I have a choice about today

I  woke up early today, excited over all I get to do before the clock strikes midnight. I have responsibilities to fulfill today and I am important. My job is to choose what kind of day I am going to have.

Today I can complain because the weather is rainy or I can be thankful that the grass is getting watered for free.

Today I can feel sad that I don't have more money or I can be glad that my finances encourage me to plan my purchases wisely and guide me away from waste.

Today I can grumble about my health or I can rejoice that I am alive.

Today I can lament over all that my parents didn't give me when I was growing up or I can feel grateful that they allowed me to be born.

Today I can cry because roses have thorns or I can celebrate that thorns have roses.

Today I can mourn my lack of friends or I can excitedly embark upon a quest to discover new relationships.

Today I can whine because I have to go to work or I can shout for joy because I have a job to do.

Today I can complain because I have to go to school oreagerly open my mind and fill it with rich new tidbits of knowledge.

Today I can murmur dejectedly because I have to do housework or I can appreciate that I have a place to call home.

Today stretches ahead of me, waiting to be shaped. And here I am, the sculptor who gets to do the shaping.

What today will be like is up to me. I get to choose what kind of day I will have!

Have a GREAT DAY... unless you have other plans and please remember, a 'Smile' will make the days go better.

-- Author Unknown

Taking Charge of Your Balloon

A man in a hot air balloon, realizing he was lost, lowered it to shout to a fellow on the ground, “The wind’s blown me off course. Can you tell me where I am?”

The man replied, “Sure. You’re hovering about 60 feet over this wheat field.”

“You must be an engineer,” the balloonist yelled.

“I am. How did you know?” the man replied.

“Well, everything you told me is technically correct but of absolutely no use.”

The engineer retorted, “You’re an executive, right?”

“How did you know?” the balloonist responded.

“Well, you were drifting in no particular direction before you asked my help and you’re still lost, but now it’s my fault.”

The balloon is a good metaphor for our lives. At first, all we want to do is rise as high as we can in terms of money, position and prestige. Yet as we rise wind currents push us sideways. Eventually, many of us discover that we’re on a very different course than we intended, a long way from the spot we took off from or hoped to end up at. So we blame the wind or anything else.

What we have to realize is that our power of choice is a steering mechanism that lets us respond to each breeze and gust. We can drift with or go against the current. Like haphazard wind currents, unplanned events beyond our control affect the direction of our lives. But, in the end, what we do and become is determined by our choices. The key is to be attentive, to look around to be sure we are going where we want to go.

-- Author Unknown

Life is Simple

My first born son is mentally handicapped, yet in so many ways he is far wiser than I am. He has an intuitive knowledge of what is important in life. When we go out he looks people in the eye, calls them by name, and shares his smile far more easily than I do. He goes through life with a soul full of love, joy, and kindness that he gives to everyone he meets. He makes others feel better. He makes each day shine brighter. He makes this world more beautiful just by being in it. He may not understand everything in life, but he knows how to live happily and lovingly. He shows me everyday that life is simple. It is we who make it complicated.

You see, life is just the choices we make each day.

We can choose to love or we can choose to be afraid.
We can choose to help or we can choose to turn away.
We can choose to forgive or we can choose to hate.
We can choose to be kind or we can choose to be cruel.
We can choose to trust or we can choose to be suspicious.
We can choose to give or we can choose to take.
We can choose to serve or we can choose to be selfish.
We can choose to laugh or we can choose to sulk.
We can choose to cry or we can choose to hide our hearts.
We can choose to smile or we can choose to stress.
We can choose to be at peace or we can choose to be at war within ourselves.
We can choose to live or we can choose to just exist.
We can choose to believe God loves us or we can choose to live in doubt.
We can choose to shine our souls or we can choose to dwell in darkness.
We can choose to make this world more like Heaven or we can choose to make this world more like Hell.

My son knows these choices by heart and always makes the right ones. I hope to one day get there as well. Until then I will do my best to live simply, to be wise, and to choose well. Until then I will do my best to love God, myself, and others. May you do the same.


-- Joseph J. Mazzella

1000 Marbles

The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it's the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it's the unbounded joy of not having to ... be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time.

I turned the volume up on my radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning talk show. I heard an older sounding chap with a golden voice. You know the kind, he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business himself.

He was talking about "a thousand marbles" to someone named "Tom." I was intrigued and sat down to listen to what he had to say.

"Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter's dance recital."

He continued: "Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities." And that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand marbles."

"You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years."

"Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900 which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime.

Now stick with me Tom, I'm getting to the important part."

"It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail," he went on, "and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy."

"So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to roundup 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in my workshop next to the radio. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away."

"I found that watching the marbles diminish caused me to focused more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out, to help get your priorities straight."

"Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday then God has blessed me with a little extra time to be with my loved ones."

"It was nice to talk to you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your loved ones, and I hope to meet you again someday. Have a good morning!"

You could have heard a pin drop when he hung up the phone. Even the show's moderator didn't have anything to say for a few moments. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to do some work that morning, then go to the gym. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss.

"C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast."

"What brought this on?" she asked with a smile. "Oh, nothing special," I said. " It has just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids. Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we're out? I need to buy some marbles."


-- Author Unknown

Choosing Happiness

A customer sat staring sul­lenly into his drink. "Something wrong?" asked the bar­tender.

"Well, two months ago," the young man replied, "my grandfather died and left me $85,000 in oil stock."

"That doesn't sound like something to get upset about," said the bartender.

"But last month, my uncle passed away," the young man continued. "He left me $150,000."

"So why are you sitting there so unhappy?"

"Well, this month so far, not a cent!"

Perhaps he had not read Horace's words about how to be happy:

Happy is the man and happy is he alone,
He who can call today his own.
He who is secure within can say,
'Tomorrow do thy worst,
for I have lived today.'

Today is all we have, really. Now is the best time to choose happiness.
 
-- Steve Goodier (Life Support)

It's a Choice

One man tells of driving a long and lonely road, the last 65 miles of it unpaved, in order to watch Hopi Indian ceremonial dances in the state of Arizona. After the dances, he returned to his car only to find that it had a flat tire. He put on the spare and drove to the only service station on the Hopi reservation.

“Do you fix flats?” he inquired of the attendant.

“Yes,” came the answer.

“How much do you charge?” he asked.

With a twinkle in his eye, the man replied, “What difference does it make?”

This is what has been called a “Hobson’s choice.” A Hobson’s choice is a situation that forces a person to accept whatever is offered or go without.

According to Barbara Berliner (The Book of Answers), the phrase was inspired by sixteenth-century entrepreneur Thomas Hobson, who hired out horses in strict rotation at Cambridge University. There was no choosing by the customer – it was strictly Hobson’s choice.

But most of the time we really do have a choice, and the choice we make does make a difference. We may not always believe it. We may feel as if we have no choice, but almost always there is a choice in the matter. And when we realize that most of what we do we do by choice, then we are taking control of our own lives.

Someone challenged me to try an experiment that completely changed my perspective. “For the next seven days,” he said, “eliminate the words ‘I have to’ from your vocabulary and substitute the words ‘I choose to.’ Don’t say, ‘I have to work late tonight.’ Instead, say, ‘I choose to work late.’ When you choose to do it, you take control of your life. Instead of saying, ‘I have to stay home,’ try ‘I choose to stay home.’ The way you spend your time is your choice. You set the priorities. You are responsible. You have control.”

In just seven days I was no longer saying “I have to” and I felt better about my decisions. I learned that there is very little in this life I actually HAVE to do. You and I decide to do certain things because we believe that it will be for the best. When we eliminate “I have to” from our vocabularies, we take control.

Try it for a week (after all, it’s your choice) and you see what happens. I think you’ll see it’s a change for the better.

-- Steve Goodier (Life Support)

Two Choices

Two choices - What will you do? You make the choice! Don't look for a punch line; there isn't one!

Read it anyway. My question to all of you is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child." Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?" Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and a few boys nodded approval, why not? So he took matters into his own hands and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."

Shay struggled over to the team's bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could haveeasily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have beenout and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team-mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base.

By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay" Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet were screaming, "Shay, run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the "grand slam" and won the game for his team.

"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "The boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world." Shay didn't make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy and coming home and seeing his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

-- Author Unknown