tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65653527144205742342024-03-08T07:37:15.372-08:00Real Life StoriesTerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-43031825306627345352015-02-20T19:58:00.001-08:002015-02-20T19:58:28.936-08:00'Haunting in Kentucky' - A Real Life Paranormal Story<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>A mother tells the true story of a mysterious force that tore through her house, pushed her children, and terrified her father </b><br /><br />HOW OR WHY a particular place becomes haunted is a mystery, although theorized <a href="http://paranormal.about.com/od/ghosthuntinggeninfo/a/aa060704.htm">contributing factors</a> range from certain environmental conditions to the residual aftermath of human tragedy, suffering, and death. But these factors are of little concern to the families that live at the center of the paranormal activity. They only know that their houses are disrupted, their routines shattered, and their children feel threatened. <br /><br />Lainey had no idea what lay in store for her family when they moved into what they thought was a cozy Kentucky <a href="http://paranormal.about.com/cs/trueghoststories/a/aa072803.htm">farmhouse</a>. There was something there... a presence that might only have been curious about these new tenants. Or was this force something more sinister? This is Lainey's story.... <br /><br />These incidents occurred over several months from June, 2000 until we moved in October, 2001. My family rented a large farmhouse in the Oakland area of South Central Kentucky. From day one, something was unsettling in this home. <br /><b><br />THE HAUNTING BEGINS </b><br /><br />The first night we spent there, my husband and I were in bed being intimate, and I heard a man laughing from the vent by the stairs. I heard it three times, but my husband did not. Trying to ignore the obvious, I put it out of my mind. </span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">It was days later and my kids had begun seeing things. They were about 5 and 6 years old then. They saw a strange orb hovering in their room one night and were terrified. They described it as having a face - like a "floating bubble" that <a href="http://paranormal.about.com/od/ghostphotos/ig/Paranormal-Photo-Gallery/Portrait-in-an-Orb.htm">had a face</a>. Another time they described a light with a tail coming out of the ceiling and moving all around the room. They heard taps on the window a lot, too. <br /><br />Activity picked up and we had the usual creaky footsteps and sounds that went bump in the night. The house was two stories and we decided to make a play room for the kids upstairs. I always felt on edge up there, like someone was watching me. One afternoon, my kids were playing up there and heard something that frightened them. They both went running down the stairs, and as my younger child got to about middle of the stairs, some invisible force shoved him. He fell, as my older child was several steps behind and he saw how his brother's feet were made to come right out from under him. It wasn't as though he'd tripped... it was something unexplainable. Trying to not alarm or feed into the phenomena, I played it off time and again. <br /><br />Then a friend came to visit. Showing her our home, we went upstairs. She looked around, rubbed her arms like she was cold and said, "Let's go down." She actually ran down the stairs and immediately out the door. She then confided to me that my house was haunted. I told her I knew, but didn't know what to do about it.<br /><br /><b>THE VIOLENT INTRUSION </b><br /><br />Not long after this occurred, my kids had finished a large puzzle upstairs. We all went out and returned later to the lights being on in our home, not one but several. My husband went in to investigate. Finding nothing, we all went in. Going upstairs, we discovered much of the upstairs ransacked! Things were moved, some things stacked up oddly... and then there was the puzzle, looking as though it had been blown apart from the middle. Pieces remained in one small area and others were spread outwardly, from one corner of the room to the other. It was so eerie. We never did find all the pieces. <br /><br />I gave birth to a third child and the intensity of strange activity increased in the home. One day, the kids came running down and said there was "something" upstairs in the closet. Being tired of this, I stormed up there, opened the closet, walked in, and attested that there was nothing in there. Suddenly, some large object dropped next to me, but I did not see anything. It was something heavy; I even felt the floor shake as it hit. We instantly ran out of the house. <br /><br />I tried to reason that maybe a squirrel was in the attic or something, but the kids knew better. They had been having nightmares in which a frightening man was the main agitator. They also said the dreams were not like others; these were so vivid and real. <br /><br />Although I never saw anything, a presence was obvious - an ominous, eerie, cold presence. I discovered that the man whose family built this farm and who resided there until his death sometime in the early 1970s, died of a massive heart attack just down the road from this home. His wife lived there until just shortly before we rented the home, and there was one family of renters before us. <br /><br />I finally put it all together: how the candle wax on the hardwood floors in the kids' room and upstairs were likely signs of a <a href="http://paranormal.about.com/od/lifeafterdeath/a/aa100508.htm">séance</a>. I suppose a portal might have been opened, and this was revealed to me in a dream: I saw people sitting around and chanting. This dream was vivid, too. I began praying more and trying to ignore all the terrifying signs. <br /><b><br />THE APPARITION </b><br /><br />The most frightening experience occurred soon after this. My dad came to visit from out of state. We never spoke a word of this activity to him. He slept upstairs, where I had an extra bed. My dad is not one to believe in <a href="http://paranormal.about.com/cs/ghosthunting/f/blfaqs_ghost04.htm">hauntings</a> or anything paranormal. <br /><br />Well, my dad was to stay three nights. The first morning, I heard him come downstairs before 4 a.m. I was up with the baby and came into the kitchen with him. He'd already made coffee. He said he didn't sleep well. A short time later, he gathered his belongings and decided he needed to get back home, that he was going to be on call for his job, so he had to leave that day. <br /><br />I was confused and upset that he wasn't staying. He called me the next day and told me he was sorry to leave, but something was bugging him. He then confessed that he had heard someone upstairs in the night right after he drifted off. He heard heavy footsteps, and as he heard them approach, he looked. The figure of a lady entered the room. She was white and transparent. She walked toward him and disappeared, but the sound of her footsteps continued until it reached the bed. Then it sat down. An indentation was beside him on the bed. He was frozen with fright and closed his eyes. Then as quickly as it came, it left. <br /><br />I couldn't get out of that frightful place fast enough. I was so relieved to move. <br /> </span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-11792362507656834462015-02-20T19:56:00.001-08:002015-02-20T19:56:26.769-08:00'Ghost Around the Dog House' - A Real Life Paranormal Story<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I live in Bailey, North Carolina with my mother, father, brother, grandmother, and grandfather. We live in one of those wood houses with a basement and an attic. We've had a few weird things happen to some of us. <br /><br />I'll start with my brother. He told me that one night he woke up late and was paralyzed in bed with a dark, hooded figure right next to his bed. When he took a nap in our mom and dad's room, he says he was again paralyzed and heard bones rattling. Another time, he fell asleep on the couch with our female miniature poodle and she kept barking and growling at the hallway. My brother says that he turned on the lamp to see and there was no one there at all, and that our poodle would only go to sleep with the lamp on and with his arm around her. </span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">We've got another dog. She's a full-bred <a href="http://paranormal.about.com/od/trueghoststories/a/tales_09_03_20t.htm">German shepherd</a> and she lives outside in this snazzy cage our dad had built for her. My brother came home from work this one night and he always takes her out to do her business because she won't go in her cage. He couldn't find the leash where he left it. He looked around and found it tied to a tree. The metal piece we use to hook up to the collar was missing. We don't understand why since it was in one piece earlier that day and no one except my brother had taken her out. That leash ain't easy to break. The strongest man could not break that leash, I kid you not. My brother had been at work, too. <br /><br />We went looking for it (my brother, dad, mom and I) and it was starting to get dark. No luck. We did, however, come across some blue fluorescent blotches near the door to the cage of our dog. Nobody knows where they could have come from. <br /><br />The next day, I went outside. It was a lovely day. I went into the field right behind our German shepherd's cage to look for snakes or whatever (I like to pretend I'm an explorer, kind of like Steve Irwin). I found the metal hook dug into the ground! Who put it there? Only God knows! I ran to the house to show my mom and brother. My mom thought I had done it, but why would I? <br /><br />Next is my mom. She said she was all by her lonesome one morning on the couch with our miniature poodle. My mom heard <a href="http://paranormal.about.com/od/trueghoststories/a/tales_11_05_02t.htm">growling</a>. It couldn't have been the poodle; she was asleep. My mom would sometimes feel someone staring at her from the hallway. <br /><br />Then there's my grandma. She's weird, but I love her. She will sometimes go outside really late, like around 3 a.m.! She said she saw a white female ghost walk from the cage of our dog all the way through the field and into the <a href="http://paranormal.about.com/od/hauntedplaces/a/tales_11_09_15t.htm">woods</a> out back. <br /><br />She also said that when she was all alone at home, she heard the toilet flush all by its self. She even heard our poodles squeak toy squeak and no one had touched it at all. My dad had heard growling, as well, but he thought it was my brother's snoring or our poodle. He's quite skeptical. <br /><br />My granddad has never said anything weird has happened to him. I can't say I have either. I have stayed home alone all by my lonesome numerous times and have never ever experienced anything like they have. Maybe except this one time when I was asleep. I heard banging on my window. Not strong banging, but light banging. Then I heard rattling in my room. My room is spotless. I'm a bit of a neat freak. Nothing under the bed, the closet isn't stuffed with junk. I have a waste basket I empty out every day when I come home from school. I wasn't scared. I just didn't think much about it.</span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-55553409922731778582015-02-20T04:58:00.001-08:002015-02-20T04:58:08.713-08:00'Boy at the ice cream shop' - A Touching Moral Story<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A 9 year old boy went to an ice cream shop.<br /><br />Waiter: "What do you want?"<br /><br />Boy: "How much does an ice cream cone cost?"<br />.<br />Waiter: "$3.00"<br /><br />Then the Boy checked his pocket and asked how much does a small cone cost?<br /><br />The Waiter irritated, he angrily says: "$2.00"<br /><br />The Boy ordered a small cone, had it, paid the bill & left.<br /><br />When the Waiter came back to pick up the Boy's empty plate, tears rolled down from his eyes.<br /><br />The Boy had left $1.00 as tip for him.<br /><br /><i>“MAKE EVERYONE HAPPY WITH<br />SOMETHING YOU HAVE”.<br />That’s Life..</i></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-28842206855401034792015-02-20T04:42:00.002-08:002015-02-20T04:42:55.107-08:00'How much do you earn?' - A Heart Touching Real Life Story<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.<br /><br />SON: “Daddy, may I ask you a question?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />DAD: “Yeah sure, what is it?” replied the man.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />SON: “Daddy, how much do you make an hour?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />DAD: “That’s none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?” the man said angrily.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />SON: “I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />DAD: “If you must know, I make Rs.100 an hour.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />SON: “Oh,” the little boy replied, with his head down.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />SON: “Daddy, may I please borrow Rs.50?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />The father was furious, “If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room.The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The man had calmed down, and started to think: Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that Rs.50 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.<br />“No daddy, I’m awake,” replied the boy. “I’ve been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier” said the man. Here’s the Rs.50 you asked for.”<br /><br />The little boy sat straight up, smiling. “Oh, thank you daddy!” He yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills.The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father. “Why do you want more money if you already have some?” the father grumbled.”Because I didn’t have enough, but now I do,” the little boy replied.<br /><br />“Daddy, I have Rs.100 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?<br />Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.”<br /><br />The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness.<br /><br />A reminder to all of us working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts……..</span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-25459703942862527302015-02-20T04:39:00.002-08:002015-02-20T04:39:21.689-08:00'Look!' - A Short Touching Moral Real Life Story<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A 24 year old boy seeing out from the train’s window shouted…<br /><br />“Dad, look the trees are going behind!”<br /><br />Dad smiled and a young couple sitting nearby, looked at the 24 year old’s childish behavior with pity, suddenly he again exclaimed…<br /><br />“Dad, look the clouds are running with us!”<br /><br />The couple couldn’t resist and said to the old man…<br /><br />“Why don’t you take your son to a good doctor?”<br /><br />The old man smiled and said…<br /><br />“I did and we are just coming from the hospital, my son was blind from birth, he just got his eyes today.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />MORAL - Every single person on the planet has a story. Don’t judge people before you truly know them. The truth might surprise you.</i></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-41881652102165282142015-02-20T04:34:00.000-08:002015-02-20T04:34:00.666-08:00'I wish I did too' - A Real Life Heart Touching Story with Moral<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you love someone, Tell Them, Don’t let your heart be broken by words left unspoken.<br /> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">10th Grade:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so called ‘best friend’. I stared at her long, silky hair, and wished she was mine. But she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it. After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before. I handed them to her.<br /><br />She said ‘thanks’ and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.<br /><br />11th grade:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about how her love had broke her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn’t want to be alone, So I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go home.<br /><br />She looked at me, said ‘thanks’ and gave me a kiss on the cheek..I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.</span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">Senior year:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- One fine day she walked to my locker. “My date is sick” she said, ”hes not gonna go” well, I didn’t have a date, and in 7th grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would go together just as ‘best friends’.<br /><br />So we did. That night, after everything was over, I was standing at her front door step. I stared at her as She smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes.<br /><br />Then she said - “I had the best time, thanks!” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.<br /><br />Graduation:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine-but she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it.<br /><br />Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged her.<br /><br />Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said- ‘you’re my best friend, thanks’ and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.<br /><br />Marriage:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married now. and drive off to her new life, married to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t see me like that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and said ‘you came !’.<br /><br />She said ‘thanks’ and kissed me on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.<br /><br />Death:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- Years passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be my ‘best friend’.<br />At the service, they read a diary entry she had wrote in her high school years.<br /><br />This is what it read:<br /><br />‘I stare at him wishing he was mine, but he doesn’t notice me like that, and I know it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don’t want to be just friends,<br />I love him but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why. I wish he would tell me he loved me !<br /><br />………’I wish I did too…’<br />I thought to my self, and I cried.</span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-81110971119767455432015-02-20T04:31:00.004-08:002015-02-20T04:31:42.637-08:00'A Poor Man and his Wife' - A Heart Touching Real Life Story<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One day, his wife, who had very long hair asked him to buy her a comb for her hair to grow well and to be well-groomed.<br /><br />The man felt very sorry and said no. He explained that he did not even have enough money to fix the strap of his watch he had just broken. She did not insist on her request.<br /><br />The man went to work and passed by a watch shop, sold his damaged watch at a low price and went to buy a comb for his wife.<br /><br />He came home in the evening with the comb in his hand ready to give to his wife.<br /><br />He was surprised when he saw his wife with a very short hair cut.<br /><br />She had sold her hair and was holding a new watch band.<br /><br />Tears flowed simultaneously from their eyes, not for the futility of their actions, but for the reciprocity of their love.<br /><br /><i>MORAL - To love is nothing, to be loved is something but to love and to be loved by the one you love,that is EVERYTHING. Never take love for granted.</i></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-37675345576986556532015-02-20T04:30:00.001-08:002015-02-20T04:30:28.846-08:00'Birthday Gift' - A Heart Touching Real Life Story<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One Day An 11 Year Old Girl Asked Her Daddy, ”What Are You Going To Get Me For My 15th Birthday ?”<br /><br />The Father Replied,”There Is Much Time Left.”<br /><br />When The Girl Was 14 She Fainted And Was Rushed To The Hospital. The Doctor Came Out And Told Her Dad She Had A Bad Heart & She Is Probably Gonna Die…<br /><br />When She Was Lying In The Hospital Bed, She Said “Daddy… Have They Told You I Am Going To Die ?” The Father Replied; “No You Will Live” As He Left Weeping.<br /><br />She Said “How Can You Be Sure.” He Turned Around From The Door And Said”I Know.”<br /><br />She Turns 15 When She Is Recovering And Comes Home To Find A Letter On Her Bed. It Says : ”My Dearest Daughter, If You Are Reading This It Means All Went Well As I Told You. One Day You Asked Me What I Was Giving You For Your 15th Birthday,<br />I Didn’t Know Then But Now My Present To You Is MY HEART.”<br /><br />Her Father had Donated His Heart … !<br /><br />‘BLESSED INDEED IS THE MAN WHO HEARS MANY GENTLE VOICES CALL HIM FATHER’<br /><br />He makes Many silent Sacrifice for us ~ Love u Daddy;)</span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-23119712000304538462015-02-20T04:28:00.001-08:002015-02-20T04:28:42.359-08:00'Never judge anyone' - A Heart Touching Real Life Story with Moral<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A doctor entered the hospital in hurry after being called in for an urgent surgery. He answered the call asap, changed his clothes & went directly to the surgery block.<br /><br />He found the boy’s father pacing in the hall waiting for the doctor.<br /><br />On seeing him, the dad yelled: “Why did you take all this time to come? Don’t you know that my son’s life is in danger? Don’t you have any sense of responsibility?”<br /><br />The doctor smiled & said: “I am sorry, I wasn’t in the hospital & I came as fast as I could after receiving the call…… And now, I wish you’d calm down so that I can do my work”</span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Calm down?! What if your son was in this room right now, would you calm down? If your own son dies now what will you do??” said the father angrily<br /><br />The doctor smiled again & replied: “I will say what Job said in the Holy Book “From dust we came & to dust we return, blessed be the name of God”. Doctors cannot prolong lives. Go & intercede for your son, we will do our best by God’s grace”<br /><br />“Giving advises when we’re not concerned is so easy” Murmured the father.<br /><br />The surgery took some hours after which the doctor went out happy, “Thank goodness!, your son is saved!” And without waiting for the father’s reply he carried on his way running. “If you have any questions, ask the nurse!!”<br /><br />“Why is he so arrogant? He couldn’t wait some minutes so that I ask about my son’s state” Commented the father when seeing the nurse minutes after the doctor left.<br /><br />The nurse answered, tears coming down her face: “His son died yesterday in a road accident, he was at the burial when we called him for your son’s surgery. And now that he saved your son’s life, he left running to finish his son’s burial.”<br /><br /><i>MORAL: Never judge anyone….. because you never know how their life is & what they’re going through”<br /><br />Share And Inspire Others.</i></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-26707673060757024882015-02-20T04:21:00.000-08:002015-02-20T04:21:45.969-08:00'Slow Down and Enjoy Life' - A Real Life Moral Story<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">About ten years ago, a young and very successful executive named Josh was traveling down a Chicago neighborhood street. He was going a bit too fast in his sleek, black, 12 cylinder Jaguar XKE, which was only two months old.<br /><br />He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something.<br /><br />As his car passed, no child darted out, but a brick sailed out and-WHUMP! — it smashed into the Jag’s shiny black side door! SCREECH…!!!! Brakes slammed! Gears ground into reverse, and tires madly spun the Jag back to the spot from where the brick had been thrown.</span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">Josh jumped out of the car, grabbed the kid and pushed him up against a parked car. He shouted at the kid, “What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing?” Building up a head of steam, he went on. “That’s my new Jag, that brick you threw is gonna cost you a lot of money. Why did you throw it?”<br /><br />“Please, mister, please…I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to do!” pleaded the youngster. “I threw the brick because no one else would stop!”<br /><br />Tears were dripping down the boy’s chin as he pointed around the parked car. “It’s my brother, mister,” he said. “He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can’t lift him up.” Sobbing, the boy asked the executive, “Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He’s hurt and he’s too heavy for me.”<br /><br />Moved beyond words, the young executive tried desperately to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. Straining, he lifted the young man back into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts, checking to see that everything was going to be OK. He then watched the younger brother push him down the sidewalk toward their home.<br /><br />It was a long walk back to the sleek, black, shining, 12 cylinder Jaguar XKE – a long and slow walk. Josh never did fix the side door of his Jag. He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at him to get his attention.<br /><br />Some bricks are softer than others. Feel for the bricks of life coming at you. In the hustle bustle and the speed of life, are you missing out the joys of the present moments.<br /><br />Slow Down And Enjoy Life. It is Not Only the Scenery You Miss by Going too Fast….You Also Miss the Sense of Where You are Going and Why…</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /><img src="http://cs313918.vk.me/v313918595/84e7/NcqagXaYYxs.jpg" height="320" width="311" /></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-67332572606187014422015-02-20T04:17:00.002-08:002015-02-20T04:17:54.736-08:00'Christmas Miracle' - A Real Life Touching Story by Susan Morton Leonard<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is a real Christmas miracle story, happened in December 1997 in Wisconsin, USA. <br /> A little girl named Sarah had leukemia and was not expected to live to see Christmas. Her brother and grandmother went to the mall to ask Mark Lenonard who was a professional Santa Claus to visit the hospital to give Sarah the gift of hope through encouragement and prayer. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> A year later Sarah surprised Santa by showing up at the mall where he worked. Here goes the story. <br /> </span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">A little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at The Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin. The child climbed up on santa’s lap, holding a picture of a little girl.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Who is this?” – asked Santa, smiling. “Your friend? Your sister?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Yes, Santa.” – he replied.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “My sister, Sarah, who is very sick.” – he said sadly.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!” – the child exclaimed.<br /> “She misses you.” – he added softly.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy’s face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> When they finished their visit, the grandmother came over to help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but halted.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “What is it?” – Santa asked warmly.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Well, I know it’s really too much to ask you, Santa, but ..” – the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa’s elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “The girl in the photograph… my granddaughter well, you see … she has leukemia and isn’t expected to make it even through the holidays.” – she said through tear-filled eyes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Is there anyway, Santa, any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That’s all she’s asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “What if it were MY child lying in that hospital bed, dying?” – he thought with a sinking heart, “This is the least I can do.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked Rick, the assistant location manager how to get to Children’s Hospital.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Why?” – Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah’s grandmother earlier that day.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Common….I’ll take you there.” – Rick said softly. Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa. They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the grandmother and the girl’s brother he had met earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah’s mother stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah’s thin hair off her forehead.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> And another woman who he discovered later was Sarah’s aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with a weary, sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, “Ho, ho, ho!”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Santa!” – shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him.<br /> Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son — 9 years old — gazed up at him with wonder and excitement.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Her skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah’s face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa’s shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering “Thank you” as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she’d been a very good girl that year.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl’s mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah’s bed, holding hands.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels, “Oh, yes, Santa… I do!” – she exclaimed.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Well, I’m going to ask that angels watch over you.” – he said.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Laying one hand on the child’s head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing, softly, “Silent Night, Holy Night…. all is calm, all is bright…”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah’s frail, small hands in his own.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Now, Sarah,” – he said authoritatively, “you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> He knew it was risky proclaiming that to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he ‘had’ to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could — not dolls or games or toys — but the gift of HOPE.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Yes, Santa!” – Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Out in the hall, the minute Santa’s eyes met Rick’s, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Sarah’s mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and rushed to Santa’s side to thank him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “My only child is the same age as Sarah.” – he explained quietly. “This is the least I could do.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> They nodded with understanding and hugged him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> One year later, Santa Mark was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Hi, Santa! Remember me?!”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Of course, I do.” – Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her. After all, the secret to being a ‘good’ Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the ‘only’ child in the world at that moment.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “You came to see me in the hospital last year!”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Santa’s jaw dropped. Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> “Sarah!” – he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy — much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before.<br /> He looked over and saw Sarah’s mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> He had witnessed –and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about — this miracle of hope. This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, “Thank you, Father. ‘Tis a very, Merry Christmas!”<br /> <i><br /> By Susan Morton Leonard, Santa’s wife<br /> Santa’s name: Mark Leonard or Santa Mark</i></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-65675482328576035972015-02-20T04:07:00.002-08:002015-02-20T04:07:46.418-08:00'The Blind Boy' - A Touching Real Life Story<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A blind boy sat on the steps of a building with a hat by his feet. He held up a sign which said: “I am blind, please help.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> There were only a few coins in the hat.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> A man was walking by. He took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them into the hat. He then took the sign, turned it around, and wrote some words. He put the sign back so that everyone who walked by would see the new words.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Soon the hat began to fill up. A lot more people were giving money to the blind boy. That afternoon the man who had changed the sign came to see how things were.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> The boy recognized his footsteps and asked, “Were you the one who changed my sign this morning? What did you write?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQPTupFD7QmEdrKlhM44iW3AUiiYkZv0iFSF97krX3btoZuEpGbqg"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQPTupFD7QmEdrKlhM44iW3AUiiYkZv0iFSF97krX3btoZuEpGbqg" /></a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The man said, “I only wrote the truth. I said what you said but in a different way.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> What he had written was: <i>“Today is a beautiful day and I cannot see it.”</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Do you think the first sign and the second sign were saying the same thing?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Of course both signs told people the boy was blind. But the first sign simply said the boy was blind. The second sign told people they were so lucky that they were not blind. Should we be surprised that the second sign was more effective?<br /> <br /> <i>Moral of the story: Be thankful for what you have. Be creative. Be innovative. Think differently and positively. </i></span></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Invite others towards good with wisdom. Live life with no excuse and love with no regrets. When life gives you a 100 reasons to cry, show life that you have 1000 reasons to smile. Face your past without regret. Handle your present with confidence. Prepare for the future without fear. Keep the faith and drop the fear. </span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> Great men say, “Life has to be an incessant process of repair and reconstruction, of discarding evil and developing goodness…. In the journey of life, if you want to travel without fear, you must have the ticket of a good conscience.” </span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> The most beautiful thing is to see a person smiling… And even more beautiful is, knowing that you are the reason behind it!!!</span></span></i>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-83632234689037142842015-02-20T04:03:00.000-08:002015-02-20T04:03:17.446-08:00'One Glass of Milk' - A Touching Real Life Story by Howard Kelly<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, “How much do I owe you?” “You don’t owe me anything,” she replied. “Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness.” He said, “Then I thank you from my heart.”</span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.<br /> <br /> Year’s later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease. Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room. Dressed in his doctor’s gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She began to read the following words:<br /> <br /> <i>“Paid in full with one glass of milk” Signed, Dr. Howard Kelly</i></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-70845134222843914882015-02-19T20:37:00.003-08:002015-02-19T20:37:54.642-08:00'A Brother's Love' - A Touching Real Life Story of the Bond of Siblings<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">by Richard & Brenda Brisebois <br /> <br /> 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 found out that the new baby was going to be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sang to his sister in mommy's tummy he was building a bond of love with his little sister before he even met her.<br /> <br /> The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen, an active member of The Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee.<br /> <br /> In time, the labor pains came. Soon it was every five minutes, every three.. every minute. But serious complications arose during delivery and Karen found herself in hours of labor. Would a C-section be required? finally, after a long struggle, Michael's little sister was born. But she was in very serious condition. With a siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushed the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee.<br /> <br /> The days inched by. The little girl got worse. The pediatrician had to tell the parents, "There is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst." Karen and her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot. They had fixed up a special room in their house for their new baby but now they found themselves having to plan for a funeral. Michael, however, kept begging his parents to let him see his sister.</span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">"I want to sing to her," he kept saying. Week two in intensive care looked as if a funeral would come before the week was over. Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in Intensive care, Karen decided to take Michael whether they liked it or not! If he didn't see his sister right then, he may never see her alive. She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU. He looked like a walking laundry basket. But the head nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed, "Get that kid out here now! No children are allowed."<br /> <br /> The mother rose up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glared steel-eyed right into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!"<br /> <br /> Karen towed Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. After a moment, he began to sing. In the pure-hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sang: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray ---" Instantly the baby girl seemed to respond. The pulse rate began to calm down and become steady.<br /> <br /> "Keep on singing, Michael," encouraged Karen with tears in her eyes. "You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away". As Michael sang to his sister, the baby's ragged, strained breathing became as smooth as a kitten's purr.<br /> <br /> "Keep on singing, sweetheart!!!"<br /> <br /> "The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms. . . Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing rest, seemed to sweep over her. "Keep on singing, Michael." Tears had now conquered the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glowed.<br /> <br /> "You are my sunshine, my only Sunshine, please don't, take my sunshine away..."<br /> <br /> The next day...the very next day...the little girl was 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!<br /> <br /> NEVER GIVE UP ON THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE. LOVE IS SO INCREDIBLY POWERFUL.</span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-79953480475253602312015-02-19T20:32:00.005-08:002015-02-19T20:32:57.223-08:00'The Wallet' - A Touching Real Life Love Story by Rev. Mary<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">by Rev. Mary. <br /> <br /> As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so<br /> I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a<br /> crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years. <br /> <br /> The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the<br /> return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then<br /> I saw the dateline--1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago. <br /> <br /> It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue<br /> stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a "Dear John"<br /> letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the<br /> writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she<br /> wrote that she would always love him.<br /> <br /> It was signed, Hannah. <br /> <br /> It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name<br /> Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information,<br /> the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope. <br /> <br /> "Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the<br /> owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a<br /> phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?" </span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you<br /> the number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my<br /> story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few<br /> minutes and then she was back on the line. "I have a party who will speak<br /> with you." <br /> <br /> I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the<br /> name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!" <br /> <br /> "Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked.<br /> <br /> "I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some<br /> years ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter." <br /> <br /> She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living. <br /> <br /> I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home. <br /> <br /> This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a<br /> big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a<br /> letter that was almost 60 years old? <br /> <br /> Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us. " <br /> <br /> Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her.<br /> "Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to take a chance, she might be in<br /> the day room watching television." <br /> <br /> I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a<br /> guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large<br /> building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah. <br /> <br /> She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in<br /> her eye.<br /> <br /> I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second<br /> she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took<br /> a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever<br /> had with Michael." <br /> <br /> She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said Softly, "I loved<br /> him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too<br /> young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor." <br /> <br /> "Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you<br /> should find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a<br /> moment, almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said<br /> smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no<br /> one ever matched up to Michael..." <br /> <br /> I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor<br /> and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able to<br /> help you?" <br /> <br /> I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I<br /> think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find<br /> the owner of this wallet." <br /> <br /> I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red<br /> lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute!<br /> That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that bright red<br /> lacing. He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at<br /> least three times." <br /> <br /> "Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake.<br /> <br /> "He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's<br /> wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks." <br /> <br /> I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her<br /> what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed<br /> that Mr. Goldstein would be up. <br /> <br /> On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the day<br /> room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man." <br /> <br /> We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, "Oh, it is missing!" <br /> <br /> "This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?" <br /> <br /> I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with<br /> relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this<br /> afternoon. I want to give you a reward." <br /> <br /> "No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the<br /> letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet." <br /> <br /> The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?"<br /> <br /> "Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is."<br /> <br /> He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me," he begged. <br /> <br /> "She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly.<br /> <br /> The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where<br /> she is? I want to call her tomorrow." He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her. " <br /> <br /> "Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me."<br /> <br /> We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened<br /> and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where<br /> Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to<br /> her. <br /> <br /> "Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in<br /> the doorway. "Do you know this man?" <br /> <br /> She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word.<br /> Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Hannah, it's Michael. Do you<br /> remember me?" <br /> <br /> She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!"<br /> He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with<br /> tears streaming down our faces. <br /> <br /> "See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will<br /> be." <br /> <br /> About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home.<br /> "Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!" <br /> <br /> It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed<br /> up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked<br /> beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their<br /> best man. <br /> <br /> The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a<br /> 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had<br /> to see this couple. <br /> <br /> A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years. </span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-75871091975301424342015-02-19T20:03:00.000-08:002015-02-19T20:03:49.558-08:00'Do it today!' - A Real Life Story of Regret<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When I was superintendent of schools in Palo Alto, California, Polly Tyner, the president of our board of trustees, wrote a letter that was printed in the Palo Alto Times. Polly's son, Jim, had great difficulty in school. He was classified as educationally handicapped and required a great deal of patience on the part of his parents and teachers. But Jim was a happy kid with a great smile that lit up the room. His parents acknowledged his academic difficulties, but always tried to help him see his strengths so that he could walk with pride. Shortly after Jim finished high school, he was killed in a motorcycle accident. After his death, his mother submitted this letter to the newspaper. <br /> <br /> Today we buried our 20-year-old son. He was killed instantly in a motorcycle accident on Friday night. How I wish I had known when I talked to him last that it would be the last time. If I had only known I would have said, "Jim, I love you and I'm so very proud of you." <br /> <br /> I would have taken the time to count the many blessings he brought to the lives of the many who loved him. I would have taken time to appreciate his beautiful smile, the sound of his laughter, his genuine love of people. <br /> <br /> When you put all the good attributes on the scale and you try to balance all the irritating traits such as the radio which was always too loud, the haircut that wasn't to our liking, the dirty socks under the bed, etc., the irritations don't amount to much. <br /> <br /> I won't get another chance to tell my son all I would have wanted him to hear, but, other parents, you do have a chance. Tell your young people what you would want them to hear if you knew it would be your last conversation. The last time I talked to Jim was the day he died. He called me to say, "Hi, Mom! I just called to say I love you. Got to go to work. Bye." He gave me something to treasure forever. <br /> <br /> If there is any purpose at all to Jim's death, maybe it is to make others appreciate more of life and to have people, especially families, take the time to let each other know just how much we care. <br /> <br /> You may never have another chance. Do it today! </span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-36603098968644118492015-02-19T19:58:00.000-08:002015-02-19T20:33:27.623-08:00'Rescuing Hug' - A Touching Real Life Story of Twins<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" src="http://www.touchinglovestories.com/images/rescuing_hug.jpe" height="200" width="127" /><br /> This is a picture from an article called "The Rescuing Hug". The article details the first week of life of a set of twins, Kyrie (red dot) and Brielle (blue dot).<br /> <br /> Apparently, each were in their respective incubators, and one was not expected to live. A hospital nurse fought against the hospital rules and placed the babies in one incubator. When they were placed together, the healthier of the two threw an arm over her sister in an endearing embrace. The smaller baby's heart rate stabilized and her temperature rose to normal. <br /> <br /> They both survived, and are thriving, in fact, the two girls went home to share a crib, and still snuggle. The twins are happy kindergartners now. The hospital changed their policy after they saw the effect of putting the two girls together, and now they bed multiples together. <br /> <br /> Let us not forget to embrace those whom we love and never underestimate the power of a hug!</span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-73300743363362499722015-02-19T19:56:00.001-08:002015-02-19T19:56:11.210-08:00An Amazing True Love Story by Rob Reid<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in urban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work.<br /> <br /> They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc. and on Dec. 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.<br /> <br /> On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sunk when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 6 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. <br /> <br /> On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, hand-made, ivory colored, crochet tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross-embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.</span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc. to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet.<br /> <br /> "Pastor," she asked, "Where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crochet into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and here husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.<br /> <br /> The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home. That was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.<br /> <br /> What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he was not leaving. <br /> <br /> The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike? He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for here safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a concentration camp. He never saw his wife or his home again for all the 35 years in between.<br /> <br /> The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and the pastor saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.<br /> <br /> <b>Disseminated by Pastor Rob Reid</b></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-66014416410672651972015-02-19T07:38:00.001-08:002015-02-19T07:38:30.064-08:00Real Life Insurance Stories: 'Now we have money for retirement!' - Ted H., Baltimore<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thank God we never needed it. Now we have money for retirement! <br /><br />Thirty two years later and I am as ornery as the day I married Linda. Linda and I were on the internet looking for information on annuities and came across your site. I read your stories and wanted to tell ours. <br /><br />I bought a permanent policy 32 years ago because I loved my wife and if I died, I wanted to ensure she and my family could continue having the same level of living. Now if I didn't die, we would have enough money for retirement. HA! HA! HA! I beat the odds and out lived the need for life insurance as my family has all grown up and moved away. I get the cash! I am sure I will die some day, but until then, I do know I have enough money for Linda and I to last a life time. <br /><br /><b>Ted H. - Baltimore</b></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-755458777790298242015-02-19T07:37:00.002-08:002015-02-19T07:37:27.669-08:00Real Life Insurance Stories: 'You're never too young for Life Insurance!' - Kim K., Ohio<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>You’re never too young for Life Insurance! </b><br /><br />Some of your stories brought back so many painful memories, I felt it important to share how one day I insured all my kids and never asked the price. <br /><br />Back in 1979, Mark, the son of a very close friend of mind was put to rest. Mark was only 14 years old when he was taken from us. <br /><br />For the first 8 years of Mark's life, he was as healthy and normal as any 8 year old kid. At the age of 9, Mark started having bad stomach cramps and started losing lots of weight. After many months of tests and hospitalizations, Mark was diagnosed as having Crohns disease. It took 4 years, three major surgeries, lots of horrible health food, and a colostomy to finally get Mark's life back on track. <br /><br />Everything was going great for Mark, that was until a year later at the age of 14, when Mark started having sores and other immune issues. It turns out that he had received the HIV Virus from a blood transfusion during one of his surgeries. <br /><br />Unfortunately Mark died within the year. <br /><br />Now you can imagine the funeral cost, doctor bills from the original surgeries and now the HIV costs that followed. Our friends did have medical insurance through work, but let me just say, their life time cap was reached quickly. The unfortunate part is they had plenty of insurance on the parents, but none on the kids. <br /><b><br />Kim K., Ohio</b></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-60340045174334103262015-02-19T07:36:00.002-08:002015-02-19T07:36:30.474-08:00Real Life Insurance Stories: 'Divorce is hard enough!' - Vicky in Arizona<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Divorce is hard enough! </b><br /><br />When I was divorced ten years ago, I never really understood the reason why the judge and my life sales person recommended that I get a life policy on my ex-husband and that I should be the owner. <br /><br />Now today it is all too clear! First of all, knowing my ex-husband, if I was the beneficiary and he was the owner of the policy, I would get nothing. That is because if he stopped paying the premium, I would never have been notified and my kids and I would have been at risk of getting nothing when the policy expired for nonpayment. <br /><br />Now, since I am the owner of the policy, I am responsible for the payment of the policy even though he was required by the judge to make the payments. And you know what? About four years ago, he did stop paying the life premium. I was notified of nonpayment and had the chance to immediately make the payments to bring the policy current. Thank God I did. He died three months from that day. My family and I now have all the child support we need and a bright future. I am sharing this story because someone did a good deed for me and I want to pass it on. <br /><br /><b>Vicky in Arizona</b></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-56832721162192400182015-02-19T07:35:00.003-08:002015-02-19T07:35:37.583-08:00Real Life Insurance Stories: 'My husband is dead'<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Unemployed and, Interviewing, we had no life insurance in the meantime. </b><br /><br />My husband is dead!<br /><br />Tim was such as wonderful father and friend. He got up so early every morning and commuted so far to give his family a great life. He was so compassionate and would help anyone. We will miss him dearly, but we know he is in heaven looking down on us. <br /><br />Tim and I sat down two years ago with a life insurance agent and they clearly educated us on life insurance and the different types of policies available. They did a thorough needs analysis and then made some recommendations. There is one eye opener that I remember to this day! Tim was making about $250,000 a year and had two times his salary in Life Insurance provided by his employer. Sounds Great! Wrong! Our life insurance agent explained that his insurance at work should only be considered as icing on the cake and to manage our life insurance policies outside work. The reason was, if he was laid off, his insurance would cease in most cases. Not to mention he would be much older or he could have developed a condition that would make him uninsurable. GET THE POINT! <br /><br />This was the grace in saving my family today. It turns out Tim was laid off from his company and was driving into Chicago for an interview when he was killed in a fatal multi-car accident. Without the knowledge and insight of the life insurance agent, what we thought was adequate coverage would have left my family and I homeless considering Tim lost his life insurance benefits when he was laid off. <br /><br />There aren't many nights that go by that I do not thank God for bringing the life insurance agent into our lives. It’s almost two years later and we are still getting over the death, but the three of us have enough money to handle any challenge that comes our way. <br /><br />Terri O., Chicago <br /><br />P.S. Much applause to you guys for making these experiences available to others.</span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-28915238592467712762015-02-19T07:31:00.004-08:002015-02-19T07:31:42.918-08:00Loving, Leaving Las Vegas - Las Vegas Valley Couple<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>LOVING, LEAVING LAS VEGAS</b><br /><br />The first time Pete and Marty Walsh drove through Nevada, they were not impressed.<br /><br />“We had a Rand McNally road atlas we were using to navigate around the country,” Marty said. “We made little notes about the places on it. On the Nevada page, there was just one big word, ‘UGH!’ across the whole page.”<br /><br />The pair had driven across the state on U.S. Highway 50, dubbed “the loneliest road in America” in a Life magazine article.<br /><br />“At the time, I just saw it as barren and empty,” Pete said. “I grew up in Ireland, and all the mountains there are green and covered with life. After being here a few years, I saw those mountains with different eyes. I’d say now that ‘naked and raw’ is a better way of saying it. You can see billions of years of history on those mountains, and then you’ve got Vegas, where everything is new below them.”<br /><br />Before moving to Las Vegas in 1999, the Walshes hadn’t lived anywhere for more than a few years. They longed to see places they hadn’t been. When they arrived here, they ended up setting down the deepest roots they had ever had, buying a home, setting up the Trifecta Gallery downtown and helping transform the 18b Arts District.<br /><br />Now, they’re pulling up stakes again and heading back to the country farmland where Pete’s family has lived for generations.<br /><br />“We’ve said every year, ‘Is this the year we go back?’ and it never was,” Pete said. “This year, we thought, if we don’t do it now, we might never, so we’re going there, and we’re building our little dream house.”<br /><br />The couple met on Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts, where Marty had moved to start a deli with a friend while Pete way plying his skills as a carpenter.<br /><br />“We met at a restaurant and went on a date the next night,” Marty said. “I was very impressed that he was such a gentleman.”<br /><br />Both thought of it as a summer romance, but when Pete was called back home to Ireland because of an illness in the family, he couldn’t stop thinking about Marty.<br /><br />“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I guess that’s the case,” Pete said. “Maybe we wouldn’t have stayed together if I hadn’t gone home, but when I came back, we got pretty serious.”<br /><br />The couple married on Chappaquiddick Island in Massachusetts and lived on Martha’s Vineyard for eight years, with side trips to visit other places, including the long road trip that took them through Nevada the first time.<br /><br />“We did a trip around the states in a Volkswagen bus,” Pete said. “We went 22,000 miles and went through 46 states in a hippie van.”<br /><br />Their trips often led to places they didn’t expect. After spending the holidays with Marty’s parents in Louisville, Ky., they headed south to spend the winter somewhere warm.<br /><br />“We were thinking St. Thomas or the Virgin Islands — someplace like that,” Pete said. “We stopped at a youth hostel in Georgia and ended up running the place.”<br /><br />The hostel was managed by the owner’s son, who was called to the Peace Corps about the time the Walshes showed up. They were hired to manage the place and lived that winter in a treehouse on 90 acres of Georgia forest.<br /><br />Pete and Marty came to Las Vegas to get in on the building boom, but Marty’s art and gallery soon became the center of the couple’s lives. Pete helped Marty renovate the gallery, and they ran it together, with Marty as the public face, choosing art, nurturing artists and bringing in notable speakers, while Pete quietly held things together in the background.<br /><br />The Walshes have at least a few more months to work things out as they trim their belongings, say their farewells and prepare to head back across the ocean. They’ll keep in touch with their friends in Las Vegas and keep an eye on the local art scene.<br /><br />Marty believes the local art scene is poised to move on to its next evolution. She feels that Pete’s description of the Nevada landscape is an apt one of what they’re leaving behind.<br /><br />“Naked and raw — that’s a good way of putting it,” she said. “I think that’s kind of a metaphor for the whole state and the arts district. It’s open and exposed and ready to grow.”<br /><br /><b>— F. Andrew Taylor, East Valley View staff writer</b></span></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-19368463131832429362015-02-19T07:31:00.001-08:002015-02-19T07:31:05.642-08:00Marriage Strengthened By Troubles - Las Vegas Valley Couple<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>MARRIAGE STRENGTHENED BY troubles</b><br /><br />When Henderson couple Eddie and Antoinette Garcia married 13 years ago, they became husband and wife. However, when Eddie’s limbs were amputated because of an illness, the couple not only re-learned their roles as husband and wife, they also became a man with no hands or feet and a caretaker.<br /><br />Although they consider each challenge temporary, it’s clear their love is permanent.<br /><br />“In the beginning, it was very hard,” Antoinette said. “He would get upset, or I would get upset, and I would be like, ‘You know what? We have to remember that this is temporary. Everything is temporary. You’re going to learn how to do this. We’re going to learn how to do this.’ ”<br /><br />The couple’s love story began as acquaintances in elementary school when Antoinette’s mother would take her, Eddie and his brother to school. It wasn’t until high school that a friendship developed, and they began attending school games, going out to eat and talking on the phone together.<br /><br />“I still remember my mom knocking on the door at 3 a.m. telling me to cut it off, so we had to sneak the phone calls late at night,” Eddie said. “We just continued our friendship, and we talked about anything and everything or sometimes nothing at all.”<br /><br />After a few years of “officially dating,” Antoinette went shopping, put down a deposit on an engagement ring and called Eddie, who was home watching a football game.</span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">“There was no proposal,” Antoinette said. “It was, ‘We’re getting married. Do you want a say in it or not?’ ”<br /><br />The Garcias married Aug. 16, 2001, on a beach in Hawaii. Eddie said he contemplated filing for a divorce a few months later when Antoinette had “extreme mood swings” during a family trip. He was unaware that she was pregnant.<br /><br />“I was so embarrassed. I thought she had just lost it, and we were going to have to get a divorce and move on,” Eddie said. “When she told me she was pregnant, all those feelings immediately disappeared. There was no doubt. I understood.”<br /><br />After the birth of daughter Haley, the couple had four miscarriages while trying for a second child. <br /><br />Looking for a fresh start in Southern California, they tried to purchase an investment home in Las Vegas, but the loan required that they live and work in the valley.<br /><br />Desperate to provide for his family, Eddie moved to the valley on a whim to live in the house and work as a teacher for the Clark County School District. Antoinette joined Eddie after a year and became pregnant with son Ryan; however, the couple lost their house during the recession.<br /><br />While teaching at Canyon Springs High School, Eddie fell ill with what he thought was strep throat. Within days, Eddie’s internal organs began to fail, so doctors placed him in a medically induced coma. The medications used to save his organs caused poor circulation in his hands and feet, forcing doctors to amputate them.<br /><br />“After the surgeries, I told (Antoinette) that I understood if she wanted to leave me, but she just looked at me like I was crazy,” Eddie said. “She didn’t even hesitate. She just said, ‘No, we’re in this together.’ ”<br /><br />Once discharged from the hospital, Antoinette became the hands and feet of the relationship by helping Eddie shower, get dressed and put on his prosthetic legs.<br /><br />“There’s no room for an ego in our relationship. None at all,” Antoinette said. “Even though we still have them, we try not to because he needs to tell me what he needs, and I need to do it. If he needs ice in his water, I need to put ice in his water. It’s not a simple request; it’s a meaningful request for him.”<br /><br />Although Antoinette is sympathetic to Eddie’s disability, he said she does not cater to him.<br /><br />“One of my favorite stories from the hospital is when I had just had my hands amputated, and I wanted a drink of water,” Eddie said. <br /><br />“I could have technically reached over and got a sip with the straw, but I tried to be a big baby about it. … She looked at me and she goes, ‘No sympathy; you can get it. Get it.’ After that, I knew I was going to be fine.”<br /><br />From cooking to coaching sports, the Garcias have adapted back to their active lifestyle and learned to remain positive.<br /><br />“When things get tough, the easy thing to do is give up, but we just keep battling things together as they come,” Eddie said. “Our journey together is not over. It’s just beginning.”<br /><br /><b>— Caitlyn Belcher, Henderson View staff writer</b></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6565352714420574234.post-67560522655917661522015-02-19T07:30:00.000-08:002015-02-19T07:30:04.457-08:00Partners In Business, Life - Las Vegas Valley Couple<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>PARTNERS IN BUSINESS, LIFE</b><br />Love stories often have the same narrative: Two people meet, fall in love, do crazy and romantic things together and get married. It often ends there or will fast-forward to the future with the couple raising happy children and staring into each other’s eyes as if they were on their first date.<br /><br />The reality of marriage is far from a Hollywood plot, but it can be just as beautiful.<br /><br />Dina Proto and Dina “Dom” Poist-Proto are the faces behind Teazled, an LGBT greeting card company. They came up with their business after witnessing their children struggle to find the right card for their two-mother household. While their business is now blooming, their marriage wasn’t always easy.<br /><br />The couple met 10 years ago while working as nurses at a local hospice. Dina was married with children, and Dom was in an eight-year relationship with her then-fiance.<br /><br />“We became friends first, but then I don’t know what came over me,” Dom said. “We were standing at a nurses station, and I just looked at her, and I said, ‘Have you ever thought about being with another woman?’ She looked up and said, ‘No!’ and put her head down. That was the turning point of our friendship.”<br /><br />Despite Dina’s answer, the couple knew they had something beyond friendship. Shortly after becoming friends, Dina divorced for the second time, and Dom filed for divorce three months after being married.</span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;">The pair began dating in August 2005, and on Valentine’s Day 2006, Dina gave Dom a card with a heart-shaped candy that said, “Marry Me?”<br /><br />“I stared down at it, and I remember thinking, ‘Yes, I want to,’ but a little part of me wasn’t 100 percent sure,” Dom said. “So I said no, and I kept the heart and tucked it away.”<br /><br />“Our relationship almost ended there,” Dina said. “But I knew (she’d) fold.”<br /><br />Two years later, Dom proposed to Dina with the same heart-shaped candy she placed inside a box.<br /><br />They married in September 2008 in Laguna Beach, Calif. Reality caught up with them a year later when Dina opted to have a bilateral mastectomy.<br /><br />“I didn’t have breast cancer; they caught it before it got to that point,” Dina said. “But that experience taught me how to re-evaluate life. It pushed us to (start our business).”<br /><br />Teazled was started in 2011.<br /><br />Dom’s mother, who was against the couple’s relationship in the beginning, inspired messages written inside the cards. It took her five years to come to terms with Dom’s choice.<br /><br />The couple dealt with the emotional heartache of having a family member against their relationship, but despite the challenges, Dom’s mother finally came to terms with her daughter’s relationship.<br /><br />“Now she calls Dina more than she calls me,” Dom said. “You really don’t know about the good times until you’ve gone through bad times.”<br /><br /><b>— Sandy Lopez, North View staff writer</b></span>TerraZetzzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17331927789263836723noreply@blogger.com0