by my friend, Ted Hughes, when he was nearly 90 years old!

Come in, Mr Hughes,
I have all your news,
And I’ve fully considered each page,
Although you look pale
For an octogenarian male,
You’re surprisingly good for your age.

A spoonful of rum
For your vociferous tum,
No fantasies should you engage,
When you feel ‘fit to kill’
Keep taking the pill,
But you’re really quite good for your age.

Tho’ you’re weak at the knees
And you spill when you sneeze,
Calm yourself and try not to rage,
Ignore golf course calls
When your putting appals,
‘Cos you’re frightfully fit for your age.

You seem out of touch
As you lean on your crutch,
I’m afraid that you’ve now reached that stage,
As you gaze at your bed
Don’t wish you were dead,
You’re alive and so good for your age.

Just think of the past
As long as you last,
‘Til your real self-bursts from its cage,
Absolutely no doubt
The old body’s worn out,
But you’re oh so good for your age.

Go home now, dear boy
And think of the joy,
All those years of minimum wage,
The times when you could
Contribute much good,
Keep it up, all is well for your age.

I knew Ted for many years. The last time I saw Ted before his death, just after he had reached 92, he took me for a gourmet meal at a restaurant in the New Forest.

Despite my offer to take us in my car, Ted insisted on us going in his car. As we sped through the Hampshire countryside at speeds well in excess of the speed limit, I closed my eyes and said a prayer!

Somehow we managed to arrive safely – the angels must definitely been with us that day!

With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

A Time To Believe

To believe is to know that every day is a new beginning.
It is to trust that miracles happen, and dreams really do come true.

To believe is to see angels dancing among the clouds.
To know the wonder of a stardust
sky and the wisdom of the man in the moon.

To believe is to know the value of a nurturing heart,
The innocence of a child’s eyes and the beauty of an aging hand,
for it is through their teachings we learn to love.

To believe is to find the strength and courage that lies within us.
When it is time to pick up the pieces and begin again.

To believe is to know we are not alone,  That life is a gift and this is our time to cherish it.

To believe is to know that wonderful surprises are just waiting to happen,
And all our hopes and dreams are within reach.

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

Angels – As Explained By Children

I only know the names of two angels, Hark and Harold.
Gregory, age 5

Everybody’s got it all wrong. Angels don’t wear halos any more. I forget why, but scientists are working on it.
Olive, age 9

It’s not easy to become an angel! First, you die.
Then you go to Heaven, and then there’s still the flight training to go through.
And then you got to agree to wear those angel clothes.
Matthew, age 9

Angels work for God and watch over kids when God has to go do something else.
Mitchell, age 7

My guardian angel helps me with math, but he’s not much good for science.
Henry, age 8

Angels don’t eat, but they drink milk from Holy Cows!!!
Jack, age 6

Angels talk all the way while they’re flying you up to heaven. The main subject is where you went wrong before you got dead.
Daniel, age 9

When an angel gets mad, he takes a deep breath and counts to ten.
And when he lets out his breath again, somewhere there’s a tornado.
Reagan, age 10

Angels have a lot to do and they keep very busy. If you lose a tooth, an angel comes in through your window and leaves money under your pillow. Then when it gets cold, angels go south for the winter.
Sara, age 6

Angels live in cloud houses made by God and his son, who’s a very good carpenter.
Jared, age 8

All angels are girls because they gotta wear dresses and boys didn’t go for it.
Antonio, age 9

My angel is my grandma who died last year. She got a big head start on helping me while she was still down here on earth.
Ashley ~ age 9

Some of the angels are in charge of helping heal sick animals and pets. And if they don’t make the animals get better, they help the child get over it.
Vicki , age 8

What I don’t get about angels is why, when someone is in love, they shoot arrows at them.
Sarah , age 7

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

 

Christmas Eve

Yes, I do know that we have some months still to go until Christmas arrives again but I have just come across this wonderfully uplifting story which I wish to share with you all:-
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 another day to him. He didn’t hate Christmas, just couldn’t find a reason to celebrate. There were no children in his life. His wife had gone.

He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened up and a homeless man stepped through. Instead of throwing the man out, George, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come in and sit by the space heater and warm up.

“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 said. He turned and opened 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 rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked.

“Mister, can you help me?” said the driver with a deep Spanish accent. “My wife is with child and my car is broken.” George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold; the car was dead.

“You ain’t going in this thing. George said as he turned away.

“But mister. Please help…” The door of the office closed behind George as he went in. George went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building and opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting.

“Here, take my truck,” he said. “She ain’t the best thing you’ve 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 inside the office.

“Glad I gave ’em the truck. Their tires were shot, too. That ‘ol truck has brand new…” 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, shoot, 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 shots 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 uniform 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 anything,” he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease. “Something for the pain,” George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. “These oughta work.” He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. “You hang in there. I’m gonna get you an ambulance.” The phone was dead. “Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your 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’ve left me out 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 it is. Bullet passed right through ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time you’re 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. Too bad I ain’t got no doughnuts.”

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 pea 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 we make 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.”

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 work 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. An airplane, a car and a 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,” 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 make you a rich man and not take any for himself. 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 old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing
turned into a white robe.

A golden light began to fill the room. “You see, George… it’s my birthday.
Merry Christmas.”
George fell to his knees and replied,

“Happy Birthday, Lord.”

“What you do today, right now, will have an
accumulated effect on all your tomorrows.”

Author Unknown

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey