<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4NQHc-eip7ImA9WhRQEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689</id><updated>2011-12-06T01:49:51.952-08:00</updated><category term="Gadgets" /><category term="Worth thinking" /><category term="Speech worth reading" /><category term="Just for fun" /><category term="Did You know?" /><category term="Short story" /><title>my email inbox</title><subtitle type="html">Inspirational and informative emails straight from my email inbox</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MyEmailInbox" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="myemailinbox" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0">MyEmailInbox</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0">http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cARXo6eyp7ImA9WhdVEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-7128824711049904980</id><published>2011-09-16T01:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T01:17:24.413-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-16T01:17:24.413-07:00</app:edited><title>THE  GINGHAM DRESS</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span color="color" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Comic; font-size: 13.0pt;"&gt;A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun
    threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly
    without an appointment into the Harvard University&amp;nbsp;President's outer
    office.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had
    no business at Harvard &amp;amp; probably didn't even deserve to be in
    Cambridge.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    "We'd &amp;nbsp;like to see the president," the man said
    &amp;nbsp;softly.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    "He'll &amp;nbsp;be busy all day," the secretary &amp;nbsp;snapped.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    "We'll &amp;nbsp;wait," the lady replied.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
    For &amp;nbsp;hours the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would
    finally &amp;nbsp;become discouraged and go &amp;nbsp;away.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    They &amp;nbsp;didn't, and the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to
    disturb &amp;nbsp;the president, even though it was a chore she always
    &amp;nbsp;regretted.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    "Maybe &amp;nbsp;if you see them for a few minutes, they'll leave,"
    she said to &amp;nbsp;him!&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    He &amp;nbsp;sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance
    obviously &amp;nbsp;didn't have the time to spend with them, and he detested
    gingham dresses &amp;nbsp;and homespun suits cluttering up his outer
    &amp;nbsp;office.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    The &amp;nbsp;president, stern faced and with dignity, strutted toward the
    &amp;nbsp;couple.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    The lady &amp;nbsp;told him, "We had a son who attended Harvard for one
    year. He loved &amp;nbsp;Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he
    was accidentally &amp;nbsp;killed. My husband and I would like to erect a
    memorial to him, &amp;nbsp;somewhere on campus."&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    The &amp;nbsp;president wasn't touched. He was shocked. "Madam," he
    said, gruffly, "we &amp;nbsp;can't put up a statue for every person who
    attended Harvard and died. If &amp;nbsp;we did, this place would look like a
    &amp;nbsp;cemetery."&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    "Oh, &amp;nbsp;no," the lady explained quickly. "We don't want
    to erect a statue. We &amp;nbsp;thought we would like to give a building to
    &amp;nbsp;Harvard."&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    The &amp;nbsp;president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and
    homespun &amp;nbsp;suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any
    &amp;nbsp;earthly&lt;br /&gt;
    idea how &amp;nbsp;much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million
    dollars in &amp;nbsp;the physical buildings here at &amp;nbsp;Harvard."&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    For a &amp;nbsp;moment the lady was silent. The president was pleased. Maybe he
    could &amp;nbsp;get rid of them now.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    The lady &amp;nbsp;turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it
    cost to start a &amp;nbsp;university? Why don't we just start our own? "
    Her husband nodded. The &amp;nbsp;president's face wilted in confusion and
    &amp;nbsp;bewilderment.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    Mr. and &amp;nbsp;Mrs. Leland Stanford got up and walked away, traveling to
    Palo Alto, &amp;nbsp;California where they established the university that
    bears their name, &amp;nbsp;Stanford University, a memorial to a son that
    Harvard no longer cared &amp;nbsp;about.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span color="color" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Comic; font-size: 13.0pt;"&gt;You &amp;nbsp;can easily judge the character of others by how they
    treat those who &amp;nbsp;they think can do nothing for &amp;nbsp;them.&lt;br /&gt;
    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span color="color" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Comic; font-size: 13.0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
    --- A &amp;nbsp;TRUE STORY By Malcolm &amp;nbsp;Forbes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-7128824711049904980?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ukEG5fuKlwQZo_VVy3N6c7v6zig/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ukEG5fuKlwQZo_VVy3N6c7v6zig/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ukEG5fuKlwQZo_VVy3N6c7v6zig/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ukEG5fuKlwQZo_VVy3N6c7v6zig/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7128824711049904980/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2011/09/gingham-dress.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7128824711049904980?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7128824711049904980?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2011/09/gingham-dress.html" title="THE  GINGHAM DRESS" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4ARns7fCp7ImA9WhdWFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-4071234686039230177</id><published>2010-09-17T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T08:15:47.504-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T08:15:47.504-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Just for fun" /><title>Vatican Humor</title><content type="html">After getting Pope Benedict’s entire luggage loaded into the limo, (and he doesn't travel light), the driver notices the Pope is still standing on the curb.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Excuse me, Your Holiness," says the driver, "Would you please take your seat so we can leave?"&lt;br /&gt;
"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "they never let me drive at the Vatican when I was a cardinal, and I'd really like to drive today."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I'm sorry, Your Holiness, but I cannot let you do that. I'd lose my job! What if something should happen?" protests the driver, wishing he'd never gone to work that morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Who's going to tell?" says the Pope with a smile?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Reluctantly, the driver gets in the back as the Pope climbs in behind the wheel. The driver quickly regrets his decision when, after exiting the airport, the Pontiff floors it, accelerating the limo to 205 kph. (Remember, the Pope is German.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Please slow down, Your Holiness!" pleads the worried driver, but the Pope keeps the pedal to the metal until they hear sirens.&lt;br /&gt;
"Oh, dear God, I'm going to lose my license -- and my job!" moans the driver.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Pope pulls over and rolls down the window as the cop approaches, but the cop takes one look at him, goes back to his motorcycle, and gets on the radio.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I need to talk to the Chief," he says to the dispatcher.&lt;br /&gt;
The Chief gets on the radio and the cop tells him that he's stopped a limo going 205 kph.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"So bust him," says the Chief.&lt;br /&gt;
"I don't think we want to do that, he's really important," said the cop.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Chief exclaimed," All the more reason!"&lt;br /&gt;
"No, I mean really important," said the cop with a bit of persistence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Chief then asked, "Who do you have there, the mayor?"&lt;br /&gt;
Cop: "Bigger."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Chief: “A senator?"&lt;br /&gt;
Cop: "Bigger."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Chief: "The Prime Minister?"&lt;br /&gt;
Cop: "Bigger."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well," said the Chief, "Who is it?"&lt;br /&gt;
Cop: "I think it's God!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Chief is even more puzzled and curious, "What makes you think it's God?"&lt;br /&gt;
Cop: "His chauffeur is the Pope!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-4071234686039230177?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D3DTplg607yJqwKhiVud2XoAtjo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D3DTplg607yJqwKhiVud2XoAtjo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D3DTplg607yJqwKhiVud2XoAtjo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D3DTplg607yJqwKhiVud2XoAtjo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/4071234686039230177/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/vatican-humor.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4071234686039230177?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4071234686039230177?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/vatican-humor.html" title="Vatican Humor" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4NSHc_fSp7ImA9WhdWFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-8680816116876112190</id><published>2010-09-16T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T08:16:39.945-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T08:16:39.945-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Worth thinking" /><title>Just a 20 dollars an hour</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/SJPzCfRiSFI/AAAAAAAABg0/yn0ShNPKOUQ/s1600-h/20_bill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/SJPzCfRiSFI/AAAAAAAABg0/wjO5U1mXCUY/s320-R/20_bill.jpg" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" wc="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;SON:&lt;/b&gt; 'Daddy, may I ask you a question?' &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;DAD:&lt;/b&gt; 'Yeah sure, what it is?' replied the man.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;SON:&lt;/b&gt; 'Daddy, how much do you make an hour?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;DAD:&lt;/b&gt; 'That's none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?' the man said angrily. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;SON:&lt;/b&gt; 'I just want to know.. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;DAD:&lt;/b&gt; 'If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour.' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;SON:&lt;/b&gt; 'Oh,' the little boy replied, with his head down. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;SON:&lt;/b&gt; 'Daddy, may I please borrow $10.00 ?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The father was furious, 'If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I work hard everyday for such this childish behaviour.'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money? After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10.00 and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
'Are you asleep, son?' He asked. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; 'No daddy, I'm awake,' replied the boy. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
'I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier' said the man. &lt;br /&gt;
'It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $10.00 you asked for.' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little boy sat straight up, smiling. 'Oh, thank you daddy!' He yelled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'Why do you want more money if you already have some?' the father grumbled. &lt;br /&gt;
'Because I didn't have enough, but now I do,' the little boy replied. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
'Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.' &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
It's just a short reminder to all of &amp;nbsp;you working so hard in life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts. Do remember to share that $20.00 worth of your time with someone you love. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family &amp;amp; friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-8680816116876112190?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iAqpuzMxaa7y6oyN32AT9Yq9EnM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iAqpuzMxaa7y6oyN32AT9Yq9EnM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iAqpuzMxaa7y6oyN32AT9Yq9EnM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iAqpuzMxaa7y6oyN32AT9Yq9EnM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/8680816116876112190/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-20-dollars-hour.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/8680816116876112190?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/8680816116876112190?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-20-dollars-hour.html" title="Just a 20 dollars an hour" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/SJPzCfRiSFI/AAAAAAAABg0/wjO5U1mXCUY/s72-Rc/20_bill.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ANRns-eip7ImA9WhdWEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-7654479687005711994</id><published>2009-09-19T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T23:03:17.552-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-02T23:03:17.552-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gadgets" /><title>The Replacement, Samsung SGH-E250i</title><content type="html">I’ve got my new mobile phone today the Samsung SGH-E250i given to me as free for being a loyal subscriber of Sun cellular. My mobile phone got stole so I report it immediately to sun cellular, luckily my contract for being a subscriber was already been expired and when I went to Sun cellular to get a replacement for the stole sim card I found out that I am entitled for a renewal of the contract for another 2 years and in return a free phone was given to me, the Samsung SGH-E250i.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Actually I have an option to select another mobile phone, I only choose Samsung because this was also the brand of my other mobile phone and I can say so far I am satisfied with the durability and performance of Samsung.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Samsung SGH-E250i is compact. The width is about 1/3 of a dollar bill with a width of about 2/3 when not in slide open and about 3/4 when fully open. The thickness was slim enough for the phone so as not become noticeable when inside your pocket.&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The features include a Bluetooth wireless technology that becomes handy when transferring files from your other mobile phone, an MP3 player to play your favorite music, an FM radio with recording if you want to record something. A VGA camera &amp;amp; Video recording, however not included on the packaged is the micro SD card for storing files so you need to buy that one if you want more storage capacity. Ring tones can also be adjusted, you can select for the default ring tones installed on the unit as well as you can select for the custom ring tones that you can get form other mobile phone or thru some of the downloadable sites.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also, why I choose this phone is because it’s a dual band, which means that it will works on some part of the world since I do some travel sometimes, however I have no idea yet on where country it will works because it does indicates on the manual, just need to try it out first next time I travel.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since it was new, I have not yet familiar with some of the features but so far I am satisfied with the mobile phone I choose and that’s what the most important.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-7654479687005711994?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mRzCcronUwGWmtYMrol9sfkCjpU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mRzCcronUwGWmtYMrol9sfkCjpU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mRzCcronUwGWmtYMrol9sfkCjpU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mRzCcronUwGWmtYMrol9sfkCjpU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7654479687005711994/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/09/replacement-samsung-sgh-e250i.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7654479687005711994?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7654479687005711994?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/09/replacement-samsung-sgh-e250i.html" title="The Replacement, Samsung SGH-E250i" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cMSHo5eCp7ImA9WhdWFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-6411938764361937279</id><published>2009-09-12T00:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T08:18:09.420-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T08:18:09.420-07:00</app:edited><title>The Wooden Bowl</title><content type="html">A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson.. &lt;br /&gt;
The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess.&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
'We must do something about father,' said the son.&lt;br /&gt;
'I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. &lt;br /&gt;
Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The four-year-old watched it all in silence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, 'What are you making?' Just as sweetly, the boy responded, 'Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
' The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family.... And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On a positive note, I've learned that, no matter what happens, how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles four things: &lt;br /&gt;
a rainy day, the elderly, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as making a 'life..' &lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands.You nee d to be able to throw something back sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you But, if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others, your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.&lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that every day, you should reach out and touch someone. &lt;br /&gt;
People love that human touch -- holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-6411938764361937279?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bx8sh370vuOb9xr9DHYT-aDYAg4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bx8sh370vuOb9xr9DHYT-aDYAg4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bx8sh370vuOb9xr9DHYT-aDYAg4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bx8sh370vuOb9xr9DHYT-aDYAg4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6411938764361937279/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/09/wooden-bowl.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/6411938764361937279?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/6411938764361937279?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/09/wooden-bowl.html" title="The Wooden Bowl" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UDQ3g4eyp7ImA9WxJQFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-4064793859251954668</id><published>2009-05-29T19:41:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:41:12.633-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T19:41:12.633-07:00</app:edited><title>Short Story</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding-left:0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/12/wonderful-story.html"&gt;A Wonderful Story &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/l-o-v-e.html"&gt;Love&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-attorney.html"&gt;My Attorney &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/two-choices.html"&gt;Two Choices &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/story-that-can-touch-your-heart.html"&gt;An Story That Can Touch Your Heart&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/20-considerable-message-i-want-to-share.html"&gt;$20 Considerable Message I Want To Share With You.... &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/enteresting-conversation.html"&gt;Enteresting Conversation &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/lessons-of-square-watermelon.html"&gt;Lessons of the Square Watermelon &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-hot-is-hell-true-story.html"&gt;How Hot Is Hell – A True Story &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/05/carpenter.html"&gt;The Carpenter!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/05/teaching-manners.html"&gt;Teaching Manners &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/05/no-sex-since-1955.html"&gt;No Sex Since 1955&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/02/judgement.html"&gt;Judgement&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/01/on-being-deaf.html"&gt;On being deaf...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/01/basureros.html"&gt;The Basureros&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-4064793859251954668?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xeTCm5S5_BF2OOQRS5WBdZSVpEk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xeTCm5S5_BF2OOQRS5WBdZSVpEk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xeTCm5S5_BF2OOQRS5WBdZSVpEk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xeTCm5S5_BF2OOQRS5WBdZSVpEk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/4064793859251954668/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/short-story.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4064793859251954668?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4064793859251954668?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/short-story.html" title="Short Story" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQGRnY7fCp7ImA9WxJQFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-1921526588298956097</id><published>2009-05-29T19:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:25:27.804-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T19:25:27.804-07:00</app:edited><title>Did You Know?</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding-left:0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/breathing-therapy.html"&gt;Breathing Therapy &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/pre-school-test-for-you.html"&gt;A Pre-school Test for You&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/01/did-u-know-this.html"&gt;Did You Know This?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/01/can-you-read.html"&gt;Can You Read? &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-1921526588298956097?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nNlyLwC2snwpKyx_U0wPcdKtP_A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nNlyLwC2snwpKyx_U0wPcdKtP_A/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nNlyLwC2snwpKyx_U0wPcdKtP_A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nNlyLwC2snwpKyx_U0wPcdKtP_A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1921526588298956097/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/did-you-know.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/1921526588298956097?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/1921526588298956097?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/did-you-know.html" title="Did You Know?" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04NSXg6fSp7ImA9WxJQFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-615234847948199425</id><published>2009-05-29T19:19:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:19:58.615-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T19:19:58.615-07:00</app:edited><title>Just For Fun</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding-left:0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/wishes.html"&gt;Wishes &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/ride-em-cowboy.html"&gt;Ride 'em Cowboy &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/09/christian-humor.html"&gt;Christian humor &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/vatican-humor.html"&gt;Vatican humor&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-i-fired-my-secretary.html"&gt;Why I fired my secretary? &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/advance-payment.html"&gt;Advance Payment &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/will-real-bride-please-stand-up.html"&gt;Will the real bride please stand up! &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-is-marketing.html"&gt;"What is Marketing?" &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/05/new-toyota-model.html"&gt;New Toyota model&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/05/bush-visits-england.html"&gt;Bush visits England &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-615234847948199425?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h5XBdkfUM3VbCj1Sld4tyq6644c/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h5XBdkfUM3VbCj1Sld4tyq6644c/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h5XBdkfUM3VbCj1Sld4tyq6644c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h5XBdkfUM3VbCj1Sld4tyq6644c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/615234847948199425/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-for-fun.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/615234847948199425?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/615234847948199425?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-for-fun.html" title="Just For Fun" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MDSH06fCp7ImA9WxJQFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-4925833568329176957</id><published>2009-05-29T19:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:11:19.314-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T19:11:19.314-07:00</app:edited><title>Speech worth reading</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding-left:0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/01/patricias-short-speech-worth-reading.html"&gt;Patricia'S Short Speech Worth Reading.... &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/01/ms-international-winning-answer.html"&gt;Ms. International - Tne Winning Answer &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-4925833568329176957?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/e32JUmMdQYV4-5XSeyIuQkg8ZrY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/e32JUmMdQYV4-5XSeyIuQkg8ZrY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/e32JUmMdQYV4-5XSeyIuQkg8ZrY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/e32JUmMdQYV4-5XSeyIuQkg8ZrY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/4925833568329176957/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/speech-worth-reading.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4925833568329176957?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4925833568329176957?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/speech-worth-reading.html" title="Speech worth reading" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAFQXw4fCp7ImA9WxJQFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-6512965647624673617</id><published>2009-05-29T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T18:58:30.234-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T18:58:30.234-07:00</app:edited><title>Worth Thinking</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding-left:0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/12/discover-9010-principle.html"&gt;Discover 90/10 principle &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/about-having-4-boyfriends.html"&gt;About having 4 boyfriends &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/balance-sheet-of-life.html"&gt;Balance sheet of life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/09/prison-vs-work-rating.html"&gt;Prison vs. Work rating &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-20-dollars-hour.html"&gt;Just a 20 dollars an hour &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/good-news-and-bad-news.html"&gt;Good news and bad news &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/06/7-reasons-why-children-are-adorable.html"&gt;7 reasons why children are adorable!!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/06/married-life-is-full-of-excitement.html"&gt;Married life is full of excitement &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/05/take-following-quiz.html"&gt;Take the following quiz. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/02/think-positive.html"&gt;Think Positive!! &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/02/7-ways-to-improve-your-attitude-at-work.html"&gt;7 Ways to Improve Your Attitude at Work &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/02/quotes-worth-pondering-about.html"&gt;Quotes worth pondering about &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-to-love-your-life.html"&gt;How to Love your Life ..... &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-to-stay-young.html"&gt;How To Stay Young&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-6512965647624673617?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gpSe4-OERaXLSjjkvaX4BU9ZT68/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gpSe4-OERaXLSjjkvaX4BU9ZT68/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gpSe4-OERaXLSjjkvaX4BU9ZT68/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gpSe4-OERaXLSjjkvaX4BU9ZT68/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6512965647624673617/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/worth-thinking.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/6512965647624673617?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/6512965647624673617?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2009/05/worth-thinking.html" title="Worth Thinking" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQGRXY7eip7ImA9WxRaEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-7507296830102033538</id><published>2008-12-13T01:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T02:15:24.802-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-13T02:15:24.802-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Worth thinking" /><title>Discover 90/10 principle</title><content type="html">It will change your life (at least the way you react to situations).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What is this principle? 10% of life is made up of what happens to you. 90% of life is decided by how you react.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What does this mean? We really have no control over 10% of what happens to us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We cannot stop the car form breaking down. The plane will be late arriving, which throws our whole schedule off. A driver may cut us off in traffic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have no control over this 10%. The other 90% is different. You determine the other 90%.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How?..........By your reaction.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You cannot control a red light. But you can control your reaction. Don’t let people fool you; you can control how you react.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let’s use an example.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are eating breakfast with your family. Your daughter knocks a cup of coffee onto your business shirt. You have no control over what just happened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What happens next will be determined by how you react.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You course.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You harshly scold your daughter for knocking the cup over. She breaks down in tears. After scolding her, you turn to your spouse and criticize her for placing the cup too close to the edge of the table. A short verbal battle follows. You storm upstairs and change your shirts. Back downstairs, you fins your daughter has been too busy crying to finish breakfast and get ready for school. She misses the bus.&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Your spouse must leave immediately for work. You rush to the car and rive your daughter to school. Because you are late, you drive 40 miles an hour in a 30 mph speed limit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After a 15-minute delay and throwing $60 traffic fine away, you arrived at school. Your daughter runs into the building without saying goodbye. After arriving at the office 20 minutes late, you find you forgot your briefcase. Your day has started terrible. As it continues, it seems to get worse and worse. You look forward to coming home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When you arrive home, you find small wedge in your relationship with your spouse and daughter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why?.... Because of how you reacted in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why did you have a bad day?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A) Did the coffee cause it?&lt;br /&gt;
B) Did your daughter cause it?&lt;br /&gt;
C) Did the policeman cause it?&lt;br /&gt;
D) Did you cause it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The answer is “D”.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You had no control over what happened with the coffee. How you reacted on those 5 seconds is what caused your bad day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here is what could have and should have happened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Coffee splashes over you. Your daughter is about to cry. You gently say “its ok honey, you need to be more careful next time”. Grabbing a towel you rush upstairs. After grabbing a new shirt and your briefcase, you come back down in time to look through the window and see your child getting on the bus. She turns and waves. You arrive 5 minutes early and cheerfully greet the staff. Your boss comments on how good the day you are having.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Notice the difference?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two different scenarios. Both started the same. Both ended different.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Because of how you REACTED.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You really do not have any control over 10% of what happens. The other 90% was determined by your reaction.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are some ways to apply the 90/10 principle. If someone says something negative about you, don’t be a sponge. Let the attack roll off like water on glass. You don’t have to let the negative comment affect you!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
React properly and it will not ruin your day. A wrong reaction could result in losing a friend, being fired, getting stressed out etc.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How do you react if someone cuts you off in traffic? Do you loose your temper? Pound on the steering wheel? A friend of mine had the steering wheel fall off, do you curse? Does your blood pressure skyrocket? Do you try and bump them?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
WHO CARES if you arrive ten seconds later at work? Why let the cars ruin your drive?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Remember the 90/10 principle, and do not worry about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are told you lost your job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why lose sleep and get irritated? It will work out. Use your worrying energy and time into finding another job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The plane is late; it is going to mangle your schedule for the day. Why take outpour frustrations on the flight attendant? She has no control over what is going on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Use you time to study, get to know the other passenger. Why get stressed out? It will just make thins worse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now you know the 90-10 principle. Apply it and you will be amazed at the results.&lt;br /&gt;
You will lose nothing if you try it. The 90-10 principle is incredible. Very few know and apply this principle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The result?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Millions of people are suffering from underserved stress, trials, problems and heartache. We all must understand and apply the 90/10 principle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It can change your life!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-7507296830102033538?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zlAIknpU5SAHcur3d7rlmFi0k40/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zlAIknpU5SAHcur3d7rlmFi0k40/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zlAIknpU5SAHcur3d7rlmFi0k40/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zlAIknpU5SAHcur3d7rlmFi0k40/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7507296830102033538/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/12/discover-9010-principle.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7507296830102033538?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7507296830102033538?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/12/discover-9010-principle.html" title="Discover 90/10 principle" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08CRnY4cSp7ImA9WhdWEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-8192222460662888723</id><published>2008-12-05T01:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T23:04:27.839-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-02T23:04:27.839-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>A Wonderful Story</title><content type="html">A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beards sitting in her front yard. She did not recognize them. She said "I don't think I know you, but you must be hungry. Please come in and have something to eat.."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Is the man of the house home?", they asked. &lt;br /&gt;
"No", she replied. "He's out."&lt;br /&gt;
Then we cannot come in", they replied.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Go tell them I am home and invite them in!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woman went out and invited the men in"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"We do not go into a House together," they replied.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Why is that?" she asked.&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
One of the old men explained: "His name is Wealth," he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to another one, "He is Success, and I am Love." Then he added, "Now go in and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. "How nice!!", he said. "Since that is the case, let us invite Wealth. Let him come and fill our home with wealth!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His wife disagreed. "My dear, why don't we invite Success?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Their daughter-in-law was listening from the other corner of the house. She jumped in with her own suggestion: "Would it not be better to invite Love? Our home will then be filled with love!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Let us heed our daughter-in-law's advice," said the husband to his wife.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Go out and invite Love to be our guest."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, "Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love got up and started walking toward the house. The other 2 also got up and followed him. Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success: "I only invited Love, Why are you coming in?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The old men replied together: "If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two of us would've stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever He goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!!!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-8192222460662888723?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cKnGvG1SHCGyx524GaWcCeKTArM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cKnGvG1SHCGyx524GaWcCeKTArM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cKnGvG1SHCGyx524GaWcCeKTArM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cKnGvG1SHCGyx524GaWcCeKTArM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/8192222460662888723/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/12/wonderful-story.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/8192222460662888723?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/8192222460662888723?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/12/wonderful-story.html" title="A Wonderful Story" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMMQXo9fSp7ImA9WxJQFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-3559217185739871793</id><published>2008-11-22T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:28:00.465-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T19:28:00.465-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Love</title><content type="html">&lt;i&gt;This was sent to me by a friend and i want to share it to all the readers of this blog, this story touches my heart.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; was walking around in a Target store, when I saw a Cashier hand this little boy some money back.The boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Cashier said, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;'I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll.&lt;/i&gt;'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him: &lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;''Granny,are you sure I don't have enough money?'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The old lady replied: &lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;''You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.''&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then she asked him to stay there for just 5 minutes while she went to look a round. She left quickly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for Christmas.She was sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her.'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But he replied to me sadly. &lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'No, Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there.'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His eyes were so sad while saying this. &lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'My Sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.''&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My heart nearly stopped.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The little boy looked up at me and said: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;'I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall.'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me &lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;'I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me.'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'I love my mommy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister.'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Suppose we check again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?''&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'OK'&lt;/strong&gt; he said, &lt;strong&gt;'I hope I do have enough.'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/i&gt; I added some of my money to his with out him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little boy said: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Thank you God for giving me enough money!'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Then he looked at me and added, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;'I asked last night before I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that mommy could give It to my sister. He heard me!''&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose.''&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;'My mommy loves white roses.'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A few minutes later, the old lady returned and I left with my basket.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then I remembered a local news paper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Was this the family of the little boy?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the news paper that the young woman had passed away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body o f the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wishes before her burial.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed forever.. The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;The value of a man or woman resides in what he or she gives, not in what they are capable of receiving... repost it as a story that touches your heart ....Crispina J. Gahutan "Ping" - Author&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-3559217185739871793?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WiRR-3tGeo2uNoPVMN1h4pV1hls/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WiRR-3tGeo2uNoPVMN1h4pV1hls/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WiRR-3tGeo2uNoPVMN1h4pV1hls/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WiRR-3tGeo2uNoPVMN1h4pV1hls/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/3559217185739871793/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/l-o-v-e.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/3559217185739871793?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/3559217185739871793?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/l-o-v-e.html" title="Love" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIASH87cCp7ImA9WxRVFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-6482254318169450707</id><published>2008-11-14T01:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T01:05:49.108-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-14T01:05:49.108-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Just for fun" /><title>Wishes</title><content type="html">A Woman was out golfing  one day when she hit the ball into&lt;br /&gt;
the woods.  She went into  the woods to look for it and found &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
a frog in a trap.  &lt;br /&gt;
The  frog said to her, 'If you release me from this&lt;br /&gt;
trap, I will grant you  three wishes.'  &lt;br /&gt;
The woman freed the frog, and the frog said,   'Thank&lt;br /&gt;
you, but I failed to mention that there was a condition  to&lt;br /&gt;
your wishes.&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Whatever you wish for, your husband will  get ten times of&lt;br /&gt;
it !' The woman  said, 'That's okay.'   &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
For her first wish, she wanted to be the most   beautiful&lt;br /&gt;
woman in the world.  &lt;br /&gt;
The frog warned her,  'You do realize that this  wish&lt;br /&gt;
will also make your husband the  most handsome man in the&lt;br /&gt;
world, an Adonis  whom women will flock  to'.  &lt;br /&gt;
The woman replied, 'That's okay, because I will  &lt;br /&gt;
be the most beautiful woman and he will have eyes only for&lt;br /&gt;
me.'   &lt;br /&gt;
So, KAZAM-  she's the most beautiful Woman in the &lt;br /&gt;
world!  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
For her second wish, she  wanted to be the  richest woman&lt;br /&gt;
in the world.  &lt;br /&gt;
The frog said, 'That will make   your husband the&lt;br /&gt;
 richest man in the world. And he will be ten  times richer&lt;br /&gt;
 than you. '  &lt;br /&gt;
The woman said, 'That's  okay, because what's&lt;br /&gt;
 mine is his and what's  his is mine.'   &lt;br /&gt;
So, KAZAM- she's the richest woman in the world!   &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
The frog then inquired about her third wish, and she &lt;br /&gt;
answered, 'I'd like to have a  mild heart attack.'  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-6482254318169450707?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6gwKp-4OeImjio1d2p9B7wu22DE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6gwKp-4OeImjio1d2p9B7wu22DE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6gwKp-4OeImjio1d2p9B7wu22DE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6gwKp-4OeImjio1d2p9B7wu22DE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6482254318169450707/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/wishes.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/6482254318169450707?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/6482254318169450707?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/wishes.html" title="Wishes" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YHRH09cSp7ImA9WxRXGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-7621572200990586326</id><published>2008-10-25T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T21:25:35.369-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-25T21:25:35.369-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Worth thinking" /><title>About having 4 boyfriends</title><content type="html">Once upon a time there was this girl who had four boyfriends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She loved the 4th boyfriend the most and adorned him with rich robes and treated him to the finest of delicacies.&lt;br /&gt;
She gave him nothing but the best.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She also loved the 3rd boyfriend very much and was always showing him off to neighboring kingdoms. However, she feared that one day he would leave her for another.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She also loved her 2nd boyfriend. He was her confidant and was always kind, considerate and patient with her. Whenever this girl faced a problem, she could confide in him, and he would help her get through the difficult times.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;The girl's 1st boyfriend was a very loyal partner and had made great contributions in maintaining her wealth and kingdom. However, she did not love the first boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;
Although he loved her deeply, she hardly took notice of him!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One day, the girl fell ill and she knew her time was short. She thought of her luxurious life and wondered, I now have four boyfriends with me, but when I die, I'll be all alone.'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thus, she asked the 4th boyfriend, 'I loved you the most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'No way!', replied the 4th boyfriend, and he walked away without another word .&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His answer cut like a sharp knife right into her heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The sad girl then asked the 3rd boyfriend, 'I loved you all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'No!', replied the 3rd boyfriend. 'Life is too good! When you die, I'm going to marry someone else!'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her heart sank and turned cold.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She then asked the 2nd boyfriend, 'I have always turned to you for help and you've always been there for me. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!', replied the 2nd boyfriend. 'At the very most, I can only walk with you to your grave.'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His answer struck her like a bolt of lightning, and the girl was devastated.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then a voice called out: 'I'll go with you.&lt;br /&gt;
I'll follow you no matter where you go.'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The girl looked up, and there was her first boyfriend. He was very skinny as he suffered from malnutrition and neglect.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Greatly grieved, the girl said, 'I should have taken much better care of you when I had the chance!'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In truth, you have 4 boyfriends in your lives:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Your 4th boyfriend is your body. No matter how much time and effort you lavish in making it look good, it will leave you when you die.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Your 3rd boyfriend is your possessions, status and wealth. When you die, it will all go to others.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Your 2nd boyfriend is your family and friends. No matter how much they have been there for you, the furthest they can stay by you is up to the grave.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And your 1st boyfriend is your Soul. Often neglected in pursuit of wealth, power and pleasures of the world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, your Soul is the only thing that will follow you where ever you go.Cultivate, strengthen and cherish it now, for i t is the only part of you that will follow you to the throne of God and continue with you throughout Eternity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thought for the day: Remember, when the world pushes you to your knees, you're in the perfect position to pray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-7621572200990586326?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8uoqBQYWqSCU0MiAVatWjRw__BU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8uoqBQYWqSCU0MiAVatWjRw__BU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8uoqBQYWqSCU0MiAVatWjRw__BU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8uoqBQYWqSCU0MiAVatWjRw__BU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7621572200990586326/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/about-having-4-boyfriends.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7621572200990586326?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7621572200990586326?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/about-having-4-boyfriends.html" title="About having 4 boyfriends" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4DRXkzfCp7ImA9WxRXFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-1782568614735586620</id><published>2008-10-21T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T21:49:34.784-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-21T21:49:34.784-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>My Attorney</title><content type="html">After living what I felt was a "decent" life, my time on earth came to the end. The first thing I remember is sitting on a bench in the waiting room of what I thought to be a court house. The doors opened and I was instructed to come in and have a seat by the defense table. As I looked around I saw the "prosecutor." He was a villainous looking gent who snarled as he stared at me. He definitely was the most evil person I have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
I sat down and looked to my left and there sat My Attorney, a kind and gentle looking man whose appearance seemed so familiar to me, I felt I knew Him. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The corner door flew open and there appeared the Judge in full flowing robes. He commanded an awesome presence as He moved across the room. I couldn't take my eyes off of Him. As He took His seat behind the bench, He said, "Let us begin." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The prosecutor rose and said, "My name is Satan and I am here to show you why this man belongs in hell." He proceeded to tell of lies that I told, things that I stole, and in the past when I cheated others. Satan told of other horrible perversions that were once in my life and the more he spoke, the further down in my seat I sank. I was so embarrassed that I couldn't look at anyone, even my own Attorney, as the Devil told of sins that even I had completely forgotten about. As upset as I was at Satan for &lt;br /&gt;
telling all these things about me, I was equally upset at My Attorney who sat there silently not offering any form of defense at all. I know I had been guilty of those things, but I had done some good in my life - couldn't that at least equal out part of the harm I'd done? Satan finished with a fury and said, "This man belongs in hell, he is guilty of all that I have charged and there is not a person who can prove otherwise." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When it was His turn, My Attorney first asked if He might approach the bench. The Judge allowed this over the strong objection of Satan, and beckoned Him to come forward. As He got up and started walking, I was able to see Him in His full splendor and majesty. I realized why He seemed so familiar; this was Jesus representing me, my Lord and my Savior. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He stopped at the bench and softly said to the Judge, "Hi, Dad," and then He turned to address the court. "Satan was correct in saying that this man had sinned, I won't deny any of these allegations. And, yes, the wage of sin is death, and this man deserves to be punished." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jesus took a deep breath and turned to His Father with outstretched arms and proclaimed, "However, I died on the cross so that this person might have eternal life and he has accepted Me as his Savior, so he is Mine." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My Lord continued with, "His name is written in the book of life and no one can snatch him from Me. Satan still does not understand yet. This man is not to be given justice, but rather mercy." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As Jesus sat down, He quietly paused, looked at His Father and said, "There is nothing else that needs to be done. I've done it all." &lt;br /&gt;
The Judge lifted His mighty hand and slammed the gavel down. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The following words bellowed from His lips... "This man is free. The penalty for him has already been paid in full. Case dismissed."&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
As my Lord led me away, I could hear Satan ranting and having, "I won't &lt;br /&gt;
give up, I will win the next one." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I asked Jesus as He gave me my instructions where to go next, Have you ever lost a case?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Christ lovingly smiled and said, "Everyone that has come to Me and asked Me to represent them has received the same verdict as you, Paid in Full."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-1782568614735586620?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ev2Ucyeb2VmF59ptHJpz0rTFXO8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ev2Ucyeb2VmF59ptHJpz0rTFXO8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ev2Ucyeb2VmF59ptHJpz0rTFXO8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ev2Ucyeb2VmF59ptHJpz0rTFXO8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1782568614735586620/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-attorney.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/1782568614735586620?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/1782568614735586620?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-attorney.html" title="My Attorney" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcESX49eip7ImA9WxRXFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-1729109421750443819</id><published>2008-10-21T02:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T02:56:48.062-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-21T02:56:48.062-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Just for fun" /><title>Ride 'em Cowboy</title><content type="html">A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife. She was a very good-looking woman and was determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the other was a drunk. She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a lot about ranching.  For weeks, the two of them worked and the ranch was doing very well. Then one day the rancher's widow said to the hired hand, 'You have done a really good job and the ranch looks great. You should go into town and kick up your heels.'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The hired hand readily agreed and went into town one Saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One o'clock came however, and he didn't return. Two o'clock and no hired hand. Finally he returned around two-thirty and upon entering the room he found the rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, waiting for him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She quietly called him over to her. 'Unbutton my blouse and take it off' she said. Trembling, he did as she directed. 'Now take off my boots.' He did as she asked ever so slowly. 'Now take off my socks.' He removed each gently and placed them nearly by her boots.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'Now take off my skirt.' He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in the firelight. 'Now take off my bra.' Again, with trembling hands he did as he was told and dropped it to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then she looked at him and said, 'If you ever wear my clothes into town again, you're fired.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-1729109421750443819?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/59_KYF_3vInkDlxucH4yvLizlSw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/59_KYF_3vInkDlxucH4yvLizlSw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/59_KYF_3vInkDlxucH4yvLizlSw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/59_KYF_3vInkDlxucH4yvLizlSw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1729109421750443819/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/ride-em-cowboy.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/1729109421750443819?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/1729109421750443819?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/ride-em-cowboy.html" title="Ride 'em Cowboy" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8FRHo9cSp7ImA9WxRXEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-559285686654749802</id><published>2008-10-16T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T20:40:15.469-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-16T20:40:15.469-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Did You know?" /><title>Breathing Therapy</title><content type="html">The nose has a left and a right side, we use both to inhale and exhale..&lt;br /&gt;
Actually they are different you would be able to feel the difference.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The right side represents the sun, left side represents the moon. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
During a headache, try to close your right nose and use your left nose to breathe. &lt;br /&gt;
In about 5 mins, your headache will be gone. If you feel tired, just reverse, close your left nose and breathe through your right nose. &lt;br /&gt;
After a while, you will feel your mind is re-freshening. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Right side belongs to 'hot', so it gets heated up easily, left side belongs to 'cold'. &lt;br /&gt;
Most females breathe with their left noses, so they get 'cooled off' faster. &lt;br /&gt;
Most of the guys breathe with their right noses, they get worked up. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do you notice the moment we wake up, which side breathes faster? Is it left or right side? If you breathe faster in left side, you will feel tired. &lt;br /&gt;
So, close your left nose and use your right nose for breathing, you will get refreshed quickly. &lt;br /&gt;
This can be taught to kids, but it is more effective when practiced by adults. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I used to have bad headaches and was always visiting the doctor. &lt;br /&gt;
There was this period when I suffered headache literally every night, and unable to study. I took painkillers, did not work. &lt;br /&gt;
I decided to try out the breathing therapy here: closed my right nose and breathed through my left nose. &lt;br /&gt;
In less than a week, my headaches were gone! I continue the exercise for one month.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This alternative natural therapy without medication is something that I have experienced. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, why not give it a try? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-559285686654749802?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O_b9XkHxYi6u-a2WIqrR7Y7Ne_M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O_b9XkHxYi6u-a2WIqrR7Y7Ne_M/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O_b9XkHxYi6u-a2WIqrR7Y7Ne_M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O_b9XkHxYi6u-a2WIqrR7Y7Ne_M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/559285686654749802/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/breathing-therapy.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/559285686654749802?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/559285686654749802?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/breathing-therapy.html" title="Breathing Therapy" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMCSH86cSp7ImA9WxRXEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-8322977899076250263</id><published>2008-10-15T21:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T22:21:09.119-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-15T22:21:09.119-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Worth thinking" /><title>Balance sheet of life</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iVNieSWmnso/SPbOtWGrEpI/AAAAAAAABs8/iTMLOyA44yU/s1600-h/Life.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iVNieSWmnso/SPbOtWGrEpI/AAAAAAAABs8/4xKQfb0qml0/s400-R/Life.JPG" xd="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Our Birth is our Opening Balance, Our Death is our Closing Balance! &lt;br /&gt;
Our Prejudiced Views are our Liabilities, Our Creative Ideas are our Assets. &lt;br /&gt;
Heart is our Current Asset, Soul is our Fixed Asset. &lt;br /&gt;
Brain is our Fixed Deposit, Thinking is our Current Account. &lt;br /&gt;
Achievements are our Capital, Character &amp;amp; Morals, our Stock-in-Trade. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Friends are our General Reserves, Values &amp;amp; Behaviour are our Goodwill.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love is our Dividend, Children are our Bonus Issues.&lt;br /&gt;
Education is Brands / Patents, Knowledge is our Investment. &lt;br /&gt;
Experience is our Premium Account.&lt;br /&gt;
The Aim is to Tally the Balance Sheet Accurately. &lt;br /&gt;
The Goal is to get the Best Presented Accounts Award. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some very Good and Very bad things &lt;br /&gt;
The most destructive habit................Worry &lt;br /&gt;
The greatest Joy..........................Giving &lt;br /&gt;
The greatest loss.........................Loss of self-respect &lt;br /&gt;
The most satisfying work...................Helping others &lt;br /&gt;
The ugliest personality trait..............Selfishness &lt;br /&gt;
The most endangered species................Dedicated leaders &lt;br /&gt;
Our greatest natural resource..............Our youth &lt;br /&gt;
The greatest 'shot in the arm'............Encouragement &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The greatest problem to overcome…..........Fear &lt;br /&gt;
The most effective sleeping pill...........Peace of mind &lt;br /&gt;
The most crippling failure disease.........Excuses &lt;br /&gt;
The most powerful force in life... ........Love &lt;br /&gt;
The most dangerous pariah..................A gossiper &lt;br /&gt;
The world's most incredible computer.......The brain &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The worst thing to be without..............Hope &lt;br /&gt;
The deadliest weapon.......................The tongue &lt;br /&gt;
The two most power-filled words............'I Can' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The greatest asset.........................Faith &lt;br /&gt;
The most worthless emotion.................Self-pity &lt;br /&gt;
The most beautiful attire..................SMILE! &lt;br /&gt;
The most prized possession.................Integrity &lt;br /&gt;
The most powerful channel of communication.....Prayer &lt;br /&gt;
The most contagious spirit.................Enthusiasm &lt;br /&gt;
The most important thing in life...........GOD THE ALMIGHTY. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Chinese Proverb: (In English) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"When someone shares something of value with you and you benefit from&lt;br /&gt;
it, you have a moral obligation to share it with others". &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-8322977899076250263?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2Dn7-Lk2BNEzI3iPicCvGWzP7Xo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2Dn7-Lk2BNEzI3iPicCvGWzP7Xo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2Dn7-Lk2BNEzI3iPicCvGWzP7Xo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2Dn7-Lk2BNEzI3iPicCvGWzP7Xo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/8322977899076250263/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/balance-sheet-of-life.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/8322977899076250263?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/8322977899076250263?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/balance-sheet-of-life.html" title="Balance sheet of life" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iVNieSWmnso/SPbOtWGrEpI/AAAAAAAABs8/4xKQfb0qml0/s72-Rc/Life.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYASX08cSp7ImA9WxRXEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-4782402157135986760</id><published>2008-10-09T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T17:22:28.379-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-14T17:22:28.379-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Two Choices</title><content type="html">What would you do? You make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: 'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child. Then he told the following story:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?" Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
' Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat . Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!' Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!' Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball ... the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman' s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay,Shay, all the Way Shay!!' Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!' As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!' Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team. 'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-4782402157135986760?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iNgY5HRlzDB7B0dQq08gxiEWaA8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iNgY5HRlzDB7B0dQq08gxiEWaA8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iNgY5HRlzDB7B0dQq08gxiEWaA8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iNgY5HRlzDB7B0dQq08gxiEWaA8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/4782402157135986760/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/two-choices.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4782402157135986760?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4782402157135986760?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/two-choices.html" title="Two Choices" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04DRHk9cCp7ImA9WxJQFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-7094268537413694413</id><published>2008-10-03T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:52:55.768-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T19:52:55.768-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>An Story That Can Touch Your Heart</title><content type="html">&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" The moment you found someone who makes your heart beat, STOP the search and take the risk.. remember the world is a big place that if you lost the one you LOVE, you have to search the world again.."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Somewhere in Milaor, Camarines Sur, there lived a fourth rgader boy who would follow this route to school everyday:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He has to cross the rugged plains and cross the dangerous highway where vehicles are recklessly driving to and from.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Once past this highway, the boy would take a short cut, passing by the Church every morning just to say "Hi" to God, and faithfully say his, "Magandang umaga po(Good Morning)" in Bicol dialect. He was faithfully being watched by a Priest who was happy to find innocence so uplifting in the morning,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Kamusta, Andoy? Papasok ka na?" (How are you Andoy? are you going to school?)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Opo padre ... (Yes Father)"he would flash his innocent grin, &amp;nbsp;the priest would be touched. He was so concerned that one day he talked to Andoy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"From school...", he advised "Do not cross the highway, you can pass through the Church and I can accompany you to the other side of the road...that way I&amp;nbsp; can see that you are home safe...."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Thank you father ... "&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Why don't you go home ... why do you stay in this church right after school?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I just want to say 'Hi' to my friend,God," and the priest would leave the boy to spend time beside the altar, talking to himself, but the priest was hiding behind the altar to listen to what this boy has to say to his heavenly FATHER. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
"You know my math exam was pretty bad today, but I did not cheat although my seatmate is bullying me for notes... I ate one cracker and drank my water, Itay had a bad season and all I can eat is this cracker. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you for this! I saw a poor kitten who was hungry and I know how he feels so I gave my last cracker to him ...funny but I am not that hungry. Look, this is my last pair of slippers ...I may have to walk barefoot next week, you see this is about to be broken... but it is okay....at least I am still going to school.... Some say we will have a hard season this month, some of my classmates have already stopped going to school .... please help them get to school again, please God? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
...Oh, you know, Inay hit me again, it is painful, but I know this pain will pass away, at least I still have a mother.... God, you want to see my bruises? I know you can heal them.... Here... here and .... oh ...blood ...I guess you knew about this one huh? Please don't be mad at Inay, she is just tired and she worries for the food in our table and my schooling that is why she hits us....Oh, I think I am in love ... there's this pretty girl in my class, her name is Anita ... do you think she will like me? &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, at least I know you will always like me, I don't have to be anybody just to please you, you are my very best friend! Hey your birthday is two days from now!!! Aren't you excited? I am! Wait till you see, I have a gift for you..... but it is a surprise! I hope you will like it! Oooops, I have to go ..." then he stood up and calls out, &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Padre, padre, I am finished talking to my friend....youcan accompany me to the other side of the road now"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This routine happens everyday. Andoy never fails. Father Agaton shares this every Sunday to the people in his church because he has not seen a very pure faith and trust in God, a very positive look at negative situations. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One Christmas day, Father Agaton was sick so he could not make it in the Church, he was sent to the hospital. The Church was left to 4 manangs who would chant the rosary in 1000 miles per hour, would not smile and would always find fault in what you do, they were also very well versed in cursing if you irritate them! They were kneeling, saying their kilometric rosary when Andoy, coming from his Christmas party,playfully dashed in. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Hello God! I ......" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P----!! (a curse) bata ka!! Alam mo nang may nagdadasal!! Alis!!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Poor Andoy was so terrified, "Where's Father Agaton? He is supposed to help me cross the street ... and &lt;br /&gt;
to be able to cross the street I will have to pass by the back door of this church ...not only that, I have to greet Jesus. It is His birthday, I have a gift right here....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
" Just as he was about to get the gift out of his shirt, the manang pulled his shirt and threw him out of the &lt;br /&gt;
church. "Susmaryosep!!! (does the sign of the cross fervently) Alis kang bata ka, kung hindi matatamaan ka!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So the boy had no choice but to cross the dangerous side of the road in front of the church. He crossed. A fast moving bus came in. There was a blind curve. The boy was protecting his gift inside his shirt, so he was not looking. There was so little time. Andoy died on the spot. A lot of people crowded the poor boy, the body of a lifeless young boy...&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, out of nowhere a tall man in a pure white shirt and pants, a face so mild and gentle, but with eyes full of tears... He came and carried the boy in His arms. He was crying. Curious bystanders nudged the man in white, and asked, "Excuse me sir, are you related to this child? Do you know this child?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The man in white, His face mourning and in agony, looked up and answered, &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He was my best friend .... " was all he said. He took the badly wrapped gift in the bloody chest of the lifeless boy, and placed it near His heart. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He stood up and carried the boy away and they both&amp;nbsp;disappeared in sight. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The crowd was curious ...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On Christmas Eve, Father Agaton learned of the shocking news. He visited the house, and wanted to verify about the man in white. He consulted the parents of Andoy. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"How did you know that your son died?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A man in white brought him here." sobbed the mother. "What did he say?" The father answered, "He did not say anything. He was mourning. We do not know him and yet he was very lonely about our son's death, as if he knew our son very well. But there was something peaceful and unexplainable about him He gave me my son, and then he smiled peacefully. He brushed my son's hair away from his face and kissed him on his &lt;br /&gt;
forehead, then he whispered something..."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"What did he say?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"He said to my boy..." the father began, &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Thank you for the gift... I will see you soon ... you will be with me..." and the father of the boy continued, "and you know for a while, it felt so wonderful ... I cried, but I do not know why....all I know is I cried tears of joy .... I could not explain it, Father, but when that man left, something peaceful came over me, I felt&lt;br /&gt;
a deep sense of love inside ... I could not explain the joy in my heart, I knew my boy is in heaven now but...tell me, Father, who is this man that my son talks to everyday in your church, you should know because you are always there... except at the time of his death ......"Father Agaton suddenly felt the tears welling in his eyes, with trembling knees, he murmurred, " ... He was talking to no one ..... but .. GOD...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-7094268537413694413?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/soaN47JALgOz-aNwWibtIXc0eGQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/soaN47JALgOz-aNwWibtIXc0eGQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/soaN47JALgOz-aNwWibtIXc0eGQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/soaN47JALgOz-aNwWibtIXc0eGQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7094268537413694413/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/story-that-can-touch-your-heart.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7094268537413694413?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/7094268537413694413?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/10/story-that-can-touch-your-heart.html" title="An Story That Can Touch Your Heart" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYMSX86fCp7ImA9WxRXEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-3819233131775701411</id><published>2008-09-13T00:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T17:23:08.114-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-14T17:23:08.114-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Worth thinking" /><title>Prison vs. Work rating</title><content type="html">&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you spend the majority of your time in an 8X10 cell. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At&amp;nbsp;work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you spend most of your time in a 6X8 cubicle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you get three meals a day (free). &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you only get a break for one meal and you have to pay for it yourself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;you get time off for good behavior.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you get rewarded for good behavior with more WORK.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;a guard locks and unlocks the doors for you. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you must carry around a security card and unlock open all the doors yourself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you can watch TV and play games. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you get fired for watching TV and playing games.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you get your own toilet. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you have to share.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;they allow your family and friends to visit. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you can not even speak to your family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;all expenses are paid by taxpayers with no work at all. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you get to pay all the expenses to go to work and then they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for the prisoners.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In prison...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you spend most of your life looking through the bars from the inside wanting to get out. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;At work...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside bars.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Humm?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Which Sounds Better?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-3819233131775701411?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r5rfnW4Lrk_UCJZeDrvYU70SSEU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r5rfnW4Lrk_UCJZeDrvYU70SSEU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r5rfnW4Lrk_UCJZeDrvYU70SSEU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r5rfnW4Lrk_UCJZeDrvYU70SSEU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/3819233131775701411/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/09/prison-vs-work-rating.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/3819233131775701411?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/3819233131775701411?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/09/prison-vs-work-rating.html" title="Prison vs. Work rating" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08ERHc9cSp7ImA9WxJQFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-445254328682999190</id><published>2008-09-06T01:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:50:05.969-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T19:50:05.969-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Just for fun" /><title>Christian Humor</title><content type="html">&lt;strong&gt;Lead us not to temptation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A minister parked his car in a no-parking zone in a large city because he was short of time and couldn't find a space with a meter. Then he put a note under the windshield wiper that read: "I have circled the block 10 times. If I don't park here, I'll miss my appointment. Forgive us our trespasses."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When he returned, he found a citation from a police officer along with this note "I've circled this block for 10 years. If I don't give you a ticket I'll lose my job. Lead us not into temptation."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Good news and bad news&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is the story of a pastor who got up one Sunday and announced to his congregation: "I have good news and bad news. The good news is, we have enough money to pay for our new building program. The bad news is, it's still out there in your pockets."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The BIBLE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A father was approached by his small son who told him proudly, "I know what the Bible means!" His father smiled and replied, "What do you mean, you 'know' what the Bible means?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The son replied, "I do know!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Okay," said his father. "What does the Bible mean?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"That's easy, Daddy." the young boy replied excitedly, "It stands for 'Basic Information Before Leaving Earth."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;The Star Spangled Banner&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The minister was preoccupied with thoughts of how he was going to ask the congregation to come up with more money than they were expecting for repairs to the church building.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Therefore, he was annoyed to find that the regular organist was sick and a substitute had been brought in at the last minute. The substitute wanted to know what to play.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Here's a copy of the service," he said impatiently. "But, you'll have to think of something to play after I make the announcement about the finances."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
During the service, the minister paused and said, "Brothers and Sisters, we are in great difficulty; the roof repairs cost twice as much as we expected and we need $4,000 more. Any of you who can pledge $100 or more, please stand up."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At that moment, the substitute organist played "The Star Spangled Banner."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And that is how the substitute became the regular organist!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-445254328682999190?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_YjDDr-jp80VPuSVu6q2UiuxnOQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_YjDDr-jp80VPuSVu6q2UiuxnOQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_YjDDr-jp80VPuSVu6q2UiuxnOQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_YjDDr-jp80VPuSVu6q2UiuxnOQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/445254328682999190/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/09/christian-humor.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/445254328682999190?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/445254328682999190?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/09/christian-humor.html" title="Christian Humor" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcER3c_cSp7ImA9WxJQFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-4186471427469624955</id><published>2008-08-20T01:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:53:26.949-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-29T19:53:26.949-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>$20 Considerable Message I Want To Share With You....</title><content type="html">&lt;b&gt;Sometimes we just need to be reminded! &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, 'Who would like this $20 bill?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hands started going up. &lt;br /&gt;
He said, 'I am going to give this $20 to one of you, but first, let me do this. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He then asked, 'Who still wants it?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Still the hands were up in the air. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, he replied, 'What if I do this?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'Now, who still wants it?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Still the hands went into the air. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was still worth $20. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We feel as though we are worthless. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But no matter what has happened or &lt;br /&gt;
what will happen, you will never lose your value. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who DO LOVE you. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, &lt;br /&gt;
but by WHO WE ARE and WHOSE WE ARE. &lt;br /&gt;
You are special don’t EVER forget it.' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you do not pass this on, you may never know the lives it touches, the hurting hearts it speaks to, or the hope that it can bring. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Count your blessings, not your problems. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'And remember: amateurs built the ark ... &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
professionals built the Titanic. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-4186471427469624955?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GgpxHOpI5Zr1CwItTjZottTVnU4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GgpxHOpI5Zr1CwItTjZottTVnU4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GgpxHOpI5Zr1CwItTjZottTVnU4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GgpxHOpI5Zr1CwItTjZottTVnU4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/4186471427469624955/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/20-considerable-message-i-want-to-share.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4186471427469624955?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/4186471427469624955?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/20-considerable-message-i-want-to-share.html" title="$20 Considerable Message I Want To Share With You...." /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8ARXk7fyp7ImA9WxdUEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4848291119387781689.post-6682091926267685596</id><published>2008-07-28T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T08:10:44.707-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-28T08:10:44.707-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short story" /><title>Enteresting conversation</title><content type="html">An Atheist Professor of Philosophy speaks to his Class on the Problem Science has with GOD, the ALMIGHTY. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He asks one of his New Christian Students to stand and . . . &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; You are a Christian, aren't you, son ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes, sir. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; So you Believe in GOD ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Absolutely, sir. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Is GOD Good ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Sure. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Is GOD ALL - POWERFUL ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; My Brother died of Cancer even though he Prayed to GOD to Heal him. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Most of us would attempt to help others who are ill. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But GOD didn't. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How is this GOD good then? Hmm? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
( Student is silent ) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; You can't answer, can you ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let's start again, Young Fella. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Is GOD Good? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Is Satan good ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; No. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Where does Satan come from ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; From . . . GOD .. . . &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; That's right. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me son, is there evil in this World? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Evil is everywhere, isn't it ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And GOD did make everything. Correct? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; So who created evil ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Student does not answer) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Is there Sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All these terrible things exist in the World, don't they?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes, sir. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; So, who Created them ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
( Student has no answer ) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Science says you have 5 Senses you use to Identify and Observe the World around you. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tell me, son . . . Have you ever Seen GOD?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; No, sir. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Tell us if you have ever Heard your GOD? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; No , sir. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Have you ever Felt your GOD, Tasted your GOD, Smelt your GOD? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever had any Sensory Perception of GOD for that matter?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; No, sir. I'm afraid I haven't. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Yet you still Believe in HIM? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; According to Empirical, Testable, Demonstrable Protocol, Science says your GOD doesn't exist. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What do you say to that, son?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Nothing. I only have my Faith. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes, Faith. And that is the Problem Science has. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Professor, is there such a thing as Heat? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes.. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; And is there such a thing as Cold? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; No sir. There isn't. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
( The Lecture Theatre becomes very quiet with this turn of events ) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Sir, you can have Lots of Heat, even More Heat, Superheat, Mega Heat, &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
White Heat, a Little Heat or No Heat... &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But we don't have anything called Cold. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We can hit 458 Degrees below Zero which is No Heat, but we can't go any further after that. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is no such thing as Cold. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cold is only a Word we use to describe the Absence of Heat. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We cannot Measure Cold. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Heat is Energy. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cold is Not the Opposite of Heat, sir, just the Absence of it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
( There is Pin - Drop Silence in the Lecture Theatre ) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; What about Darkness, Professor? Is there such a thing as Darkness? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. What is Night if there isn't Darkness? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; You're wrong again, sir. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Darkness is the Absence of Something .You can have Low Light, Normal Light, Bright Light, &lt;br /&gt;
Flashing Light . . . &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But if you have No Light constantly, you have nothing and its called &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Darkness, isn't it? In reality, Darkness isn't. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If it is, were you would be able to make Darkness Darker, wouldn't you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; So what is the point you are making, Young Man ? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Sir, my point is your Philosophical Premise is flawed. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; Flawed ? Can you explain how? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Sir, you are working on the Premise of Duality. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You argue there is Life and then there is Death, a Good GOD and a Bad GOD. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are viewing the Concept of GOD as something finite, something we can measure. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sir, Science can't even explain a Thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It uses Electricity and Magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To view Death as the Opposite of Life is to be ignorant of the fact that &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Death cannot exist as a Substantive Thing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Death is Not the Opposite of Life: just the Absence of it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now tell me, Professor, do you teach your Students that they evolved from a Monkey?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; If you are referring to the Natural Evolutionary Process, yes, of course, I do. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Have you ever observed Evolution with your own eyes, sir? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
( The Professor shakes his head with a Smile, beginning to realize where the Argument is going ) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Since no one has ever observed the Process of Evolution at work and Cannot even prove that this Process is an On - Going Endeavor, Are you not teaching your Opinion, sir? Are you not a Scientist but a Preacher? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
( The Class is in Uproar ) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Is there anyone in the Class who has ever seen the Professor's Brain? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
( The Class breaks out into Laughter ) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; Is there anyone here who has ever heard the Professor's Brain, Felt it, touched or Smelt it? . . . &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No one appears to have done so. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, according to the Established Rules of Empirical, Stable, Demonstrable Protocol, Science says that you have No Brain, sir. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With all due respect, sir, how do we then Trust your Lectures, sir? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(The Room is Silent. The Professor stares at the Student, his face unfathomable. ) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Professor :&lt;/strong&gt; I guess you'll have to take them on Faith, son. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Student :&lt;/strong&gt; That is it sir . . . &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Link between Man &amp;amp; GOD is FAITH. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That is all that Keeps Things Moving &amp;amp; Alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4848291119387781689-6682091926267685596?l=myemailinbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/llDoB82ldTRawKLKlhtMWMmf9bs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/llDoB82ldTRawKLKlhtMWMmf9bs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/llDoB82ldTRawKLKlhtMWMmf9bs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/llDoB82ldTRawKLKlhtMWMmf9bs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6682091926267685596/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/enteresting-conversation.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/6682091926267685596?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4848291119387781689/posts/default/6682091926267685596?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://myemailinbox.blogspot.com/2008/07/enteresting-conversation.html" title="Enteresting conversation" /><author><name>A2V</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="30" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_iVNieSWmnso/RzJeiEaIFnI/AAAAAAAAAWM/UjXGaz5hwM4/s200/my+avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>

