The Beetle and the Silken Thread « Result #1 on Feb 27, 2009, 9:15pm »
The strange adventures related in the story of the Beetle and the Silken Thread took place in the town of Allahabad, "the City of God," so called because it is situated near the point of meeting of the two sacred rivers of India, the Ganges, which the Hindus lovingly call Mother Ganga because they believe its waters can wash away their sins, and the Jumna, which they consider scarcely less holy.
The ruler of Allahabad was a very selfish and hot-tempered Raja named Surya Pratap, signifying "Powerful as the Sun," who expected everybody to obey him without a moment's delay, and was ready to punish in a very cruel manner those who hesitated to do so. He would never listen to a word of explanation, or own that he had been mistaken, even when he knew full well that he was in the wrong. He had a mantri, that is to say, a chief vizier or officer, whom he greatly trusted, and really seemed to be fond of, for he liked to have him always near him. The vizier was called Dhairya-Sila, or "the Patient One," because he never lost his temper, no matter what provocation he received. He had a beautiful house, much money and many jewels, carriages to drive about in, noble horses to ride and many servants to wait upon him, all given to him by his master. But what he loved best of all was his faithful wife, Buddhi-Mati, or "the Sensible One," whom he had chosen for himself, and who would have died for him.
Many of the Raja's subjects were jealous of Dhairya-Sila, and constantly brought accusations against him, of none of which his master took any notice, except to punish those who tried to set him against his favourite. It really seemed as if nothing would ever bring harm to Dhairya-Sila; but he often told his wife that such good fortune was not likely to last, and that she must be prepared for a change before long.
It turned out that he was right. For one day Surya Pratap ordered him to do what he considered would be a shameful deed. He refused; telling his master that he was wrong to think of such a thing, and entreating him to give up his purpose. "All your life long," he said, "you will wish you had listened to me; for your conscience will never let you rest!"
On hearing these brave words, Surya Pratap flew into a terrible rage, summoned his guards, and ordered them to take Dhairya-Sila outside the city to a very lofty tower, and leave him at the top of it, without shelter from the sun and with nothing to eat or drink. The guards were at first afraid to touch the vizier, remembering how others had been punished for only speaking against him. Seeing their unwillingness, the Raja got more and more angry; but Dhairya-Sila himself kept quite calm, and said to the soldiers:
"I go with you gladly. It is for the master to command and for me to obey."
The guards were relieved to find they need not drag the vizier away; for they admired his courage and felt sure that the Raja would soon find he could not get on without him. It might go hardly with them if he suffered harm at their hands. So they only closed in about him; and holding himself very upright, Dhairya-Sila walked to the tower as if he were quite glad to go. In his heart however he knew full well that it would need all his skill to escape with his life.
When her husband did not come home at night, Buddhi-Mati was very much distressed. She guessed at once that something had gone wrong, and set forth to try and find out what had happened. This was easy enough; for as she crept along, with her veil closely held about her lest she should be recognised, she passed groups of people discussing the terrible fate that had befallen the favourite. She decided that she must wait until midnight, when the streets would be deserted and she could reach the tower unnoticed. It was almost dark when she got there, but in the dim light of the stars she made out the form of him she loved better than herself, leaning over the edge of the railing at the top.
"Is my dear lord still alive?" she whispered, "and is there anything I can do to help him?"
"You can do everything that is needed to help me," answered Dhairya-Sila quietly, "if you only obey every direction I give you. Do not for one moment suppose that I am in despair. I am more powerful even now than my master, who has but shown his weakness by attempting to harm me. Now listen to me. Come to-morrow night at this very hour, bringing with you the following things: first, a beetle; secondly, sixty yards of the finest silk thread, as thin as a spider's web; thirdly, sixty yards of cotton thread, as thin as you can get it, but very strong; fourthly, sixty yards of good stout twine; fifthly, sixty yards of rope, strong enough to carry my weight; and last, but certainly not least, one drop of the purest bees' honey."
Buddhi-Mati listened very attentively to these strange instructions, and began to ask questions about them. "Why do you want the beetle? Why do you want the honey?" and so on. But her husband checked her. "I have no strength to waste in explanations," he said. "Go home in peace, sleep well, and dream of me." So the anxious wife went meekly away; and early the next day she set to work to obey the orders she had received. She had some trouble in obtaining fine enough silk, so very, very thin it had to be, like a spider's web; but the cotton, twine and rope were easily bought; and to her surprise she was not asked what she wanted them for. It took her a good while to choose the beetle. For though she had a vague kind of idea that the silk, the cotton, twine, and rope, were to help her husband get down from the tower, she could not imagine what share the beetle and the honey were to take. In the end she chose a very handsome, strong-looking, brilliantly coloured fellow who lived in the garden of her home and whom she knew to be fond of honey.
All the time Buddhi-Mati was at work for her husband, she was thinking of him and looking forward to the happy day of his return home. She had such faith in him that she did not for a moment doubt that he would escape; but she was anxious about the future, feeling sure that the Raja would never forgive Dhairya-Sila for being wiser than himself. Exactly at the time fixed the faithful wife appeared at the foot of the tower, with all the things she had been told to bring with her.
"Is all well with my lord?" she whispered, as she gazed up through the darkness. "I have the silken thread as fine as gossamer, the cotton thread, the twine, the rope, the beetle and the honey."
"Yes," answered Dhairya-Sila, "all is still well with me. I have slept well, feeling confident that my dear one would bring all that is needed for my safety; but I dread the great heat of another day, and we must lose no time in getting away from this terrible tower. Now attend most carefully to all I bid you do; and remember not to speak loud, or the sentries posted within hearing will take alarm and drive you away. First of all, tie the end of the silken thread round the middle of the beetle, leaving all its legs quite free. Then rub the drop of honey on its nose, and put the little creature on the wall, with its nose turned upwards towards me. It will smell the honey, but will not guess that it carries it itself, and it will crawl upwards in the hope of getting to the hive from which that honey came. Keep the rest of the silk firmly held, and gradually unwind it as the beetle climbs up. Mind you do not let it slip, for my very life depends on that slight link with you."
Buddhi-Mati, though her hands shook and her heart beat fast as she realized all that depended on her, kept the silk from becoming entangled; and when it was nearly all unwound, she heard her husband's voice saying to her: "Now tie the cotton thread to the end of the silk that you hold, and let it gradually unwind." She obeyed, fully understanding now what all these preparations were for.
When the little messenger of life reached the top of the tower, Dhairya-Sila took it up in his hand and very gently unfastened the silken thread from its body. Then he placed the beetle carefully in a fold of his turban, and began to pull the silken thread up--very, very slowly, for if it had broken, his wonderful scheme would have come to an end. Presently he had the cotton thread in his fingers, and he broke off the silk, wound it up, and placed it too in his turban. It had done its duty well, and he would not throw it away.
"Half the work is done now," he whispered to his faithful wife. "You have all but saved me now. Take the twine and tie it to the end of the cotton thread."
Very happily Buddhi-Mati obeyed once more; and soon the cotton thread and twine were also laid aside, and the strong rope tied to the last was being quickly dragged up by the clever vizier, who knew that all fear of death from sunstroke or hunger was over. When he had all the rope on the tower, he fastened one end of it to the iron railing which ran round the platform on which he stood, and very quickly slid down to the bottom, where his wife was waiting for him, trembling with joy.
After embracing his wife and thanking her for saving him, the vizier said to her: "Before we return home, let us give thanks to the great God who helped me in my need by putting into my head the device by which I escaped." The happy pair then prostrated themselves on the ground, and in fervent words of gratitude expressed their sense of what the God they worshipped had done for them. "And now," said Dhairya-Sila, "the next thing we have to do is to take the dear little beetle which was the instrument of my rescue back to the place it came from." And taking off his turban, he showed his wife the tiny creature lying in the soft folds.
Buddhi-Mati led her husband to the garden where she had found the beetle, and Dhairya-Sila laid it tenderly on the ground, fetched some food for it, such as he knew it loved, and there left it to take up its old way of life. The rest of the day he spent quietly in his own home with his wife, keeping out of sight of his servants, lest they should report his return to his master. "You must never breathe a word to any one of how I escaped," Dhairya-Sila said, and his wife promised that she never would.
Encouraging Words « Result #2 on Feb 17, 2009, 3:31am »
Someone said that encouragement is simply reminding a person of the "shoulders" he's standing on, wow power leveling,the heritage he's been given. That's what happened when a young man, the son of a star baseball player, was drafted by one of the minor league teams. As hard as he tried, his first season was disappointing, and by midseason he expected to be released any day. The coaches were bewildered by his failure because he possessed all the characteristics of a superb athlete, wow power leveling,but he couldn't seem to incorporate those advantages into a coordinated effort. He seemed to have become disconnected from his potential.
His future seemed darkest one day when he had already struck out his first time at bat. Then he stepped up to the batter's box again and quickly ran up two strikes. The catcher called a time-out and trotted to the pitcher's mound for a conference. While they were busy the umpire, wow power leveling,standing behind the plate, spoke casually to the boy.
Then play resumed, the next pitch was thrown - and the young man knocked it out of the park. That was the turning point.wow power leveling,From then on, he played the game with a new confidence and power that quickly drew the attention of the parent team, wow gold,and he was called up to the majors.
On the day he was leaving for the city, one of his coaches asked him what had caused such a turnaround. The young man replied it was the encouraging remark the umpire had made that day when his baseball career had seemed doomed.
"He told me I reminded him of all the times he had stood behind my dad in the batter's box," the boy explained.wow gold,"He said I was holding the bat just the way Dad had held it. And he told me, 'I can see his genes in you; you have your father's arms.' After that, whenever I swung the bat, wow gold,I just imagined I was using Dad's arms instead of my own."
True Heroes Earn the Title « Result #3 on Feb 11, 2009, 12:02am »
Star athletes have played an important part in the lives of young children as far back as history remembers sports and its heroes. Every youngster has had at least one hero that he worshipped above all others. Such idolization is not always etched in stone however, and heroes have been known to change for many reasons.wow power leveling I was involved in such a change in 1960. My father was an Air Force master sergeant stationed at a radar station in Bellefontaine, Ohio. The Cincinnati Reds offered discount seating to military personnel in uniform and my father decided to take a group of airman to a game at old Crosley Field. I was included as an afterthought and was thrilled at finally being able to see a big league game. The double header between the hometown Reds and the Pittsburgh Pirates was going to be a highlight in my relatively short life.
Although I was an avid New York Yankee fan one of my favorite baseball players, Roy Face was a star relief pitcher for the Pirates and I was hoping to get his autograph.wow gold My father bought me a brand new baseball just in case.wow gold I could hardly contain myself on the drive to Cincinnati.
We arrived at the stadium a few minutes before the players were due to take the field and I lined up with several other youngsters at the entrance to the Pirate locker room. As the players filed out to enter the runway to the dugout, I looked anxiously for Roy Face. I finally saw him coming and in my best manners stepped up and asked him for his autograph. He calmly ignored me and proceeded down the runway.wow power leveling I was stunned! One of my favorite heroes had brushed me off without the slightest acknowledgement at all. I stood there pondering what to do next when a large arm appeared around my shoulders and a hand took the ball from my grasp. I looked up to see a beaming smile beneath a Pirate hat and a large 2l on the jersey. The man handed me the ball with a wink and headed onto the field. I looked down at the ball and could not believe that it now proudly bore the name ROBERTO CLEMENTE in bold black ink. Roy Face's spot on my hero list had just been filled by one of greatest players in the game. Clemente played an important part in the Pirate's sweep of the double header that day and helped lead his team to a World Series victory over my Yankees that October. Despite that, he remained one of my greatest heroes until his death in a 1972 airplane crash while flying relief supplies to earthquake victims in Nicaragua.wow gold By this time I had followed my father into the Air force and was stationed in Southeast Asia. When I learned of Clemente's death I could only marvel that the man who had helped find a hero had been a bonafide hero trying to help an entire nation.
Only die-hard fans will remember who Roy Face was,wow power leveling but children who were not born when he died can tell you all about Roberto Clemente. That is heroism at its finest.
Are You God? « Result #4 on Feb 11, 2009, 12:02am »
One cold evening during the holiday season, a little boy about six or seven was standing out in front of a store window.wow power leveling The little child had no shoes on and his clothes were mere rags. A young woman passing by saw the little boy and could read the longing in his pale blue eyes. She took the child by the hand and led him into the store.wow gold There she bought him new shoes and a complete suit of warm clothing.
They came back outside into the street and the woman said to the child,wow power leveling,wow gold ¡°Now you can go home and have a very happy holiday.¡±
The little boy looked up at her and asked, wow power leveling ¡°are you God, Ma¡¯am?¡±
She smiled down at him and replied, ¡°No son, I¡¯m just one of His children.¡±
The little boy then said, wow gold ¡°I knew you had to be some relation.¡± In this hustle-bustle world we live in it's so much easier to charge something on a credit card rather than give a gift of the heart. And gifts of the heart are especially needed during the holidays. A few years ago, I began to prepare my children for the fact that Christmas that year was going to be a small one. Their response was, "Yeah sure, Mom, we've heard that before!" I had lost my credibility because I had told them the same thing the previous year, while going through a divorce.wow power leveling But then I had gone out and charged every credit card to the max. I even found some creative financing techniques to pay for their stocking stuffers. This year was definitely going to be different, but they weren't buying it. A week before Christmas, I asked myself, What do I have that will make this Christmas special? In all the houses we had lived in before the divorce, I had always made time to be the interior decorator. I had learned how to wallpaper, to lay wooden and ceramic tile, to sew curtains out of sheets and even more. But in this rental house there was little time for decorating and a lot less money. Plus, I was angry about this ugly place, I with its read and orange carpets and turquoise and green walls. I refused to put money into it. Inside me, and inner voice of hurt pride shouted, We're not going to be here that long! Nobody else seemed to mind about the house except my daughter Lisa, who always tried to make her room her special place. It was time to express my talents.wow gold I called my ex-husband and asked that he buy a specific bedspread for Lisa. Then I bought the sheets to match. On Christmas Eve, I spent $15 on a gallon of paint. I also bought the prettiest stationery I'd ever seen. My goal was simple: I'd paint and we and stay busy until Christmas morning, so I wouldn't have time to feel sorry for myself on such a special family holiday. That night, I gave each of the children three pieces of stationery with envelopes. At the top of each page were the words, "What I love about my sister Mia," "What I love about my brother Kris," What I love about my sister Lisa" and "What I love about my brother Erik." The kids were 16, 14, wow power leveling 10 and 8, and it took some convincing on my part to assure them that they could find just one thing they liked about each other. As they wrote in privacy, I went to my bedroom and wrapped their few store-bought gifts. When I returned to the kitchen, the children had finished their letters to one another. Each name was written on the outside of the envelope. We exchanged hugs and goodnight kisses and they hurried off to bed. Lisa was given special permission to sleep in my bed, with the promise not to peek until Christmas morning. I got started in the wee hours of Christmas morn,wow gold I finished the curtains, painted the walls and stepped back to admire my masterpiece.
Wait-why not put rainbows and clouds on the walls to match the sheets? So out came my makeup brushes and sponges, and at 5 A.M. I was finished. Too exhausted to think about being a poor "broken home," as statistics said,wow gold I went to my room and found Lisa spread-eagled in my bed. I decided I couldn't sleep with arms and legs all over me, so I gently lifted her up and tiptoed her into her room. As I laid her head on the pillow, she said, "Mommy, is it morning yet?" "No sweetie, keep your eyes closed unit Santa comes." I awoke that morning with a bright whisper in my ear. "Wow, Mommy, it's beautiful!" Later, we all got up and sat around the tree and opened the few wrapped presents. Afterward the children were given their three envelopes. We read the words with teary eyes and red noses. Then we got to "the baby of the family's" notes. Erik, at 8, wasn't expecting to hear anything nice. His brother had written: "What I love about my brother Erik is that he's not afraid of anything." Mia had written,wow power leveling "What I love about my brother Erik is he can talk to anybody!" Lisa had written, "What I love about my brother Erik he can climb trees higher than anyone!" I felt a gentle tug at my sleeve, then a small hand cupped around my ear and Erik whispered, "Gee, Mom, I didn't even know they like me!" In the worst of times, creativity and resourcefulness had given us the best of times. I'm now back on my feet financially, and we've had many "big" Christmases with lots of presents under the tree¡but when asked which Christmas is our favorite, we all remember that one.
A Thanksgiving Story « Result #5 on Feb 10, 2009, 11:30pm »
It was the day before Thanksgiving -- the first one my three children and I would be spending without their father, who had left several months before. Now the two older children were very sick with the flu, and the eldest had just been prescribed bed rest for a week.
It was a cool, gray day outside,wow power leveling and a light rain was falling. I grew wearier as I scurried around, trying to care for each child: thermometers, juice, diapers. And I was fast running out of liquids for the children. But when I checked my purse, all I found was about $2.50 -- and this was supposed to last me until the end of the month. That¡¯s when I heard the phone ring.
It was the secretary from our former church, and she told me that they had been thinking about us and had something to give us from the congregation. I told her that I was going out to pick up some more juice and soup for the children,wow gold and I would drop by the church on my way to the market.
I arrived at the church just before lunch. The church secretary met me at the door and handed me a special gift envelope. ¡°We think of you and the kids often,¡± she said, ¡°and you are in our hearts and prayers. We love you.¡± When I opened the envelope, I found two grocery certificates inside.wow power leveling Each was worth $20. I was so touched and moved, I broke down and cried.
¡°Thank you very much,¡± I said, as we hugged each other. ¡°Please give our love and thanks to the church.¡± Then I drove to a store near our home and purchased some much-needed items for the children.
At the check-out counter I had a little over $14.00 worth of groceries,wow gold and I handed the cashier one of the gift certificates. She took it, then turned her back for what seemed like a very long time. I thought something might be wrong. Finally I said, ¡°This gift certificate is a real blessing. Our former church gave it to my family, knowing I¡¯m a single parent trying to make ends meet.¡°
The cashier then turned around, with tears in her loving eyes, and replied, ¡°Honey, that¡¯s wonderful! Do you have a turkey?¡±
¡°No. It¡¯s okay because my children are sick anyway.¡±
She then asked, ¡°Do you have anything else for Thanksgiving dinner?¡±
Again I replied, ¡°No.¡±
After handing me the change from the certificate, she looked at my face and said, ¡°Honey, I can¡¯t tell you exactly why right now,wow power leveling but I want you to go back into the store and buy a turkey, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie or anything else you need for a Thanksgiving dinner.¡±
I was shocked, and humbled to tears. ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked.
¡°Yes! Get whatever you want. And get some Gatorade for the kids.¡±
I felt awkward as I went back to do some more shopping, but I selected a fresh turkey, a few yams and potatoes
, and some juices for the children. Then I wheeled the shopping cart up to the same cashier as before. As I placed my groceries on the counter, she looked at me once more with giant tears in her kind eyes and began to speak.
¡°Now I can tell you. This morning I prayed that I could help someone today, and you walked through my line.¡± She reached under the counter for her purse and took out a $20 bill. She paid for my groceries and then handed me the change. Once more I was moved to tears.
The sweet cashier then said, wow gold¡°I am a Christian. Here is my phone number if you ever need anything.¡± She then took my head in her hands, kissed my cheek and said, ¡°God bless you, honey.¡±
As I walked to my car, I was overwhelmed by this stranger¡¯s love and by the realization that God loves my family too, and shows us his love through this stranger¡¯s and my church¡¯s kind deeds.
The children were supposed to have spent Thanksgiving with their father that year, but because of the flu they were home with me, for a very special Thanksgiving Day. They were feeling better, and we all ate the goodness of the Lord¡¯s bounty -- and our community¡¯s love. Our hearts were truly filled with thanks.
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