Getting Police to Respond Quickly When You're Old

George Phillips of Meridian, Mississippi was going up to bed when his wife told him that he'd left the light on in the garden shed, which she could see from the bedroom window.

George opened the back door to go turn off the light but saw that there were people in the shed stealing things.

He phoned the police, who asked, 'Is someone in your house?' and he said, 'no'. Then they said that all patrols were busy, and that he should simply lock his door and an officer would be along when available. George said, 'Okay,' hung up, counted to 30, and phoned the police again.

'Hello, I just called you a few seconds ago because there were people stealing things from my shed. Well, you don't have to worry about them now because I've just shot them.' Then he hung up.

Within five minutes three police cars, an Armed Response Unit, and an ambulance showed up at the Phillips' residence and caught the burglars red-handed.

One of the Policemen said to George: 'I thought you said that you'd shot them!'
George said, 'I thought you said there was nobody available!'

(True Story) I LOVE IT - The older you get, the wiser you get! So...don't mess with old people!!

Cherokee Seasons

CHEROKEE SEASONS

The following pictures are of the same place but taken in different seasons..!

Lessons on Life

There was an Indian Chief who had four sons. He wanted his sons to learn not to judge things too quickly. So he sent them each on a quest.., in turn..,
to go and look at a pear tree that was a great distance away.

The first son went in the Winter, the second in the Spring, the third in Summer,
and the youngest son in the Fall.

When they had all gone and come back, he called them together to describe what they had seen.

The first son said that the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted.

The second son said 'no' it was covered with green buds and full of promise.

The third son disagreed; he said it was laden with blossoms that smelled so
sweet and looked so beautiful. It was the most graceful thing he had ever seen.

The last son disagreed with all of them; he said it was ripe and drooping with fruit, full of life and fulfillment.

The man then explained to his sons that they were all right, because they had
each seen but only one season in the tree's life.


He told them that you cannot judge a tree, or a person, by only one season, and that the essence of who they are and the pleasure, joy, and love that come from
that life can only be measured at the end, when all the seasons are up.


If you give up when it's Winter, you will miss the promise of your Spring,
the beauty of your Summer, the fulfillment of your Fall.


Moral:

Don't let the pain of one season destroy the joy of all the rest.

Don't judge life by one difficult season.

Persevere through the difficult patches and better times are sure to come.


Live Simply.

Love Generously.

Care Deeply.

Speak Kindly.

Leave the Rest to God.

Happiness keeps You Sweet,

Trials keep You Strong,

Sorrows keep You Human,

Failures keep You Humble,

Success keeps You Glowing,

But God keeps You Going!

Risking - The Walls of Love

This is one of the most beautiful, inspiring pieces of literature I've ever read. It opens eyes and hearts up to a more clearer way of looking at love and life.

The Walls Of Love

Think about this: If I don't have wisdom, I can only teach you my ignorance. If I don't have freedom, I could only put you in a cage. It takes two to see one. You want to know who you are. Look at the eyes of the people around you who love you. They are the only people who will tell you that you've got dirt on your nose. The person who loves you is going to say, "Hey, honey, there's dirt on your nose." So if we get into an argument, if we should disagree, say, "To hell with you! I'm not going to work anything out with you. Who wants the trouble? Why solve anything? It's easier to find another."

When things become a little difficult or unpleasant, you can't stand it anymore, so you are going to leave. "Feel free, if a relationship becomes dull and sluggish. Just move out and don't feel guilty because a lasting relationship between two people is no longer possible." To strive for intimacy is a risk and may bring pain. But the only way you are ever going to see yourself and grow is in an intimate relationship. When I love you and you love me, we're like each other's mirror; we see infinity. If I want to know about me, I won't find it by living alone. I'm going to find it by your responses to me. To expose feelings is to risk showing your true self. "What else do I have to show?" To place your ideas and your dreams before a crowd, is to risk being called naive." Oh, I'm called worse things than that." To love is to risk not being loved in return. "To live is to risk dying." I'm not ready for that. Don't you dare shed one tear if you hear that I blew up in the air or dropped dead. I did it with enthusiasm. "To hope is to risk despair and to try is to risk failure." But risks must be taken, because the greatest risk in life is to risk nothing.

The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, feels nothing and becomes nothing. He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he simply cannot learn and change and feel and grow and love and live. "To laugh is to risk appearing the fool." Well, so what? Fools have a lot of fun. "To weep is to risk being called sentimental." Of course I'm sentimental; I love it to tears! Tears can help to reach out to another and risk involvement. "Who's risking involvement?" I want to be involved. I see people who are always saying, "I'm a lover. I really believe in love. I act the part", and than they shout at the waitress, "Where's the water?" I will believe your love when you show it in action. Each day I promise myself not to try to solve all of my life's problems at once. Nor shall I expect you to do so. Take it easy - you can't be the perfect lover tomorrow, but maybe next week...

Starting each day, I shall try to learn something new about me an about you and about the world we live in, so that I may continue to experience all things as if they have been newly born. You're never the same person. After tonight you're going to be different. Even if it only means a little bit fatter. Starting each day, I shall remind myself to really listen to you and to try to hear your points of view - remembering that we're both growing and changing in a myriad of ways. Starting each day, I shall remind myself I am a human being and not demand perfection from you until I am perfect. Starting each day, I shall strive to be aware of the beautiful things in our world. Starting each day, I remind myself to reach out and touch you gently with my fingers, because I don't want to miss feeling you. Starting each day, I shall dedicate myself, again; to the process of being a lover . . . and than see what happens. You know that I'm really convinced that if you were to define love, the only word big enough to engulf it would be life. Love is life in all its aspects. And if you miss love, you miss living. Please don't.

I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be the creator of the person that is in me if you choose to because you alone, can see my mask . . . you alone, can release me from my shadow world of panic and uncertainty and loneliness. So please don't pass me by. I know it will not be easy for you; a conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls, and the nearer you approach me, the blinder I may strike back. You see, I am fighting against the very thing I need most. But I am told that love is stronger than walls - and in this lies my only hope. So beat down those walls with your firm and gentle hands, for the child in me is very sensitive and can't grow behind walls. So don't give up . . . I need you.

Car Keys With Alarms Can Save Lives!

I received this via e-mail from a good friend of mine earlier and thought it was worth posting for everyone to read. It makes sense and could save many in critical situations.

Car Keys With Alarms Can Save Lives!

Put your car keys beside your bed at night. If you hear a noise outside your home or someone trying to get in your house, just press the panic button for your car. The alarm will be set off, and the horn will continue to sound until either you turn it off or the car battery dies.

This tip came from a neighborhood watch coordinator. Next time you come home for the night and you start to put your keys away, think of this: It's a security alarm system that you probably already have and requires no installation. Test it.

It will go off from most everywhere inside your house and will keep honking until your battery runs down or until you reset it with the button on the key fob chain. It works if you park in your driveway or garage

If your car alarm goes off when someone is trying to break in your house, odds are the burglar or rapist won't stick around... after a few seconds all the neighbors will be looking out their windows to see who is out there and sure enough the criminal won't want that.

And remember to carry your keys while walking to your car in a parking lot. The alarm can work the same way there..... This is something that
should really be shared with everyone. Maybe it could save a life or a sexual abuse crime.

P.S. I am sending this to everyone I know because I think it is fantastic. Would also be useful for any emergency, such as a heart attack, where you can't reach a phone.

My Mom has suggested to my Dad that he carry his car keys with him in case he falls outside and she doesn't hear him. He can activate the car alarm and then she'll know there's a problem.

Dog Angel

by Catherine Moore

'Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!' My father yelled at me.

'Can't you do anything right?'
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

'I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.' My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, 'I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.' I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. 'Can you tell me about him?' The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.

'He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.' He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. 'You mean you're going to kill him?'

'Ma'am,' he said gently, 'that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog.'

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. 'I'll take him,' I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

'Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!' I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. 'If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it' Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

'You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!' Dad ignored me. 'Did you hear me, Dad?' I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.'

'I've often thanked God for sending that angel,' he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article...

Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.


Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard,
love truly and forgive quickly.
Live While You Are Alive.
Tell the people you love that you love them, at every
opportunity.
Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a
second time.

Woman and a Fork

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things 'in order,' she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in

Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

'There's one more thing,' she said excitedly.

'What's that?' came the Pastor's reply.

'This is very important,' the young woman continued. 'I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.'

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

That surprises you, doesn't it?' the young woman asked.

'Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request,' said the Pastor.

The young woman explained. 'My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!'

So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder ' What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Keep your fork...the best is yet to come.'

Th e Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, 'What's with the fork?' And over and over he smiled.

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either

He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us.

Show your friends how much you care Remember to always be there for them, even when you need them more. For you never know when it may be their time to 'Keep your fork.'

Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share . Being friends with someone is not an opportunity but a sweet responsibility.

Hilarious Nutty Squirrel

This is quite comical I must say... check it out! Hilarious squirrely squirrel!

Incredibly Cool Wood Sculptures

These are the most amazing wood sculptures I've ever seen. Looks like this guy who made them has a ton of creativity and a whole lot of time on his hands.

Amazing LEGO Church

This is amazing! Someone certainly is talented and patient to create such a masterpiece.

A few quick facts:

How long to build it? It took about a 1, 1/2 yrs of planning, building, and photographing.

How many pieces of LEGO to build it? More than 75,000.

How big is it? About 7 feet by 5 1/2 feet by 30 inches (2.2 m x 1.7 m x .76 m)

How many LEGO people does it seat? 1,372.

How many windows? 3,976.





Have a blessed and wonderful day, today and everyday!
Please remember to dress for any occasion.......
wear a happy smile on your face. Others will smile with you.?

Good Pointers

Life could be so much more pleasant if only we all could follow advice such as below.

ONE. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.

TWO. Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.

THREE. Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have or sleep all you want.

FOUR. When you say, 'I love you,' mean it.

FIVE. When you say, 'I'm sorry ,' look the person in the eye.

SIX.. Be engaged at least six months before you get married.

SEVEN. Believe in love at first sight.

EIGHT. Never laugh at anyone's dream. People who don't have dreams don't have much.

NINE. Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt but it's the only way to live life completely.

TEN. In disagreements, fight fairly. No name calling.

ELEVEN. Don't judge people by their relatives.

TWELVE. Talk slowly but think quickly.

THIRTEEN. When someone asks you a question you don't want to answer, smile and ask, 'Why do you want to know?'

FOURTEEN. Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.

FIFTEEN. Say 'God bless you' when you hear someone sneeze.

SIXTEEN. When you lose, don't lose the lesson .

SEVENTEEN. Remember the three R's: Respect for self; Respect for others; and Responsibility for all your actions.

EIGHTEEN. Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.

NINETEEN. When you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.

TWENTY. Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.

TWENTY-ONE. Spend some time alone.

Touched By Cancer

A Candle Loses Nothing by Lighting Another Candle.

Please Keep This Candle Going!

It would be great if we all could keep this circulating. Even if it's to just one more person; in memory of anyone you know that has been touched by cancer. 

Mother Of The Year, Incredible True Story

Here's an amazing "AWE" story... absolutely shocking in the most spectacular sort of way! Definitely worth sharing!

MOTHER OF THE YEAR * You'll Love it !*



In a zoo in California , a mother tiger gave birth to a rare set of triplet tiger cubs. Unfortunately,
due to complications in the pregnancy, the cubs were born prematurely and due to their tiny
size, they died shortly after birth.

The mother tiger after recovering from the delivery, suddenly started to decline in health,
although physically she was fine. The veterinarians felt that the loss of her litter had caused
the tigress to fall into! a depression. The doctors decided that if the tigress could surrogate
another mother's cubs, perhaps she would improve.

After checking with many other zoos across the country, the depressing news was that there
were no tiger cubs of the right age to introduce to the mourning mother. The veterinarians
decided to try something that had never been tried in a zoo environment. Sometimes a mother
of one species will take on the care of a different species. The only orphans' that could be
found quickly, were a litter of weanling pigs. The zoo keepers and vets wrapped the piglets in
tiger skin and placed the babies around the mother tiger. Would they become cubs or pork chops?
Take a look...you won't believe your eyes !!







Now, after reading this, tell me, why can't the rest of the world get along??