Tag Archives: heart

-- Author Unknown

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

-- By Kathy Anne Harris

It was blistering hot even though the sun had set two hours earlier.

Prone on the ground, Seth crawled through dry grass and dusty earth. Soil and weeds clung to his clothing. Gnats and mosquitos clamored on skin that the dirt and leaves left exposed.

In his eyes was reflected the hot glare from exploding mortar shells--and the haunting glow of flares as they blossomed in the canopy of night. Heat from the fires singed his lungs and fanned crisply on his flesh.

Yet there was another fire that blazed bright. And even his fellow soldiers couldn't see that deeply into his mind and heart--to the flame of fear.

-- A TRUE STORY by Jo Ann Smotrys

This is a TRUE STORY -- Author Unknown

One day, a poor boy, who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so she brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, How much do I owe you? "You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness."

Years ago, near Athens, Georgia, a woman was killed in an automobile accident. She was very well liked. The school where she worked shut down for her funeral and, on the day the teachers came back to work, they found this poem in their email that the deceased woman sent on Friday before she left school.

-----

By David M. Romano - Copyright, December 1993

When tomorrow starts without me,
And I'm not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me;

By Robert Peterson

She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea. "Hello," she said.

I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child. "I'm building," she said.

"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.