for the life road ..make a friend here...come on !~

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  • One Finger

    2008-2-27

    "Mom, you should put some of your things away. Baby proof this house," stated our oldest son Mark as he lumbered up the stairs followed by his wife, Kim, and fifteen－month－old Hannah.

    Visiting for the Thanksgiving holiday, he finished unloading the luggage and took it to the guestroom downstairs. After driving all day from Salt Lake to Ft. Collins, his temper showed. "That one finger rule may work with the twins, but it'll never work with Hannah, " he insisted.

    When my three granddaughters were born four months apart and the twins moved into our house at eight months, my close friend offered me her secret to entertaining grandchildren with few mishaps. "Teach them the 'one finger rule'." All of her five grandchildren learned it at a young age. The success of the method surprised me.

    I picked up my granddaughter and said, "Well, Mark, you just watch." I hugged her and walked all around the great room.

    "Hannah, you may touch anything in this room you want. But, you can only use one finger." I demonstrated the technique by touching my forefinger to the African sculpture on the mantle. Hannah followed my example. "Good girl. Now what else would you like to touch？"

    She stretched her finger toward another object on the mantle. I allowed her to touch everything in sight, plants, glass objects, TV, VCR, lamps, speakers, candles and artificial flowers. If she started to grab, I gently reminded her to use one finger. She always obeyed. But, Hannah, an only child, possessed a more adventur ous personality. Her father predicted it would prevent her from accepting the"one finger"rule.

    During their four-day stay, we aided Hannah in remembering"one finger"rule. She learned quickly. I only put away the things that might prove to be a danger to a child. Otherwise, we watched her closely and nothing appeared to suffer any damage. Besides, "things"can be replaced.

    A few fingerprints on glass doors, windows and tables remained after Hannah and her family returned home. I couldn't bring myself to clean them for days. Each one reminded me of some wonderful experience with Hannah.

    Months later, my husband and I drove to Salt Lake; I watched Mark and Kim continue to practice the one finger rule. But I refrained from saying, "I told you so." Yet, I smiled inwardly each time they prodded Hannah to touch with "one finger. " Mark, a salesman, always gave a packet of gifts to his potential clients. The night before we returned home, Mark sat on the floor stuffing gifts into their packets. Hannah helped.

    Then she picked up one gift, held it in her hand as if it were a fragile bird, and walked toward me. At my knee, her beautiful blue eyes looked into mine. She stretched her prize to me and said, "One finger, Nana!"

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  • You never picked me last

    2008-1-27

    "Dr. Carr! Is it you? Is it really you?" I turned from where I had been browsing in the bookstore to see a six-foot-six, muscular, good-looking, smiling, sandy-haired young man calling me.

    "It's me, Dr. Carr! Gibby!"

    "Gibby, it can't be. You're all grown up!"

    Looking closer, I would have known those eyes anywhere: serious, intense, penetrating blue eyes. Yes, It was my Gibby, all right.

    He leaned down to hug his former elementary principal, and my thoughts went back to that shy, overweight little boy who transferred to our school as he began the fifth grade. He was quiet and withdrawn then.

    Gibby had a difficult time the first few months, as do many children when they enter a new school. Some of the boys teased him about his lack of athletic ability when he attempted to play games on the playground. Gibby wasn't coordinated and had difficulty keeping up. He always appeared to be stumbling over his shoestrings. Most of the time, he was. I would remind him, "Better tie your shoestrings, Son," and he'd reply, "Yes, ma'am, Dr. Carr."

    Often I would watch the students playing at recess. I noticed that when they began to choose up sides for a game, serious little Gibby would usually be left standing alone. Several times I went out on the playground and said, "I never get to choose a team. May I?" The boys and girls would laugh at their principal who wanted to play, and say, "Okay, Dr. Carr, it's your turn!" I'd call out a few names and then, around the fourth or fifth spot, I'd call Gibby's name and a few others who never seemed to get selected by their peers. My team may not have been the best, but we were, by far, the happiest and definitely the most committed, determined, and loyal.

    In the early spring of Gibby's fifth grade year, I held an exercise class on the playground during recess for anyone who wanted to tone up their winter-weary muscles. Girls flocked to this program, and so did a few boys. Gibby was one of those.

    We began by walking briskly around the perimeter of the large playground. I led the pack and Gibby invariably brought up the rear, puffing and panting and tripping over his shoestrings. As my group circled, we would pass Gibby who was giving it his all, but nevertheless, lagging far behind. I'd call to him, "Good going, Gibby. Keep it up. You're getting the hang of it. Uh . . . Better tie your shoestrings, Son."

    "Yes, ma'am, Dr. Carr," he said, breathing hard and trying to put on a happy face.

    After a month, Gibby shed a few pounds and didn't huff and puff as much. He still tripped over his shoestrings, but he did keep up with the group much easier.

    By the fifth week, we had as many boys in our exercise class as girls. I don‘t believe the boys were suddenly all that interested in their health, for it was about this time the girls decided to dress out in shorts. We added some floor exercises to our program and held this class in the gym. Gibby was right there, in the back row, stretching and bending, lifting and kicking, as intense as ever. Gibby never gave up or made excuses. The little fellow just wasn't a quitter. He tried harder than anyone, and I admired his spunk. Many of his classmates did too. In time, he gained confidence and began to smile and talk more. He wasn't the new kid anymore, and he began to make some solid friends.

    Now, after all those years, here we were standing in the bookstore. My little Gibby towered over me.

    "What are you doing here, Gibby?" I asked. "I heard you have moved to Georgia."

    "Yes, Dr. Carr. I live in Atlanta now, and I'm division manager of a computer software company. I'm visiting my mom here this weekend," he replied.

    "Well, you look good and sound happy, Gibby."

    "I am happy, Dr. Carr. And I think of you often. You know, it was kinda hard for me to change schools back then and move to a new town, but you were real nice to me."

    "Why, thank you, Gibby."

    "Yeah, you were always laughing, and you made it fun to come to school," he said. "I'll never forget your exercise classes. You really made us work."

    Then a big smile lit up his face as he continued, "But, Dr. Carr, you know the thing that I remember most about you?"

    "I have no idea, Gibby. What was it?"

    "Well," he said, as he stared at me with those deep blue eyes, "Whenever you got a chance to choose up sides on the playground, you never picked me last."

    "Of course not, Gibby. You were one of my most determined players."

    We hugged again and he said, "I'm married now, Dr. Carr. She's really nice and always laughing. Come to think of it, she's a lot like you. And the best thing about her is-from everyone in the world she could have married, she picked me. She picked me first!"

    Tears flooded my eyes. I looked down to avoid his gaze and try to regain my control.

    It was then that I noticed his shoes.

    "Better tie your shoestrings," I mumbled, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand.

    "Yes, ma'am, Dr. Carr," he replied, flashing that boyish grin.

     

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  • Today is a gift

    2007-12-05

    Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room‘s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end.

    They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

    The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

    One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn‘t hear the band - he could see it in his mind‘s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descrīptive words.

    Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

    As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly and painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

    The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

     

    from chinadaily.

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  • he he ..

    2007-10-12

    lont time no come here..coz  busy recently...

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  • parted rose...

    2007-9-28

    i am very sad recently,coz my gf parted with me ,,,and i really love her very much ,but  i can't let her come back ....

    finally , she told me , there is one boy loving her ,too. she have to get only one from us ....cry ~~~~` now i know , before she fell in love with me that boy had already liked her for many years ......

    my god !~~her choice let me down .....only let the boy feel happy,,,she sold her happiness......

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  • Put the glass down

    2007-9-28

    A lecturer was giving a lecture to his student on stress management. He raised a glass of water and asked the audience, ”How heavy do you think this glass of water is?”

    The students’ answers ranged from 20g to 500g.

    “It does not matter on the absolute weight. It depends on how long you hold it. If I hold it for a minute, it is OK. If I hold it for an hour, I will have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you will have to call an ambulance. It is the exact same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.

    “If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, we will not be able to carry on, the burden becoming increasingly heavier.

    “What you have to do is to put the glass down, rest for a while before holding it up again.”

    We have to put down the burden periodically, so that we can be refreshed and are able to carry on.

    So before you return home from work tonight, put the burden of work down. Don’t carry it back home. You can pick it up tomorrow.

    Whatever burdens you are having now on your shoulders, let it down for moment if you can.

    Life is short, enjoy it!!

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  • fngers

    2007-9-18

    大拇指——thumb

    食指——forefinger

    中指——middle finger

    无名指——ring finger

     

    小指——little finger

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  • 喝酒也聪明

    2007-9-13

    It is guaranteed to raise a cheer among those who enjoy a tipple: moderate drinkers are better thinkers than teetotallers or those who overindulge.

    Research by the Australian National University in Canberra suggests drinking in moderation boost your brainpower. But none at all, or too much, can make you a dullard.

    A study of 7,000 people in their early 20s, 40s and 60s found that those who drank within safe limits had better verbal skills, memory and speed of thinking than those at the extremes of the drinking spectrum. The safe consumption level was considered to be 14 to 28 standard drinks a week for a man and seven to 14 for a woman.

    Questions ranged from verbal reasoning problems to tests of short-term memory. Surprisingly, perhaps, teetotallers were twice as likely as occasional drinkers to achieve the lowest scores.

    Bryan Rodgers, from ANU's Centre for Mental Health Research, said moderate drinkers not only performed the best, but also seemed to be the healthiest. "This does not necessarily show moderate alcohol use is good for our brains - there may be other reasons we haven't measured to explain the poor performance of non-drinkers," Dr Rodgers said.

    The results may reflect the fact that alcohol can reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease and increase blood flow to the brain - factors linked to improved mental function. They also support research that suggests moderate alcohol intake can reduce the risk of heart attacks and strokes by improving circulation.

    The Australian study is part of a 20-year project started in 1999 to examine the changes in thinking and mood as people age.

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  • The trees outside my window

    2007-9-05

    From the window of my room, I could see a tall cotton-rose hibiscus. In spring, when green foliage was half hidden by mist, the tree looked very enchanting dotted with red blossom. This inspiring neighbor of mine often set my mind working. I gradually regarded it as my best friend.

    Nevertheless, when I opened the window one morning, to my amazement, the tree was almost bare beyond recognition as a result of the storm ravages the night before. Struck by the plight, I was seized with a sadness at the thought “all the blossom is doomed to fall”. I could not help sighing with emotion: the course of life never runs smooth, for there are so many ups and downs, twists and turns. The vicissitudes of my life saw my beloved friends parting one after another. Isn’t it similar to the tree shedding its flowers in the wind?

    This event faded from my memory as time went by. One day after I came home from the countryside, I found the room stuffy and casually opened the window. Something outside caught my eye and dazzled me. It was a plum tree all scarlet with blossom set off beautifully by the sunset. The surprise discovery overwhelmed me with pleasure. I wondered why I had no idea of some unyielding life sprouting over the fallen petals when I was grieving for the hibiscus.

    When the last withered petal dropped, all the joyful admiration for the hibiscus sank into oblivion as if nothing was left, until the landscape was again ablaze with the red plum blossom to remind people of life’s alternation and continuance. Can’t it be said that life is actually a symphony, a harmonious composition of loss and gain.

    Standing by the window lost in thought for a long time, I realized that no scenery in the world remains unchanged. As long as you keep your heart basking in the sun, every dawn will present a fine prospect for you to unfold and the world will always be about new hopes.

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  • love is different from like

    2007-8-31

    In front of the person you love, your heart beats faster, but in front of the person you like, you get happy.

    In front of the person you love, winter seems like spring, but in front of the person you like, winter is just beautiful winter.

    If you look into the eyes of the one you love, you blush, but if you look into the eyes of the person you like, you smile.

    If front of the person you love, you can’t say everything on your mind, but in front of the person you like, you can.

    In front of the person you love, you tend to get shy, but in front of the person you like, you can show your own self.

    You can’t look straight into the eyes of the one you love, but you can always smile into the eyes of the one you like.

    When the one you love is crying, you cry with him, but when the one you like is crying, you end up comforting.

    The feeling of love starts from the eye, and the feeling of like starts from the ears.

    So if you stop liking a person you used to like, all you need to do is cover your ears. But if you try to close your eyes, love turns into a teardrop and remains in your heart forever after.

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