Real Beauty Lies Not in The Physical Appearance, But in The Heart

     “Can I see my baby?” the happy new mother asked. When the bundle was nestled in her arms and she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face, she gasped.

     The doctor turned quickly and looked out the tall hospital window. The baby had been born without ears. Time proved that the baby’s hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred.

     When he rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother’s arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreaks.

     He blurted out the tragedy. “A boy, a big boy… called me a freak.”

     He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for that. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music.

     “But, you might mingle with other young people,” his mother reproved him, but felt a kindness in her heart.

     The boy’s father had a session with the family physician. Could nothing be done?

     “I believe I could graft on a pair of outer ears, if they could be procured,” the doctor decided.

    Whereupon, the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man. Two years went by.

     Then his father said, “You are going to the hospital, son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need. But, it’s a secret who it is.”

     The operation was a brilliant success, and a new person emerged. His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college became a series of triumphs. Later, he married and entered the diplomatic service.

     “But, I must know!” He urged his father, “Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him.”

     “I do not believe you could,” said the father, “but, the agreement was that you are not to know… not yet.”

     The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come. It was one of the darkest days that ever pass through a son. He stood with his father over his mother’s casket. Slowly, tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to reveal that the mother had no outer ears.

     “Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut,” he whispered gently, “and nobody ever thought mother less beautiful, did they?”

     Real beauty lies not in the physical appearance, but in the heart. Real treasure lies not in what can be seen, but in what cannot be seen. Real love lies not in what is done and known, but in what is done and not known.

-Author Unknown

LOVE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS — NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE

     I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3), and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with. Her last project of the term was called “Smile. “

     The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reaction. I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say, hello, anyway… so, I thought, this would be a piece of cake, literally. Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald’s, one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special play time with our son.

     We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not move an inch… an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved. As I turned around I smelled a horrible “dirty body” smell… and there standing behind me were two poor men.

     As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was “smiling.” His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God’s light as he searched for acceptance. He said, “Good day” as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally deficient and the blue eyed gentle man was his salvation. I held my tears… as I stood there with them.

     The young lady at the counter asked them what they wanted. The man doing the ordering said, “Coffee is all Miss.” — because that was all they could afford. To sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something… hey, they just wanted to be warm. Then I really felt it… the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with his blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me… judging my every action.

     I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue eyed gentleman’s cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, “Thank you.” I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, “I did not do this alone for you… God is here working through me to give you hope.”

      I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, “That is why God gave you to me honey… to give me hope.” We held hands for moment and at that time we knew that only because of the Grace of God that we had been given, that we were able to give. We are not church goers but we are believers. That day showed me the pure Light of God’s sweet love.

     I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand. I turned in “my project” and the instructor read it… then she looked up at me and said, “may I share this?” I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read, and that is when I knew that we, as human beings and being part of God, share the need to help people and be helped.

     In my own way I had touched the people at McDonald’s, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student. I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn… UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE. Much love and compassion is sent to each and every person who may read this. Learn how to LOVE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS — NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE. If this true story has touched you in any way, please share it with a friend, so we all can better practice the love that Jesus Christ taught us.

-Author Unknown

A Few Drops of Water!

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. He would 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 the actions of one little boy saved another.

I don't know if anyone will read this...but I had to send it.... To honor the memory of my beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too soon.... but not before showing me the true face of God, in a little sunburned body.

- Unknown Author

photo credit: Steve took it via photopin cc

The Empty Egg

Jeremy Forrester was born with a twisted body and a slow mind. At the age of 12 he was still in second grade, seemingly unable to learn. His teacher, Doris Miller, often became exasperated with him. He would squirm in his seat, drool, and make grunting noises. At other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy just irritated his teacher.

One day she called his parents and asked them to come in for a consultation. As the Forresters entered the empty classroom, Doris said to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a special school. It isn't fair to him to be with younger children who don't have learning problems. Why, there is a five year gap between his age and that of the other students."

Mrs. Forrester cried softly into a tissue, while her husband spoke. "Miss Miller," he said, "there is no school of that kind nearby. It would be a terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to take him out of this school. We know he really likes it here."

Teacher Doris sat for a long time after they had left, staring at the snow outside the window. Its coldness seemed to seep into her soul. She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters. After all, their only child had a terminal illness. But it wasn't fair to keep him in her class. She had 18 other youngsters to teach, and Jeremy was a distraction. Furthermore, he would never learn to read and write. Why waste any more time trying?

As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. Here I am complaining when my problems are nothing compared to that poor family, she thought. Lord, please help me to be more patient with Jeremy. From that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy's noises and his blank stares. Then one day, he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him.

"I love you, Miss Miller," he exclaimed, loud enough for the whole class to hear. The other students snickered, and Doris' face burned red. She stammered, "Wh-why that's very nice, Jeremy. N-now please take your seat."

Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg. "Now," she said to them, "I want you to take this home and bring it back tomorrow with something inside that shows new life. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Miller," the children responded enthusiastically-all except for Jeremy. He listened intently. His eyes never left her face. He did not even make his usual noises. Had he understood what she had said about Jesus' death and resurrection? Did he understand the assignment? Perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them.

That evening, Doris' kitchen sink stopped up. She called the landlord and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she still had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse, and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy's parents. The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller's desk. After they completed their math lesson, it was time to open the eggs. In the first egg, Doris found a flower. "Oh yes, a flower is certainly a sign of new life," she said. "When plants peek through the ground, we know that spring is here." A small girl in the first row waved her arm. "That's my egg, Miss Miller," she called out.

The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up. "We all know that a caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly. Yes, that's new life, too." Little Judy smiled proudly and said, "Miss Miller, that one is mine." Next, Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that moss, too, showed life. Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom, "My daddy helped me," he beamed.

Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The egg was empty. Surely it must be Jeremy's she thought, and of course, he did not understand her instructions. If only she had not forgotten to phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and reached for another.

Suddenly, Jeremy spoke up. "Miss Miller, aren't you going to talk about my egg?" Flustered, Doris replied, "But Jeremy, your egg is empty." He looked into her eyes and said softly, "Yes, but Jesus' tomb was empty, too."

Time stopped. When she could speak again, Doris asked him, "Do you know why the tomb was empty?" "Oh, yes," Jeremy said, "Jesus was killed and put in there. Then His Father raised Him up."

The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the schoolyard, Doris cried. The cold inside her melted completely away.

Three months later, Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the mortuary were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket....... all of them empty.

-Unknown Author

photo credit: Darny via photopin cc

Leaders and Influencers: Are You Willing to Go to the Root?

By Susan S Freeman

Early April brings springtime and the season when new life emerges around us. Is it also unfolding within us? Are we seeing "below the dirt?" "Are we getting to the root?"

I read a book last weekend that changed the way I was looking at a problem. The more I reflected about the book's offering to me, the more I appreciated the mindset shift I experienced. My approach to a long-standing issue had changed radically in a few hours.

The familiar quote "Can't see the forest for the trees" comes to mind.

It is used when someone is too involved in the details of a problem to look at a situation as a whole. I'll take it one step farther.

It's not just about being too involved in the details of a problem; it's about being too involved in our own mindsets to see that they are mindsets.

Mindsets can be changed.

Why are so many people engaged in systems that aren't effective and often are harmful? Why is it that so often we get buried in the details (the trees) and can't see that the solution to our problem may require our pulling back to see the entire forest?

We have to get out of the trees and above the forest before we can go to the source; the root.

I see struggles we all have in getting to the root of a problem. As a coach, I am trained to dig deeply, through powerful questions, to explore what is below the surface. What I often discover for myself and for clients, is that the problems we all have are rarely taken to their root level. People get "stuck" and repeat patterns that are harmful to them because they don't go to the root. Even for people who are trained to do it for others, it can be impossible to do for oneself.

Failure to go to the root of a problem challenges many levels of our society. The prevailing mindset is "I am too busy to stop and think about how I might get to the root, so I will just keep doing what I have always done."

Getting to the root doesn't necessarily take longer. It requires the ability to slow down and stop engaging in the habits that keep us safe, yet stuck.

Here are some tools for leaders and influencers to use to get to the root:

1) Stop periodically and quiet your mind

2) Breathe deeply from your belly with your eyes closed

3) In this state connect to your care and ask what matters most

4) What question needs an answer?

5) Pay attention to any signs, words, or ideas that come to you

6) Have a "root" explorer in your world; someone who asks the tough and challenging questions

My wish is for you to see the trees and the forest, while remembering that it all begins at the root. Look "below" the symptom. Get curious. Keep probing.

To your "up-rooting!"


Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Susan_S_Freeman
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Leaders Who Label May Harm Their Effectiveness

 

 By Susan S Freeman


Yesterday I heard something in a yoga class that shouted out to me as a valuable leadership lesson:

The idea of putting a label on an experience.

Think about how many times a day you get caught up in labeling. We endlessly label our experiences (and sometimes those of others), we label our feelings, moods and thoughts as positive/negative, good/bad, strong/weak, etc. Our brains benefit from our ability to categorize and label; it is a way of accessing the huge amounts of data stored there. A label can help the brain find a "similar" file drawer quickly and efficiently. Processing data would be difficult, if not impossible, without our highly developed capacity to label.

The shadow side of labeling

The process of affixing a label for our own experiences takes an already active (often reactive) mind and occupies it fully. By giving an experience a label from a similar past experience or attempting to classify it in order to help predict and control a future outcome, we are harmed. Our tendency to label beyond the need for analysis can hinder leadership because it keeps us everywhere but in the here and now. We miss being present to "what already is."
Learning to pay close and mindful attention to sensation without the need to label or categorize is important for leaders.

All that is required of you is to simply be in the experience rather than outside of it.

Why does "not" labeling matter?

It matters because when you are aware of what is happening in you're here and now, be it any problem or challenge, a person or a situation you will pay close attention to its essence. The essence of your experience defies labeling. The essence must be experienced. There is no other way. You must be in it, and not outside of it.

Your heightened awareness can be experienced in your body. Because it will speak to you in a language that may be unfamiliar at first, here is a process to get started:

1) Stop and be still

2) Breathe deeply from your abdomen for 3-5 breaths; lengthen the inhalation and the exhalation with each new breath

3) Attend to the pure sensations going on in your body; learn its "language"

4) If the tendency to classify or categorize comes up, simply continue to breathe in a relaxed manner. Watch the tendency to label drift, as with a cloud moving across the sky

5) Be curious; open yourself to the potential that may have escaped if you had tried to label first!

The Proper Use of Labels:

Using labels can paralyze you from being present because the act of labeling attaches feelings and emotions that may not be responsive to the moment at hand.

Instead, save labels for organizing, collecting, and grouping data. Labels are useful when used for analysis; less so when they cause leadership paralysis!

I invite you to share your story on how leading without labels works for you. Join the conversation so we can comment and learn.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Susan_S_Freeman
http://EzineArticles.com/?Leaders-Who-Label-May-Harm-Their-Effectiveness&id=7734738
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