<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951</id><updated>2026-06-14T10:38:50.571-07:00</updated><category term="love story"/><category term="love stories"/><category term="love"/><category term="real love"/><category term="short love stories"/><category term="love is blind"/><category term="love mother love"/><category term="short stories"/><category term="mother.mom i love u"/><category term="secret"/><category term="smssher"/><category term="blind girl"/><category term="god answer why woman cry?"/><category term="maa"/><category term="memory"/><category term="mom"/><category term="short story"/><category term="sms"/><category term="time"/><category term="tips"/><category term="why woman cry"/><title type='text'>Love Stories Sms</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-6374393479940552948</id><published>2012-03-10T20:28:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2012-03-10T20:31:02.611-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love is blind"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love mother love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short love stories"/><title type='text'>Situations change with time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMoaEN64QIVlz7ieKrHTGilqULOoUBmwoCxoobgSdE5r_791IKHII8rIR_q3QNUqA-aXS3ee4b1_SQPPt4QBwbHN9rVAOXS0JXmkMNxxUzfObJk4HW72pFMdBU7PrnJ7Uci0Z-0bJIts/s1600/174887_185972168108233_678895488_n.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 84px; height: 200px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMoaEN64QIVlz7ieKrHTGilqULOoUBmwoCxoobgSdE5r_791IKHII8rIR_q3QNUqA-aXS3ee4b1_SQPPt4QBwbHN9rVAOXS0JXmkMNxxUzfObJk4HW72pFMdBU7PrnJ7Uci0Z-0bJIts/s200/174887_185972168108233_678895488_n.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718492093905495554&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;A poor boy loved a rich girl.&lt;br /&gt;One day the boy proposed her.&lt;br /&gt;Then the girl said, &quot;listen! your&lt;br /&gt;monthly salary is my daily hand&lt;br /&gt;expenses. Should I be involved&lt;br /&gt;with you? How could you thought&lt;br /&gt;that? I will never love you. So,&lt;br /&gt;forget me &#39;n get engaged with&lt;br /&gt;someone else of your level.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;But somehow the boy could not&lt;br /&gt;forget her so easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day they became face to face&lt;br /&gt;in a shopping center. The lady&lt;br /&gt;said, &quot;Hey! you! How are you?&lt;br /&gt;Now I&#39;m married. Do you know&lt;br /&gt;how much is my husband&#39;s&lt;br /&gt;salary? Rs. 2 lac per month! Can&lt;br /&gt;you imagine? &#39;n he is also very&lt;br /&gt;smart.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy&#39;s eyes got wet with tear&lt;br /&gt;by hearing those words.&lt;br /&gt;After few minutes her husband&lt;br /&gt;came before the lady could say&lt;br /&gt;something to the guy, her&lt;br /&gt;husband started to say by seeing&lt;br /&gt;the guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Sir! You here? Meet my wife.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Then he said to her wife, &quot;I&#39;m&lt;br /&gt;going to assist a project of sir,&lt;br /&gt;which is of Rs. 200 crore. &#39;n do u&lt;br /&gt;know a fact? Sir loved a girl but he&lt;br /&gt;didn&#39;t get her. That&#39;s why still he&lt;br /&gt;is unmarried. How much lucky the&lt;br /&gt;girl was. Isn&#39;t it? Now a days who&lt;br /&gt;can love like that way?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral: Life is not so short. So,&lt;br /&gt;don&#39;t be so proud of yourself and&lt;br /&gt;damn others. ..&lt;br /&gt;Situations change with time. Every&lt;br /&gt;one should respect other&#39;s love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHARE IT.. IF YOU LIKE IT.. !!&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6374393479940552948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/6374393479940552948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/6374393479940552948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/6374393479940552948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2012/03/situations-change-with-time.html' title='Situations change with time'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMoaEN64QIVlz7ieKrHTGilqULOoUBmwoCxoobgSdE5r_791IKHII8rIR_q3QNUqA-aXS3ee4b1_SQPPt4QBwbHN9rVAOXS0JXmkMNxxUzfObJk4HW72pFMdBU7PrnJ7Uci0Z-0bJIts/s72-c/174887_185972168108233_678895488_n.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-971542856472820329</id><published>2012-02-18T20:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-18T20:55:04.666-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short love stories"/><title type='text'>Anger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj3fle9LyTHpcpqakeXJKaC_3xld5QEpZzJJ9uJ8EPhRIOu0TjjquP_DGLpSdbo79PLoz_3uohVlKr7b_kXoXjrruCIVBeF3MtvYXcT5O6on9pirtd0Vdeku5aZHFqGQHf1Cq_MVcBr4/s1600/Randy-winging-glasses-590.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj3fle9LyTHpcpqakeXJKaC_3xld5QEpZzJJ9uJ8EPhRIOu0TjjquP_DGLpSdbo79PLoz_3uohVlKr7b_kXoXjrruCIVBeF3MtvYXcT5O6on9pirtd0Vdeku5aZHFqGQHf1Cq_MVcBr4/s200/Randy-winging-glasses-590.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710705394018504258&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day, the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the day came when the boy didn&#39;t lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, &quot;You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won&#39;t matter how many times you say I&#39;m sorry the wound is still there. A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one.&quot;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/971542856472820329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/971542856472820329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/971542856472820329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/971542856472820329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2012/02/anger.html' title='Anger'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj3fle9LyTHpcpqakeXJKaC_3xld5QEpZzJJ9uJ8EPhRIOu0TjjquP_DGLpSdbo79PLoz_3uohVlKr7b_kXoXjrruCIVBeF3MtvYXcT5O6on9pirtd0Vdeku5aZHFqGQHf1Cq_MVcBr4/s72-c/Randy-winging-glasses-590.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-1221442621926714680</id><published>2011-12-15T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T19:48:54.594-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short story"/><title type='text'>the little boy</title><content type='html'>Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?”&lt;br /&gt;The surgeon said, “I’m sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn’t make it.”&lt;br /&gt;Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer? Doesn’t God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?”&lt;br /&gt;The surgeon asked, “Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he’s transported to the university.”&lt;br /&gt;Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good-bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.&lt;br /&gt;“Would you like a lock of his hair?” the nurse asked.&lt;br /&gt;Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lockof the boy’s hair, put it in a plastic bagand handed it to Sally. The mother said, “It was Jimmy’s idea to donate his body to the university for study. Hesaid it might help somebody else. “I said no at first, but Jimmy said, ‘Mom,I won’t be using it after I die. Maybe itwill help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.” She went on, “My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.”&lt;br /&gt;Sally walked out of Children’s mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy’s belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy’s belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son’s room. She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:&lt;br /&gt;“Dear Mom,&lt;br /&gt;I know you’re going to miss me; but don’t think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just ’cause I’m not around to say I LOVE YOU. I will always love you, Mom, even more witheach day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won’t be so lonely, that’s okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn’t like the same things us boys do. You’ll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don’t be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels areso cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn’t look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God’s knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That’s when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good-bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn’t allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write youthis letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him ‘Where was He when I needed him?’ “God said Hewas in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross.He was right there, as He always is with all His children.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I’ve written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn’t that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names inthe Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit atthe table with Jesus for supper. I’m, sure the food will be great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don’t hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I’m glad because I couldn’t stand that pain anymore and God couldn’t stand to see me hurt so much, either. That’swhen He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?&lt;br /&gt;Signed with Love from: God, Jesus &amp; Me.”</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1221442621926714680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/1221442621926714680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/1221442621926714680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/1221442621926714680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2011/12/little-boy.html' title='the little boy'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-3492310488504547433</id><published>2011-12-15T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T19:39:02.421-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short stories"/><title type='text'>i still love you</title><content type='html'>One day, a young guy and a young girl fell in love.&lt;br /&gt;But the guy came from a poor family. The girl’s parents weren’t too happy.&lt;br /&gt;So the young man decided not only to court the girl but to court her parents as well. In time, the parents saw that he was a good man and was worthy oftheir daughter’s hand.&lt;br /&gt;But there was another problem: The man was a soldier. Soon, war broke out and he was being sent overseas for a year. The week before he left, the man knelt on his knee and asked his lady love, “Will you marry me?” She wiped a tear, said yes, and they were engaged. They agreed that whenhe got back in one year, they would get married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But tragedy struck. A few days after he left, the girl had a major vehicular accident. It was a head-on collision.&lt;br /&gt;When she woke up in the hospital, she saw her father and mother crying. Immediately, she knew there was something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;She later found out that she suffered brain injury. The part of her brain that controlled her face muscles was damaged. Her once lovely face was now disfigured. She cried as she saw herself in the mirror. “Yesterday, I wasbeautiful. Today, I’m a monster.” Her body was also covered with so many ugly wounds.&lt;br /&gt;Right there and then, she decided to release her fiancé from their promise. She knew he wouldn’t want her anymore. She would forget about him and never see him again.&lt;br /&gt;For one year, the soldier wrote many letters—but she wouldn’t answer. He phoned her many times but she wouldn’t return her calls.&lt;br /&gt;But after one year, the mother walked into her room and announced, “He’s back from the war.”&lt;br /&gt;The girl shouted, “No! Please don’t tell him about me. Don’t tell him I’m here!”&lt;br /&gt;The mother said, “He’s getting married,” and handed her a wedding invitation.&lt;br /&gt;The girl’s heart sank. She knew she still loved him—but she had to forget him now.&lt;br /&gt;With great sadness, she opened the wedding invitation.&lt;br /&gt;And then she saw her name on it!&lt;br /&gt;Confused, she asked, “What is this?”&lt;br /&gt;That was when the young man entered her room with a bouquet of flowers. He knelt beside her and asked, “Will you marry me?”&lt;br /&gt;The girl covered her face with her hands and said, “I’m ugly!”&lt;br /&gt;The man said, “Without your permission, your mother sent me your photos. When I saw your photos, I realized that nothing has changed. You’re still the person I fell in love. You’re still as beautiful as ever. Because I love you!”</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3492310488504547433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/3492310488504547433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/3492310488504547433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/3492310488504547433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-still-love-you.html' title='i still love you'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-3564563619231903175</id><published>2011-07-12T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T09:25:18.930-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love is blind"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love mother love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short love stories"/><title type='text'>My love is much more worth than your wealth.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kNH3VjCaEBH3cdcQHyOKR9DtZkbzOgZzOS71e4YdgNXTbtKBerqwj-iwaw2AdDLMItaj3BkfzWpU0VPJsknu3dJRg0jAlef12vIRo6IcoR-Ha2I09q12d2XblSQyBaPQqi-4-LXuLF0/s1600/love-couple-in-the-night-1.jpeg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kNH3VjCaEBH3cdcQHyOKR9DtZkbzOgZzOS71e4YdgNXTbtKBerqwj-iwaw2AdDLMItaj3BkfzWpU0VPJsknu3dJRg0jAlef12vIRo6IcoR-Ha2I09q12d2XblSQyBaPQqi-4-LXuLF0/s200/love-couple-in-the-night-1.jpeg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628502317822091714&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;A poor boy loves a rich girl. Rich girl is full of proud of her wealth. She used to live life lavishly with her rich friends &amp; spend her money by throwing party and enjoying with them..One day poor boy proposed the girl .He said &quot;I love you my angel..I will love you more than my life and anyone can ..Rich girl replied in anger &quot;how dare you to proposed me ,first see yourself where you stand..Don&#39;t go beyond your limits&quot;. Poor Boy replied silently..Love gives me dare to proposed you..And My love is much more worth than your wealth.. Rich girl laughed loudly..on him..The poor boy went after saying this &quot;My love is true and I will see you in next time cycle..You will be mine in that time cycle.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;One day Girl&#39;s father died..The Girls family suffered huge loss..She went to her friends for help..but her rich friends turned down..Now she realizes she wasted her time with fake friends..she don&#39;t have any real friends in life..she fall ill..Now she used to live on road side..When Poor boy came to know about that He came and take her to his home and cared her..She became fine..The poor boy said,I still like to love your pretty smile..The Girl replied Now i came to know ..your love is really much more woth than my wealth..My rich friends can&#39;t help me...they are really poor..But  you are rich enough to provide me care and shelter..Now i want to spent my rest of life in your love..And I know the fact that No one can love me more than you ever in my life..I don&#39;t wanna lose this opportunity..I love you my rich boy..&lt;br /&gt;The boy smiled..You are mine in this time cycle..yes i will take care of you rest of my life..&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3564563619231903175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/3564563619231903175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/3564563619231903175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/3564563619231903175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-love-is-much-more-worth-than-your.html' title='My love is much more worth than your wealth.'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kNH3VjCaEBH3cdcQHyOKR9DtZkbzOgZzOS71e4YdgNXTbtKBerqwj-iwaw2AdDLMItaj3BkfzWpU0VPJsknu3dJRg0jAlef12vIRo6IcoR-Ha2I09q12d2XblSQyBaPQqi-4-LXuLF0/s72-c/love-couple-in-the-night-1.jpeg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-2445025371911692581</id><published>2011-04-08T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T09:41:34.734-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love is blind"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love mother love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mother.mom i love u"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short love stories"/><title type='text'>Love you Most</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAL6aCTeYzgq7V7Qao_LO9H2WPoyEY-Mzeximv9NTI-Yet0ensmpHeZtzRaLjX83Zk9Q56Lq3Y_X6tGdhDVAIGKo_glvMSM-graQH1v_wLZOGX1i4z9NVZclRnxzU3d-EEBm4R5KTnLE/s1600/1218044783_2956_full.png&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 162px; height: 200px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAL6aCTeYzgq7V7Qao_LO9H2WPoyEY-Mzeximv9NTI-Yet0ensmpHeZtzRaLjX83Zk9Q56Lq3Y_X6tGdhDVAIGKo_glvMSM-graQH1v_wLZOGX1i4z9NVZclRnxzU3d-EEBm4R5KTnLE/s200/1218044783_2956_full.png&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593253346171344370&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two butterflies love each other....one day they&lt;br /&gt;where playing hide and seek at night. Girl butterfly&lt;br /&gt;says &quot; A small game between us&quot;. she says &quot;who&lt;br /&gt;sits on this flower earlier in the morning tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;that one loves the other most&quot;. then the boy&lt;br /&gt;...butterfly says &#39;OK&#39;. next morning she was waiting from 4&#39;o&lt;br /&gt;clock.the flower opened... she found the boy&lt;br /&gt;butterfly dead inside it, because he stayed there&lt;br /&gt;the previous nite itself.&lt;br /&gt;thats what true love.&lt;br /&gt;LOVE IS LIFE, dont miss it......</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2445025371911692581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/2445025371911692581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/2445025371911692581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/2445025371911692581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2011/04/love-you-most.html' title='Love you Most'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAL6aCTeYzgq7V7Qao_LO9H2WPoyEY-Mzeximv9NTI-Yet0ensmpHeZtzRaLjX83Zk9Q56Lq3Y_X6tGdhDVAIGKo_glvMSM-graQH1v_wLZOGX1i4z9NVZclRnxzU3d-EEBm4R5KTnLE/s72-c/1218044783_2956_full.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-3875381447225268553</id><published>2011-03-01T01:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T01:04:24.040-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love is blind"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love mother love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mother.mom i love u"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="secret"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sms"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="smssher"/><title type='text'>《≈◆SACRED LOVE◆≈》</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdyGfF83lcjhDAheffDpJryzl9YctO4jDkOWlC0RlNdk6Zjq5JdkitUDnFbD9c5xDj0ar1rWrI56R70N4l25jYZpWifFrldb3yHoGgbYTb2Zys0fOKvHiCzUwB86JIcuOA34XoBc1LgNg/s1600/33453_158299304189494_100000282767786_421138_2441529_n.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 187px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdyGfF83lcjhDAheffDpJryzl9YctO4jDkOWlC0RlNdk6Zjq5JdkitUDnFbD9c5xDj0ar1rWrI56R70N4l25jYZpWifFrldb3yHoGgbYTb2Zys0fOKvHiCzUwB86JIcuOA34XoBc1LgNg/s200/33453_158299304189494_100000282767786_421138_2441529_n.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579034594408330354&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS A DANCER NAMED ANGELA  WHO IS VERY FAMOUS IN CITY. SHE DANCE LIKE AN ANGEL  IN HEAVEN. EVERY RICH SPENT HIS MONEY ON HIM. ANGELA IS BEAUTIFUL LIKE AN ANGEL AND THERE WAS NOBODY TO COMAPRE WITH HER.SHE IS VERY RICH AND EARNED GOOD NAME IN BAD STREETSEVERY RICH PEOPLE USED TO SPENT A LOT OF MONEY TO SPENT SOMETIME WITH ANGELA.&lt;br /&gt;ONE DAY ANGELA SAW A YOUNG MAN WEARING CLOTHES LIKE A SAINT.HIS NAME WAS AMEET. ANGELA PROPSED TO AMEET AND SAID,&quot;HEY YOUNG MAN I LOST MY MIND AND HEART ON YOU,MY BODY IS SHIVERING FROM INSIDE. I AM BECOMING NYMPHOMANIAC AND I WANT TO SPENT SOME SENSUAL MOMENTS WITH YOU AT ANY COST.I LOVE YOU.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;AMEET SMILED N REPLIED ANGELA YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL LIKE HEAVEN..NO DOUBT...I ALSO LOST MY HEART ON YOU..ITS A FACT...BUT MY LOVE IS SACRED NOT OF LUST...I CAN SPENT SOMETIME WITH YOU BUT ITS A THING OF JOY FOR SOME MOMENTS AND MY SACRED SOUL WILL BE POLLUTED DUE TO THIS SIN.&lt;br /&gt;YES WE WILL MEET IN THAT WAY AS WE NEVER APART BUT ITS NOT THE RIGHT TIME...YOU HAVE TO WAIT RIGHT TIME I WILL COME SURE...ITS MY PROMISE...&lt;br /&gt;ANGELA GOT ANGRY AND WALKED AWAY..BY SAYING YOU HAVE LOST YOUR LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY WHICH WAS FREE OF COST JUST FOR YOU,,,HUH....&lt;br /&gt;AMEET SMILED SILENTLY...&lt;br /&gt;TIME FLEW LIKE A BIRD....AND SITUATIONS ARE CHANGED NOW...&lt;br /&gt;ANGELA BECOME OLD AND GOT LEPRSOY DISEASE..N LOST HER WEALTH...SHE WAS THROWN OUT OF THE CITY..&lt;br /&gt;CHILDREN USED TO THROW STONE ON HER....&lt;br /&gt;NOW AMEET CAME ...AMEET HUGGED HER AN WIPED OUT HER TEARS...&lt;br /&gt;AMEET CLEANED HER WOUNDS....&lt;br /&gt;THE WOUNDS DISAPPEARED BY THE TEARS OF AMEET EYES....AS SACRED TEARS BECAME MEDICINE FOR HER WOUNDS..&lt;br /&gt;AMEET SAID NOW IT IS RIGHT TIME...&lt;br /&gt;AND I LOVE YOU FOREVER TILL MY LIFE..&lt;br /&gt;ANGELA CRIED HAPPILY AND SAID NOW I GOT THE MEANING WHAT YOU HAVE SAID.....REALLY ....&lt;br /&gt;ITS NOT LUST.....&lt;br /&gt;YOUR LOVE IS SACRED....</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3875381447225268553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/3875381447225268553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/3875381447225268553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/3875381447225268553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2011/03/sacred-love.html' title='《≈◆SACRED LOVE◆≈》'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdyGfF83lcjhDAheffDpJryzl9YctO4jDkOWlC0RlNdk6Zjq5JdkitUDnFbD9c5xDj0ar1rWrI56R70N4l25jYZpWifFrldb3yHoGgbYTb2Zys0fOKvHiCzUwB86JIcuOA34XoBc1LgNg/s72-c/33453_158299304189494_100000282767786_421138_2441529_n.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-1953983713962816417</id><published>2010-10-02T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T23:07:11.960-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love is blind"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mother.mom i love u"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="secret"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="smssher"/><title type='text'>Secret behind successful marriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Once upon a time a married couple celebrated their 25th marriage anniversary. They had become famous in the city for not having a single conflict in their period of 25 years. Local newspaper editors had gathered at the occasion to find out the secret of their well known &quot;happy going marriage&quot;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Editor: &quot;Sir. It&#39;s amazingly unbelievable. How did you make this possible?&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband recalling his old honeymoon days said: &quot;We had been to Shimla for honeymoon after marriage. Having selected the horse riding finally, we both started the ride on different horses. My horse was pretty okay but the horse on which my wife was riding seemed to be a crazy one. &lt;br /&gt;On the way ahead, that horse jumped suddenly, making my wife topple over. Recovering her position from the ground, she patted the horse&#39;s back and said &quot;This is your first time&quot;. She again climbed the horse and continued with the ride. After a while, it happened again. This time she again kept calm and said &quot;This is your second time&quot; and continued. When the horse dropped her third time, she silently took out the revolver from the purse and shot the horse dead !! &lt;br /&gt;I shouted at my wife: &quot;What did you do you psycho. You killed the poor animal. Are you crazy?&quot; . &lt;br /&gt;She gave a silent look and said: &quot;This is your first time!!!&quot;.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband:&quot;That&#39; s it. We are happy ever after. &quot;&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1953983713962816417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/1953983713962816417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/1953983713962816417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/1953983713962816417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/10/once-upon-time-married-couple.html' title='Secret behind successful marriage'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-5366876186371766565</id><published>2010-10-01T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T09:16:05.722-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short love stories"/><title type='text'>salty coffee-love story</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt; amazing Love Story&lt;br /&gt;He met her on a party. She was so outstanding, many guys&lt;br /&gt;chasing after&lt;br /&gt;her, while he so normal, nobody paid attention to him. At&lt;br /&gt;the end of the&lt;br /&gt;party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was&lt;br /&gt;surprised, but&lt;br /&gt;due&lt;br /&gt;to being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee&lt;br /&gt;shop, he was too&lt;br /&gt;nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, she thought, please,&lt;br /&gt;let&lt;br /&gt;me go home.... suddenly he asked the waiter. &quot;would&lt;br /&gt;you please give me&lt;br /&gt;some salt? I&#39;d like to put it in my coffee....&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red,&lt;br /&gt;but still, he&lt;br /&gt;put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him&lt;br /&gt;curiously; why&lt;br /&gt;you&lt;br /&gt;have this hobby? He replied: &quot;when I was a little boy,&lt;br /&gt;I was living near&lt;br /&gt;the sea, I like playing in the sea, I could feel the taste&lt;br /&gt;of the sea,&lt;br /&gt;just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I&lt;br /&gt;have the salty&lt;br /&gt;coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my&lt;br /&gt;hometown, I miss my&lt;br /&gt;hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living&lt;br /&gt;there&quot;. While&lt;br /&gt;saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched.&lt;br /&gt;That&#39;s his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart.&lt;br /&gt;A man who can tell&lt;br /&gt;out his homesickness, he must be a man who loves home,&lt;br /&gt;cares about home,&lt;br /&gt;has responsibility of home. Then she also started to speak,&lt;br /&gt;spoke about&lt;br /&gt;her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family. That was a&lt;br /&gt;really nice&lt;br /&gt;talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story.&lt;br /&gt;They continued to date. She found that actually he was a&lt;br /&gt;man who meets&lt;br /&gt;all&lt;br /&gt;her demands; he had tolerance, was kind hearted, warm,&lt;br /&gt;careful. He was&lt;br /&gt;such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to his&lt;br /&gt;salty&lt;br /&gt;coffee!&lt;br /&gt;Then the story was just like every beautiful love story ,&lt;br /&gt;the princess married to the prince, then they were living the happy&lt;br /&gt;life... And,&lt;br /&gt;every&lt;br /&gt;time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the&lt;br /&gt;coffee e, as she&lt;br /&gt;knew that&#39;s the way he liked it.&lt;br /&gt;After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which&lt;br /&gt;said: &quot;My&lt;br /&gt;dearest,&lt;br /&gt;please forgive me, forgive my whole life lie. This was the&lt;br /&gt;only lie I&lt;br /&gt;said&lt;br /&gt;to you---the salty coffee. Remember the first time we&lt;br /&gt;dated? I was so&lt;br /&gt;nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I&lt;br /&gt;said salt It&lt;br /&gt;was&lt;br /&gt;hard for me to change so I just went ahead.I never thought&lt;br /&gt;that could be&lt;br /&gt;the start of our communication! I tried to tell you the&lt;br /&gt;truth many times&lt;br /&gt;in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have&lt;br /&gt;promised not to&lt;br /&gt;lie&lt;br /&gt;to you for anything..&lt;br /&gt;Now I&#39;m dying, I afraid of nothing so I tell you the&lt;br /&gt;truth: I don&#39;t like&lt;br /&gt;the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste.. But I have had&lt;br /&gt;the salty&lt;br /&gt;coffee for my whole life! Since I knew you, I never feel&lt;br /&gt;sorry for&lt;br /&gt;anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest&lt;br /&gt;happiness for my&lt;br /&gt;whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want&lt;br /&gt;to know you&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;have you for my whole life,even though I have to drink the&lt;br /&gt;salty coffee&lt;br /&gt;again&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;Her tears made the letter totally wet.Someday, someone&lt;br /&gt;asked her: what&#39;s&lt;br /&gt;the taste of salty coffee?&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s sweet. She replied.&lt;br /&gt;Love is not 2 forget but 2 forgive, not 2 c but 2&lt;br /&gt;understand, not 2 hear&lt;br /&gt;but 2 listen, not 2 let go but 2 HOLD ON !!!!&lt;br /&gt;Don&#39;t ever leave the one you love for the one you like,&lt;br /&gt;because the one&lt;br /&gt;you like will leave you for the one they love.&lt;br /&gt;Find one, who calls you beautiful instead of hot.&lt;br /&gt;Who calls you back when you hang up on him.&lt;br /&gt;Who will stay awake just to watch you sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Wait for the guy who kisses your forehead.&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to show you off to the world when you are in your&lt;br /&gt;sweats.&lt;br /&gt;Who holds your hand in front of his friends.&lt;br /&gt;Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how&lt;br /&gt;much he&lt;br /&gt;cares about you and how lucky he is to have you.&lt;br /&gt;Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says,&lt;br /&gt;&quot;...that&#39;s her.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5366876186371766565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/5366876186371766565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/5366876186371766565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/5366876186371766565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/10/salty-coffee-love-story.html' title='salty coffee-love story'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-143413073184493558</id><published>2010-05-05T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T09:36:52.755-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><title type='text'>True Love never leave u alone</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;In the beginning, the girl&#39;s family objected strongly on her dating this guy. Saying that it has got to do with family background &amp; that the girl will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to family&#39;s pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Though the girl love the guy deeply, but she always ask him: &quot;How deep is your love for me?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the guy is not good with his words, this often causes the girl to be very upset. With that &amp; the family&#39;s pressure, the girl often vents her anger on him. As for him, he only endures it in silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated &amp; decided to further his studies in overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the girl: &quot;I&#39;m not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I&#39;ll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl agreed, &amp; with the guy&#39;s determination, the family finally gave in &amp; agreed to let them get married. So before he leaves, they got engaged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails &amp; phone calls. Though it&#39;s hard, but both never thought of giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, while the girl was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realized that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. She has lost her voice...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her voice. Listening to her parents&#39; comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the stay in hospital, besides silence cry,.....it&#39;s still just silence cry that companied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart every time it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know. &amp; not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions &amp; millions of reply, and countless of phone calls,.. all the girl could do, besides crying, is still crying....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything &amp; be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a new environment, the girl learnt sign language &amp; started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her friend came &amp; told her that he&#39;s back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn&#39;t anymore news of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year has passed &amp; her friend came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy&#39;s wedding. The girl was shattered. When she opened the letter, she saw her name in it instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she was about to ask her friend what&#39;s going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her. He used sign language telling her &quot;I&#39;ve spent a year&#39;s time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I&#39;ve not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You. With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger. The girl finally smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=red&gt;Moral:&lt;/font&gt;True love never leaves you alone in worst situation&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/143413073184493558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/143413073184493558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/143413073184493558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/143413073184493558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/05/true-love-never-leave-u-alone.html' title='True Love never leave u alone'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-2696384860378382022</id><published>2010-05-05T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T09:32:18.836-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><title type='text'>Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Once upon a time, there was once a guy who was very much in love with this girl. This romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of paper cranes as a gift to his girl. Although, at that time he was just a small executive in his company, his future doesn&#39;t seemed too bright, they were very happy together. Until one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come back. She also told him that she cannot visualize any future for the both of them, so let&#39;s go their own ways there and then... heartbroken, the guy agreed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he regained his confidence, he worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make something out of himself. Finally with all these hard work and with the help of friends, this guy had set up his own company...&lt;br /&gt;&quot;You never fail until you stop trying.&quot; he always told himself. &quot;I must make it in life!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One rainy day, while this guy was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain walking to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still drenched. It didn&#39;t take him long to realize those were his ex-girlfriend&#39;s parents. With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan. He wanted them to know that he wasn&#39;t the same anymore. He had his own company, car, condo, etc. He had made it in life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the guy can realize, the couple was walking towards a cemetery, and he got out of his car and followed them...and he saw his ex-girlfriend, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as ever at him from her tombstone... and he saw his precious paper cranes in a bottle placed beside her tomb. Her parents saw him. He walked over and asked them why this had happened. They explained, she did not leave for France at all. She was stricken ill with cancer. In her heart, she had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not want her illness to be his obstacle ... therefore she had chosen to leave him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had wanted her parents to put his paper cranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him to her again he can take some of those back with him. The guy just wept ...the worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside them but knowing you can&#39;t have them and will never see them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=red&gt;Moral:&lt;/font&gt;Love means sacrifice.&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2696384860378382022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/2696384860378382022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/2696384860378382022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/2696384860378382022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/05/love-never-dies.html' title='Sacrifice'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-4779395384031660286</id><published>2010-04-21T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T09:11:13.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Once,all villagers decided to pray for rain.On the day of prayer all the people gathered,but only one boy came with an umbrella.&lt;br /&gt;Thats Faith....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=red&gt;Moral:&lt;/font&gt;Never give up hope in any circumstances.&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4779395384031660286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/4779395384031660286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/4779395384031660286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/4779395384031660286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/04/faith.html' title='Faith'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-1066859027322470306</id><published>2010-04-21T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T08:57:49.853-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tips"/><title type='text'>Little child&#39;s tips to waiter</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A 10 year old boy went to an ice-cream shop &amp; asked :How much a cone costs? Waiter said-&quot;Rs. 15&quot;.The boy started counting how much he had in his wallet.Then he asked how much a small cup cost?The irritated waiter said:&quot;Rs.12&quot;.The boy asked for a small cup.He had it,paid the bill &amp; left.when the waiter came to pick the empty plate,he was touched.The boy had left Rs.3 as a tip for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=red&gt;Moral:&lt;/font&gt;Try n make someone happy with something u have.&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1066859027322470306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/1066859027322470306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/1066859027322470306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/1066859027322470306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/04/little-childs-tips-to-waiter.html' title='Little child&#39;s tips to waiter'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-5125007066309420750</id><published>2010-04-21T02:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T02:18:41.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>True Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;TWO FRIENDS WERE WALKING &lt;br /&gt;THROUGH THE DESERT . &lt;br /&gt;DURING SOME POINT OF THE&lt;br /&gt;JOURNEY, THEY HAD AN&lt;br /&gt;ARGUMENT; AND ONE FRIEND&lt;br /&gt;SLAPPED THE OTHER ONE&lt;br /&gt;IN THE FACE     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE ONE WHO GOT SLAPPED &lt;br /&gt;WAS HURT, BUT WITHOUT&lt;br /&gt;SAYING ANYTHING,&lt;br /&gt;WROTE IN THE SAND , &lt;br /&gt;TODAY MY BEST FRIEND &lt;br /&gt;SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEY KEPT ON WALKING,&lt;br /&gt;UNTIL THEY FOUND AN OASIS, &lt;br /&gt;WHERE THEY DECIDED&lt;br /&gt;TO TAKE A BATH . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE ONE WHO HAD BEEN&lt;br /&gt;SLAPPED GOT STUCK IN THE&lt;br /&gt;MIRE AND STARTED DROWNING,&lt;br /&gt;BUT THE FRIEND SAVED HIM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AFTER HE RECOVERED FROM&lt;br /&gt;THE NEAR DROWNING,&lt;br /&gt;HE WROTE ON A STONE: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&#39;TODAY MY BEST FRIEND&lt;br /&gt;SAVED MY LIFE&#39;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE FRIEND WHO HAD SLAPPED &lt;br /&gt;AND SAVED HIS BEST FRIEND&lt;br /&gt;ASKED HIM, &#39;AFTER I HURT YOU,&lt;br /&gt;YOU WROTE IN THE SAND AND NOW,&lt;br /&gt;YOU WRITE ON A STONE, WHY?&#39;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE FRIEND REPLIED&lt;br /&gt;&#39;WHEN SOMEONE HURTS US&lt;br /&gt;WE SHOULD WRITE IT DOWN &lt;br /&gt;IN SAND, WHERE WINDS OF&lt;br /&gt;FORGIVENESS CAN ERASE IT AWAY. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, WHEN SOMEONE DOES&lt;br /&gt;SOMETHING GOOD FOR US,&lt;br /&gt;WE MUST ENGRAVE IT IN STONE&lt;br /&gt;WHERE NO WIND&lt;br /&gt;CAN EVER ERASE IT&#39;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LEARN TO WRITE&lt;br /&gt;YOUR HURTS IN&lt;br /&gt;THE SAND AND TO&lt;br /&gt;CARVE YOUR&lt;br /&gt;BENEFITS IN STONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEY SAY IT TAKES A&lt;br /&gt;MINUTE TO FIND A SPECIAL&lt;br /&gt;PERSON,   &lt;br /&gt; AN HOUR TO &lt;br /&gt;APPRECIATE THEM,   &lt;br /&gt; A DAY &lt;br /&gt;TO LOVE THEM, &lt;br /&gt;  BUT THEN , &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AN ENTIRE LIFE&lt;br /&gt;TO FORGET THEM.&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5125007066309420750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/5125007066309420750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/5125007066309420750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/5125007066309420750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/04/true-friend.html' title='True Friend'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-9063137575466880199</id><published>2010-03-08T07:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T07:28:44.755-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God&#39;s help</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Ek Aurat ne sakht bimari ke haalat me khwab dekha ki &quot;shirdi wale Sai Baba&quot; usko pani dete hai or uski seva karte hai jis se wo thik ho jaati hai.Subah jab Aurat jagti hai to wo thik ho chuki thi aur uske paas ek tukda pada hua tha,Jis pe likha tha &quot;sabka Maalik Ek&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral:-God always helps you in need&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/9063137575466880199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/9063137575466880199' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/9063137575466880199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/9063137575466880199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/03/gods-help.html' title='God&#39;s help'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-445797954948615773</id><published>2010-03-08T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T07:17:32.787-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where there is a will there is a way</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;An old farmer lived on his farm.He wrote to his Innocent son in prison &quot;this year i won&#39;t be able to plant potatoes bcoz I can&#39;t dig the ground at this old age.I know if u were here you would help me&quot;.The son replied &quot;don&#39;t dig the ground,That&#39;s where I buried the guns&quot;.The next day the ground was dug by police in search of guns but nothing was found.The son wrote again &quot;Plant your potatoes Dad,its the best I could do form here for you&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;Moral:-Where there is a will there is a way&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/445797954948615773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/445797954948615773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/445797954948615773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/445797954948615773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2010/03/where-there-is-will-there-is-way.html' title='Where there is a will there is a way'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-1533585763147317729</id><published>2009-08-23T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T09:29:08.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A blunder</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A man was polishing his new car, his 4 yr old son&lt;br /&gt;picked stone &amp; scratched lines on the side of the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In anger, the man took the child&#39;s hand &amp; hit it&lt;br /&gt;many times, not realizing he was using an iron wrench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the hospital, the child lost all his fingers due to&lt;br /&gt;multiple fractures. When the child saw his father....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with painful eyes he asked &#39;Dad when will my fingers&lt;br /&gt;grow back?&#39;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man was so hurt and speechless. He went back to car and&lt;br /&gt;kicked it a lot of times.&lt;br /&gt;Devastated by his own actions...... sitting in front of&lt;br /&gt;that car he looked at the scratches, child had written&lt;br /&gt;&#39;LOVE YOU DAD&#39;.&lt;br /&gt;The next day that man committed suicide....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anger and Love have NO LIMIT - choose the latter to have a&lt;br /&gt;beautiful &amp; lovely life....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THINGS are meant to be USED and PEOPLE are to be LOVED,&lt;br /&gt;...but the problem of today&#39;s world is that...&lt;br /&gt;People are used&lt;br /&gt;&amp; Things are loved!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One can change if ONE wants to !  ...&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1533585763147317729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/1533585763147317729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/1533585763147317729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/1533585763147317729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/blunder.html' title='A blunder'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-5983424973391251814</id><published>2009-02-14T23:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T03:25:34.164-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blind girl"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love is blind"/><title type='text'>Love is blind</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style=&quot;font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);&quot; align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;There was a blind girl who hated herself just                        because she was blind. She hated everyone, except her loving                        boyfriend. He was always there for her. She said that if                        she could only see the world, she would marry her boyfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                     &lt;p style=&quot;font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);&quot; align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt; One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to                        her and then she could see everything, including her boyfriend.                       &lt;br /&gt;                      Her boyfriend asked her, &quot;now that you can see the                        world, will you marry me?&quot; The girl was shocked when                        she saw that her boyfriend was blind too, and refused to                        marry him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                     &lt;p style=&quot;font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);&quot; align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;Her boyfriend walked away in tears, and later                        wrote a letter to her saying..... &quot;Just take care of                        my eyes dear.&quot; i&#39;ll always love you forever..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5983424973391251814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/5983424973391251814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/5983424973391251814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/5983424973391251814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-is-blind.html' title='Love is blind'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-3464429769985754193</id><published>2009-01-08T03:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T04:01:54.399-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><title type='text'>Seven Days Of Creation by God</title><content type='html'>DAy 1.In the begining God created heaven and the earth and athe spirit of God move upon the face of water and God sai let there be light And there was light.&lt;br /&gt;DAy 2.And God said let htere be a firmament in the mist of waters and let it divide the waters from the waters.&lt;br /&gt;DAy 3.An God said let the dry land appear And God said let the earth&lt;br /&gt;bring forth grass,the land yielding seed and the fruit tree.&lt;br /&gt;DAy 4.And the God made two great lights sun n moon.He make the star also.&lt;br /&gt;DAy 5.God created great whales and every living creatures&lt;br /&gt;which the waters brought forth abundaly and every wings fowl.&lt;br /&gt;DAy 6.And God made the beast of the earth An God said let us make man in our image.And God saw everthing that he made and behold it was very good.&lt;br /&gt;DAy 7.And God make two feelings Love n Hate.LOve to love all n Hate to realise the value of Love .God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                        &lt;a style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;&quot; href=&quot;http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/well-see.html&quot;&gt;Next Love sotry &gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3464429769985754193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/3464429769985754193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/3464429769985754193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/3464429769985754193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/seven-days-of-creation-by-god.html' title='Seven Days Of Creation by God'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-6402695865817143134</id><published>2008-12-05T05:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T04:03:59.079-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We&#39;ll See..</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time, there was a farmer in the central region of China . He didn&#39;t have a lot of money and, instead of a tractor, he used an old horse to plow his field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One afternoon, while working in the field, the horse dropped dead. Everyone in the village said, &quot;Oh, what a horrible thing to happen.&quot; The farmer said simply, &quot;We&#39;ll see.&quot; He was so at peace and so calm, that everyone in the village got together and, admiring his attitude, gave him a new horse as a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone&#39;s reaction now was, &quot;What a lucky man.&quot; And the farmer said, &quot;We&#39;ll see.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple days later, the new horse jumped a fence and ran away. Everyone in the village shook their heads and said, &quot;What a poor fellow!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer smiled and said, &quot;We&#39;ll see.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, the horse found his way home, and everyone again said, &quot;What a fortunate man.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer said, &quot;We&#39;ll see.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the year, the farmer&#39;s young boy went out riding on the horse and fell and broke his leg. Everyone in the village said, &quot;What a shame for the poor boy.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer said, &quot;We&#39;ll see.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later, the army came into the village to draft new recruits. When they saw that the farmer&#39;s son had a broken leg, they decided not to recruit him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone said, &quot;What a fortunate young man.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer smiled again - and said &quot;We&#39;ll see.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: There&#39;s no use in overreacting to the events and circumstances of our everyday lives. Many times what looks like a setback, may actually be a gift in disguise. And when our hearts are in the right place, all events and circumstances are gifts that we can learn valuable lessons from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Fra Giovanni once said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Everything we call a trial, a sorrow, or a duty, believe me... the gift is there and the wonder of an overshadowing presence.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/real-meaning-of-peace.html&quot;&gt;Next Love story  &gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6402695865817143134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/6402695865817143134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/6402695865817143134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/6402695865817143134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/well-see.html' title='We&#39;ll See..'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-300840988971009268</id><published>2008-12-05T05:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T08:11:42.962-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short love stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="short stories"/><title type='text'>The Real Meaning of Peace..</title><content type='html'>The Real Meaning of Peace..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There once was a king who offered a prize to the artist&lt;br /&gt;who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists&lt;br /&gt;tried. The king looked at all the pictures. But there&lt;br /&gt;were only two he really liked, and he had to choose &lt;br /&gt;between them. &lt;br /&gt;One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a &lt;br /&gt;perfect mirror for peaceful towering mountains all around&lt;br /&gt;it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. &lt;br /&gt;All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect &lt;br /&gt;picture of peace.&lt;br /&gt;The other picture had mountains, too. But these were rugged &lt;br /&gt;and bare. Above was an angry sky, from which rain fell and in which lightning played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all.&lt;br /&gt;But when the king looked closely, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of angry water, sat the mother bird on her nest - in perfect peace.&lt;br /&gt;Which picture do you think won the prize? The king chose the second picture. Do you know why?&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Because,&quot; explained the king, &quot;peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace.&quot;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/300840988971009268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/300840988971009268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/300840988971009268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/300840988971009268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/real-meaning-of-peace.html' title='The Real Meaning of Peace..'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-4794549581226109557</id><published>2008-12-05T05:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T05:48:50.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Give Time to ur Loved ones</title><content type='html'>A Gud moral ...take time to read &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elderly man in Mumbai calls his son in New York and says, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I hate to ruin your day son, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are getting a divorce; 35 years of marriage... and that much misery is enough!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Dad, what are you talking about?&quot; the son screams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;We can&#39;t stand the sight of each other any longer,&quot; the old man says. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;We&#39;re sick of each other, and I&#39;m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Hong Kong and tell her!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Like heck they&#39;re getting divorced,&quot; she shouts, &quot;I&#39;ll take care of this.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She calls Mumbai immediately, and screams at the old man,   &lt;br /&gt;&quot;You are not getting divorced. Don&#39;t do a single thing until I get there. I&#39;m calling my brother back, and we&#39;ll both be there tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then , don&#39;t do a thing, DO YOU HEAR??&quot; and she hangs up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife.  &quot;Okay&quot;, he says, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;It&#39;s all set. They&#39;re both coming for New Year and paying their own airfare!!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No man / woman is busy in this world all 365 days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sky is not going to fall down if you take few days LEAVE or some time away from work and meet your dear ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OFFICE WORK IS NOT EVERYTHING IN LIFE and MONEY MAKING IS NOT EVERYTHING IN LIFE.  AFTER ALL MOST OF THE TIME WE WILL BE WORKING FOR SOMEONE ELSE&#39;S DREAM..</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4794549581226109557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/4794549581226109557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/4794549581226109557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/4794549581226109557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/give-time-to-ur-loved-ones.html' title='Give Time to ur Loved ones'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-6709092087624890961</id><published>2008-11-20T05:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T05:56:59.031-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love mother love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="maa"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memory"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mother.mom i love u"/><title type='text'>How can I forget my MOM?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;When you came in to the world,she held you in her arms.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by wailing like a banshee.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 1 year old,she fed you and bathed you.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by crying all night long.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 2 year old,she taught you to walk.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by running away when she called.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 3 year old,she made all your meals with love.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by tossing your plate on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 4 year old,she gave you some crayons.&lt;br /&gt;You thank her by coloring the dining room table.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 5  year old,she dressed you for the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by plopping into the nearest pile of mud.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 6 year old,she walked you to the school.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by screaming.&quot;I M NOT GOING!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;When you were 7 year old,she brought you a baseball.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by throwing the next door neighbour&#39;s window.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 8 year old,she handled you an ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by dripping it all over your lap.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 9 year old,she paid for piano lessons.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by never even bothering to practice.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 10 year old,she drove you all day.from soccer to gymnastics to one birthday party after another.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by jumping out of the car and never looking back.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 11 year old,she took you and your friends to the movies.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by asking to sit in a different row.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 12 years old,she warned you not watch certain TV shows.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by waiting untill she left the house.&lt;br /&gt;Those teenage years&lt;br /&gt;When you were 13,she suggested a haircut that was becoming.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by telling her she had no taste.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 14 year old,she paid for a month away at summer camp.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by forgetting to write a single letter.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 15,she came home from work,looking for a hug.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by having your bedroom door locked.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 16,she taught you how to drive her car.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by taking it every chance you could.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 17,she was expecting an important call.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by being on the phone all night.&lt;br /&gt;when You were 18,she cried at your high school graduation.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by staying out partying untill dawn.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 19,she paid for all your college tuition,&lt;br /&gt;drove you to campus,carried your bags.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by saying good-bye outside the dorm&lt;br /&gt;so you wouldn&#39;t be embarassed in front of your friends.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 20,she asked whether you were seeing anyone.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by saying,&quot;Its none of your business&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 21,she suggested certain careers for your future.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by saying,&quot;I don&#39;t want to be like you&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 22,she hugged you at your college graduation.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by asking whether she could pay for a trip to Europe.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 23,she gtave you furniture for your first apartment.&lt;br /&gt;You thanke her by telling your friends it was ugly.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 24,she met your fiance and asked about your plans for the futre.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by glaring and growling,&quot;Muuhhther,please!&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 25,she helped to pay for your wedding,nad she cried and told youhow deeply she loved you.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by moving halfway across the country.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 30,she called with some advice on the baby.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by telling her,&quot;Things are different now&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 40,she called to remind you of an relative&#39;s birthday.You thanked her by saying you were &quot;really busy right now&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;When you were 50,she fell ill and needed you to take care of her.&lt;br /&gt;You thanked her by reading about the burden parents become to their children.&lt;br /&gt;And then, one day,she quietly died.And everything you never did came crashing down like thunder.&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Rock me babay,rock me all night long&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;The hand who rocks the cradle......may rock the world..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us take a moment of the time just to show appreciation to the person called MOM through some may &lt;br /&gt;not say it openly to their mother.&lt;br /&gt;About Mom-There is no substitute for her.Cherished every single moment.Though at times she may not be the best of friends,may not agree&lt;br /&gt;to our thoughts,she is still your mother!!!&lt;br /&gt;She will be there for you.......to listen your woes,your braggings,your frustrations etc.Ask yourself.......&lt;br /&gt;have you put aside enough time for her,to listen to her &quot;blues&quot;of working in the kitchen,her tiredness???&lt;br /&gt;Be tactful,loving and still show her due respect though you may have a different view from hers. &lt;br /&gt;Once gone,only fond memories of the past and also regrets will be left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6709092087624890961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/6709092087624890961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/6709092087624890961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/6709092087624890961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/how-can-i-forget-my-mom.html' title='How can I forget my MOM?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-5342799216673639264</id><published>2008-11-20T05:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T05:32:18.037-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="time"/><title type='text'>Take the Time to know What  Real Love is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;once upon a time,there waS AN ISLAND WHERE ALL feelings lived&lt;br /&gt;Happiness,Sadness,Knowledge and all others including Love.&lt;br /&gt;One day it was announced to the feelings that the Island would sink.&lt;br /&gt;so they all prepared boats and left.Love was the only one who stayed.&lt;br /&gt;But when love was almost sinking.Love decided to ask help&lt;br /&gt;love cries&quot;help help!!!Who can Help me?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Love asked to Richness-Richness,can you take me with you???&lt;br /&gt;Richness-No.I can&#39;t.There is a lot of gold in my ballon,there is no place here for you$$$$.&lt;br /&gt;Then Love asked to sadness-Sadness let me go with you&lt;br /&gt;Sadness-Oh.....Love,I m so sad that I prefer to go alone.&lt;br /&gt;Then Love asked to Happiness-Happiness,Help me Help me.........&lt;br /&gt;Happiness was so happy so he did not listen when Love call him!&lt;br /&gt;When Love was almost give up asking for help.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly there was a voice &lt;br /&gt;Come love i will take you&lt;br /&gt;The one who helped Love is an elder. Love became very happy that Love even forgot to ask the elder his name.....&lt;br /&gt;When they arrived on dry land.The elder went on his own way..........&lt;br /&gt;Then love asked knowledge,another elder,the name of the elder who had helped him.&lt;br /&gt;Knowledge says-His name is &quot;Time&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;Love asks To knowledge-Time?But why did Time help me??&lt;br /&gt;Knowledge says-Because only Time is capable of understanding how great love is.....&lt;br /&gt;Love-Ohhh!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Take the Time to know What  Real Love is&quot;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5342799216673639264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/5342799216673639264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/5342799216673639264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/5342799216673639264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/take-time-to-know-what-real-love-is.html' title='Take the Time to know What  Real Love is...'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4926011616522086951.post-4302089294773696274</id><published>2008-11-10T05:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T05:10:09.996-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="god answer why woman cry?"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="why woman cry"/><title type='text'>Why Woman Cry?</title><content type='html'>Why are you crying?                      a young boy asked his Mom.&lt;br /&gt;Because I’m a woman, she told him.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t understand, he said.&lt;br /&gt;His Mom just hugged him and said:                                …and you never will, but that’s okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later the little boy asked his father, &lt;br /&gt;Why does Mom seem to cry for no reason?&lt;br /&gt;All women cry for no reason.&lt;br /&gt;…was all his dad could say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, he went on his knees and asked God:&lt;br /&gt; GOD... Why do women cry so easily?&lt;br /&gt; And God answered...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…When I made women, I decided she had to be special.&lt;br /&gt;I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet her arms gentle enough to give comfort!&lt;br /&gt;I gave her the inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times will come, even from her own children!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going and take care of her family and friends, even when everyone else gives up, through sickness and fatigue, without complaint!&lt;br /&gt;I gave her sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her badly!  She has the very special power to make a child’s boo-boo feel better and to quell a teenager’s anxieties and fears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave her strength to care for her husband, despite faults, and I fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart!&lt;br /&gt;I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son, for all of this hard work…      &lt;br /&gt;I also gave her a tear to shed.  It is hers to use whenever needed and is her only weakness!&lt;br /&gt;  When you see her cry, tell her how much you love her and all she does for everyone.  And even though she may still cry, you will have made her heart feel good.&lt;br /&gt;She is special!!!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4302089294773696274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4926011616522086951/4302089294773696274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/4302089294773696274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4926011616522086951/posts/default/4302089294773696274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-woman-cry.html' title='Why Woman Cry?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>