The Most Important Part of the Body

Credit: Ron Sanderson

What do you think is the most important part of your body?

I recently came across this story on “Inspirational Stories for Your Soul” that I thought was intriguing and which raised a good question…what is the most important part of the human body? Can you guess what it might be? The answer may surprise…and inspire you!

My mother used to ask me what is the most important part of the body and, through the years, I would take a guess at what I thought was the correct answer.
When I was younger, I thought sound was very important to us as humans so I said “my ears, mommy”.

She said “No, many people are deaf. But you keep thinking about it and I will ask you again soon.”
Several years passed before she asked me again. Since my last attempt, I contemplated a correct answer. So I told her “Mommy, sight is very important to everybody, so it must be our eyes.”
She looked at me and told me that I was learning fast but the answer is not correct because there are many people who are blind.

Stumped again, I continued my quest for knowledge and over the years she asked me a couple more times and always the same answer “No. But you are getting smarter every year, my young child.”
Then last year my Grandpa died. Everybody was hurt. Everybody was crying. Even my father cried. I remember that especially because it is only the second time I saw him cry.

My Mom looked at me when it was our turn to say our final good-bye to Grandpa.
She asked me “Do you know the most important body part yet? And I was shocked she asked me this now. I always thought this was a game between her and me.

She saw the confusion on my face and told me, “This question is very important. It shows that you have really lived in your life. For every body part you gave me in the past, I have told you that it was wrong and given you an example why. But today is the day you need to learn this important lesson.”
She looked down at me like only a mother can. I saw her eyes well up with tears. She said,
“Son the most important body part is your shoulder.” Was it because it held up my head?
She replied, “No, because it can hold the head of a friend or loved one when they cry. Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on sometime in life, my son.

I only hope that you have enough love and friends that you will always have a shoulder to cry on when you need it.”
Then and there I knew the most important body part was not selfish, it was sympathetic to the pain of OTHERS.
You are a friend and, whenever you want, you can cry on my shoulder!!!

People will forget what you said.
People will forget what you did,
BUT REMEMBER…
People will never forget how you made them feel.

A Child’s Beautiful Heart

This story was written by a wonderful mother to honor the memory of her beautiful Billy, who was taken from her much too soon.... But not before showing her the true face of God, in a little sunburned body.

A Child’s Beautiful Heart

It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through.

Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon...we would lose everything. It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes.

I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort...trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods.

This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods, run back to the house. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking up on him). He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very careful not to spill the water he held in them...maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand. When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree.

I followed him back to the house; to a spigot that we had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back. And it came clear to me. The trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me to help him. It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands! When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting..." was all he said. As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known working so hard to save another life. As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops...and more drops...and more. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride. Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence...that miracles don't really exist…that it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that...I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm...just like that actions of one little boy saved another.

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Author: Sabrina, Georgia

Source: tripod.com

Photo Credit: Gareth W. Evans, Flickr.com

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Note: In addition to writing my own blogs or stories, I also like to search for stories and other inspiring, motivating, or encouraging material from around the Web and other people. If you see an article, story, or photo that you have written or created and want it removed, please feel free to let me know. I try to give credit to the people and/or web sites where I find my information when I can.

A Caring Heart: How Much Do You Care For People?

A Caring Heart: How Much Do You Care For People?

~ Dr. Robert Gilbert ~

ehow.com

People don’t care how much you know until they know how much they care.

Did you ever realize that when you meet a person who cares, you know it instantly? You don’t have to spend six months with them until it finally dawns on you, “Wow, they really care.”

I had this instant recognition last spring when I visited the Charles J. Riley School 9 in Paterson, New Jersey. Within moments of entering the building, I knew I was in a caring, nurturing environment. I could feel it in the air.

My original assumption was supported when I walked into the main office and saw the Charles J. Riley School Motto:

• The schoolwork I am asking you to do is important.
• I know that you can do it.
• I won’t give up on you.

Now know that you might not be a teacher by profession, but I also know that in some respect, you are someone’s teacher. Whether you’re a manager, a mom, a dad, a relative, or a friend, you can show someone you care by:

• Caring enough to do important things with them or helping them with important things like their problems.
• Caring enough to believe in their abilities.
• Caring enough to stick by them through the tough times and not give up on them.

Right now think of three people who have made a significant positive impact on your life. I would guess that one thing these people have in common is that they really care for you.

Marian Wright Edelman once said, “You can change the world if you care enough.”

Remember…once people know how much you care, then they will care how much you know.

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If you want each new article emailed to you, please let me know at richmullercoach@gmail.com

LIFE IS AWESOME!!!

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Note: In addition to writing my own blogs / stories, I also like to search for stories and other inspiring / motivating / encouraging things from around the World Wide Web. If you see an article or story that you have written and want it removed, please feel free to let me know. I do try to give credit to the people and/or web sites that I find the information when I can.

A Story of Compassion - Unconditional Love

Many times in life, we fail to care and love those people around us. Never judge a person by their looks or a book by its cover because all these could be deceiving. Give everyone an equal opportunity to share their life with you…because everybody needs a little love, care and a need to be wanted. I hope that after reading today's story, we will show more attention to the people around us before it's too late.

“Ugly”

~ Author Unknown ~

bizmology.hoovers.com

Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who “Ugly” was. “Ugly” was the resident tomcat. “Ugly” loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love.

The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on “Ugly”.

To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.

His tail has long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw "Ugly" there was the same reaction. "That's one ugly cat!"

All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. “Ugly” always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around your feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day “Ugly” shared his love with the neighbors’ huskies. They did not respond kindly, and “Ugly” was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent “Ugly's” sad life was almost at an end.

“Ugly” lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear- “Ugly”, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.

At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. “Ugly” just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.

“Ugly” died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. “Ugly” taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love others more truly and deeply.

How often do we reject or stay away from an ugly person or people who may not be that good-looking, be less fortunate than we are, or who are unpleasant to have around you? How many times do we turn away those people who are just crying out and begging for a little love and affection?

On the other hand…how many of us are like “Ugly”? No matter what people did to him or how mean they treated him ALWAYS was looking for a friend and had an endless amount of love and faithfulness to the ones that treated him badly?

Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked and beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be "Ugly".

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If you want each new article emailed to you, please let me know at richmullercoach@gmail.com

LIFE IS AWESOME!!!

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

Note: In addition to writing my own blogs / stories, I also like to search for stories and other inspiring / motivating / encouraging things from around the World Wide Web. If you see an article or story that you have written and want it removed, please feel free to let me know. I do try to give credit to the people and/or web sites that I find the information when I can.

Scars: Dealing With the Scars of Life

Scars: Dealing With the Scars of Life

~ Author Unknown ~

dreamstime.com

Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore. His mother, in the house was looking out the window when she saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could. Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him. From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator. Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.

The newspaper reporter, who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my mom wouldn't let go."

You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, maybe not from an alligator, or anything quite so dramatic, but we have the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But, some wounds are because God has refused to let go. In the midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you. It might be hard to believe sometimes, but God loves you. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way. If you ask Him and allow Him, He will take care of you.

Sometimes in life, we can wade into treacherous situations. The “swimming hole” of life is filled with danger and peril - and we forget that an enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins, and if you have the scars of His love on your arms, be very, very grateful…..He did not - and will never - let you go.

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