My first option as a voter was Mr Truman. I never regretted it as I
have all others since.I have spoken with him twice and had the opportunity
to shake his hand once.. The experience, both times was as it might be when
you and I meet. I consider that he , probably, saved my life and 100's of
thousands others by ordering the dropping of the A bombs on Japan to end WW
11.I remember him as presidential patriot and not a democrat of the present
day variety.Ol "Giv em hell Harry was m ykinda guy.
Jack Plymale
Sam
I was just reading your blog and saw that you posted this. I was going to make a comment but I still don't know how. I was just going to say that I agree with your brother that Harry was a great president. He was such a humble man and very honest. I wish we had more honest people running our government . I am afraid greed will ruin this great Nation of ours if it alread hasn't.
Pat
HowPat is to click on Comments and proceed. Sam
My brother George is right. Harry was the last great Democrat- President or whatever. Thanks Pat! I hope my comment doesn't personally hurt you.
Sam
Subject:Harry Truman
A humble man who entered the limelight, took care of business,
then returned to being what he was; a humble man.
Harry Truman was a different kind of President. He probably made as
many important decisions regarding our nation's history as any of the other
42 Presidents. However, a measure of his greatness may rest on what he did
after he left the White House.
The only asset he had when he died was the house he lived in, which was in
Independence , Missouri . His wife had inherited the house from her mother
and other than their years in the White House, they lived their entire lives there.
When he retired from office in 1952, his income was a U.S. Army pension
reported to have been $13,507.72 a year. Congress, noting that he was
paying for his stamps and personally licking them, granted him an 'allowance'
and, later, a retroactive pension of $25,000 per year.
After President Eisenhower was inaugurated, Harry and Bess drove home to
Missouri by themselves. There was no Secret Service following them.
When offered corporate positions at large salaries, he declined, stating,
"You don't want me. You want the office of the President, and
that doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the American people and it's not for
sale."
Even later, on May 6, 1971, when Congress was preparing to award him the
Medal of Honor on his 87th birthday, he refused to accept it, writing,
"I don't consider that I have done anything which should be the reason for any
award, Congressional or otherwise."
As president he paid for all of his own travel expenses and food.
Modern politicians have found a new level of success in cashing in on the
Presidency, resulting in untold wealth. Today, many in Congress also have
found a way to become quite wealthy while enjoying the fruits of their
offices. Political offices are now for sale.
Good old Harry Truman was correct when he observed, "My choices in
life were either to be a piano player in a whore house or a politician. And to tell the truth, there's hardly any difference."
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
John Updike Dies at 76-KSR 1-28-09 His basketball poem
This sounds like Highland school yard in Portsmouth. I wasn't quite the player Flick was.
Ex-Basketball Player
by John Updike
Pearl Avenue runs past the high-school lot,
Bends with the trolley tracks, and stops, cut off
Before it has a chance to go two blocks,
At Colonel McComsky Plaza. Berth’s Garage
Is on the corner facing west, and there,
Most days, you'll find Flick Webb, who helps Berth out.
Flick stands tall among the idiot pumps—
Five on a side, the old bubble-head style,
Their rubber elbows hanging loose and low.
One’s nostrils are two S’s, and his eyes
An E and O. And one is squat, without
A head at all—more of a football type.
Once Flick played for the high-school team, the Wizards.
He was good: in fact, the best. In ’46
He bucketed three hundred ninety points,
A county record still. The ball loved Flick.
I saw him rack up thirty-eight or forty
In one home game. His hands were like wild birds.
He never learned a trade, he just sells gas,
Checks oil, and changes flats. Once in a while,
As a gag, he dribbles an inner tube,
But most of us remember anyway.
His hands are fine and nervous on the lug wrench.
It makes no difference to the lug wrench, though.
Off work, he hangs around Mae’s Luncheonette.
Grease-gray and kind of coiled, he plays pinball,
Smokes those thin cigars, nurses lemon phosphates.
Flick seldom says a word to Mae, just nods
Beyond her face toward bright applauding tiers
Of Necco Wafers, Nibs, and Juju Beads.
John Updike, “Ex-Basketball Player” from Collected Poems 1953-1993. Copyright © 1993 by John Updike. Reprinted with the permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc.
Source: Collected Poems, 1953-1993 (1993).
An acclaimed and award-winning writer of fiction, essays, and reviews, John Updike has also been writing poetry for most of...
More >>
Ex-Basketball Player
by John Updike
Pearl Avenue runs past the high-school lot,
Bends with the trolley tracks, and stops, cut off
Before it has a chance to go two blocks,
At Colonel McComsky Plaza. Berth’s Garage
Is on the corner facing west, and there,
Most days, you'll find Flick Webb, who helps Berth out.
Flick stands tall among the idiot pumps—
Five on a side, the old bubble-head style,
Their rubber elbows hanging loose and low.
One’s nostrils are two S’s, and his eyes
An E and O. And one is squat, without
A head at all—more of a football type.
Once Flick played for the high-school team, the Wizards.
He was good: in fact, the best. In ’46
He bucketed three hundred ninety points,
A county record still. The ball loved Flick.
I saw him rack up thirty-eight or forty
In one home game. His hands were like wild birds.
He never learned a trade, he just sells gas,
Checks oil, and changes flats. Once in a while,
As a gag, he dribbles an inner tube,
But most of us remember anyway.
His hands are fine and nervous on the lug wrench.
It makes no difference to the lug wrench, though.
Off work, he hangs around Mae’s Luncheonette.
Grease-gray and kind of coiled, he plays pinball,
Smokes those thin cigars, nurses lemon phosphates.
Flick seldom says a word to Mae, just nods
Beyond her face toward bright applauding tiers
Of Necco Wafers, Nibs, and Juju Beads.
John Updike, “Ex-Basketball Player” from Collected Poems 1953-1993. Copyright © 1993 by John Updike. Reprinted with the permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc.
Source: Collected Poems, 1953-1993 (1993).
An acclaimed and award-winning writer of fiction, essays, and reviews, John Updike has also been writing poetry for most of...
More >>
The 1955 Trojan Alumni Prints- Feb 2009
I enjoy being thought of as a writer, particularly as I have interviewed and written about athletes and people from the Cultural Center of OUR Universe- Portsmouth, OH.
Much of the time I spent growing up during the Depression and WWII years in P'Town, I felt myself to be the proverbial "urchin". I was of the Mound Park variety of Urchin- a poor, mischievous kid from the city. It was once deserving of being called a city and I don't want to demean any of the fine citizens there now who still contribute to the good culture which remains.
Frank Hunter, Blaine Bierley, Gene Lucas, and their benefactor, Tom DuPuy- do our city proud as they report events in "The 1955 Trojan Alumni Prints", a tabloid which has been a welcome monthly addition in our household here in Westerville, OH.
These people have added so much to our culture.
The 1955 class included my brother, George, and there weren't many PHS classes which didn't have one of my siblings, normally every other year. There were nine kids to Forest and Mary Kegley on McConnell Ave, as well as my half-brother, Ted Dunham.
If you don't subscribe to the "Prints", please avail yourself of a wonderful bargain in reading by sending $7 to Gene Lucas at 1419 Second Street, Portsmouth, OH 45663. You can send info for the paper to Frank Hunter, 450 bonifay Ave., Orlando, FL 32825.
This is a non-solicited commercial.
Much of the time I spent growing up during the Depression and WWII years in P'Town, I felt myself to be the proverbial "urchin". I was of the Mound Park variety of Urchin- a poor, mischievous kid from the city. It was once deserving of being called a city and I don't want to demean any of the fine citizens there now who still contribute to the good culture which remains.
Frank Hunter, Blaine Bierley, Gene Lucas, and their benefactor, Tom DuPuy- do our city proud as they report events in "The 1955 Trojan Alumni Prints", a tabloid which has been a welcome monthly addition in our household here in Westerville, OH.
These people have added so much to our culture.
The 1955 class included my brother, George, and there weren't many PHS classes which didn't have one of my siblings, normally every other year. There were nine kids to Forest and Mary Kegley on McConnell Ave, as well as my half-brother, Ted Dunham.
If you don't subscribe to the "Prints", please avail yourself of a wonderful bargain in reading by sending $7 to Gene Lucas at 1419 Second Street, Portsmouth, OH 45663. You can send info for the paper to Frank Hunter, 450 bonifay Ave., Orlando, FL 32825.
This is a non-solicited commercial.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Why we forward Jokes- Tom & Carolyn Lynch
A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery,
when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the
road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a
tall arch that glowed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it he saw a
magnificent gate in the arch that
looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like
pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a
man at a desk to one side.
When he was close enough, he called out, 'Excuse me, where are we?'
'This is Heaven, sir,' the man answered.
'Wow! Would you happen to have some water?' the man asked.
'Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought
right up.'
The man gestured, and the gate began to open.
'Can my friend,' gesturing toward his dog, 'come in, too?' the
traveler asked.
'I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets.'
The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the
way he had been going with his dog.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt
road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed.
There was no fence.
As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and
reading a book.
'Excuse me!' he called to the man. 'Do you have any water?'
'Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in.'
'How about my friend here?' the traveler gestured to the dog.
'There should be a bowl by the pump.'
They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand
pump with a bowl beside it.
The traveler filled the water bowl and20took a long drink himself, then he gave
some to the dog.
When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing
by the tree.
'What do you call this place?' the traveler asked.
'This is Heaven,' he answered.
'Well, that's confusing,' the traveler said. 'The man down the
road said that was Heaven, too.'
'Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell.'
'Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?'
'No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave
their best friends behind.'
Soooo ..Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding jokes to us without
writing a word. Maybe this will explain.
When you are very busy, but still want to keep in touch, guess what you do? You
forward jokes.
When you have nothing to say, but still want to keep contact, you forward
jokes.
When you have something to say, but don't know what, and don't know
how, you forward jokes.
Also to let you know that you are still remembered, you are still important,
you are still loved, you are still cared for, guess what you get?
A forwarded joke.
So, next time if you get a joke, don't think that you've been sent just
another forwarded joke, but that you've been thought of today and your
friend on the other end of your computer wanted to send you a smile.
You are all welcome @ my water bowl anytime.
when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the
road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a
tall arch that glowed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it he saw a
magnificent gate in the arch that
looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like
pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a
man at a desk to one side.
When he was close enough, he called out, 'Excuse me, where are we?'
'This is Heaven, sir,' the man answered.
'Wow! Would you happen to have some water?' the man asked.
'Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought
right up.'
The man gestured, and the gate began to open.
'Can my friend,' gesturing toward his dog, 'come in, too?' the
traveler asked.
'I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets.'
The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the
way he had been going with his dog.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt
road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed.
There was no fence.
As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and
reading a book.
'Excuse me!' he called to the man. 'Do you have any water?'
'Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in.'
'How about my friend here?' the traveler gestured to the dog.
'There should be a bowl by the pump.'
They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand
pump with a bowl beside it.
The traveler filled the water bowl and20took a long drink himself, then he gave
some to the dog.
When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing
by the tree.
'What do you call this place?' the traveler asked.
'This is Heaven,' he answered.
'Well, that's confusing,' the traveler said. 'The man down the
road said that was Heaven, too.'
'Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell.'
'Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?'
'No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave
their best friends behind.'
Soooo ..Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding jokes to us without
writing a word. Maybe this will explain.
When you are very busy, but still want to keep in touch, guess what you do? You
forward jokes.
When you have nothing to say, but still want to keep contact, you forward
jokes.
When you have something to say, but don't know what, and don't know
how, you forward jokes.
Also to let you know that you are still remembered, you are still important,
you are still loved, you are still cared for, guess what you get?
A forwarded joke.
So, next time if you get a joke, don't think that you've been sent just
another forwarded joke, but that you've been thought of today and your
friend on the other end of your computer wanted to send you a smile.
You are all welcome @ my water bowl anytime.
Google Directory Assistance- E-mail Jim Kegley (Bro.)
Thanks Jim,
The link wouldn't open for me but the number works. I just got the Westerville
community center. Right! Leave it to Google.
Sam
> Leave it to Google to come up with something
> like this!
>
>
> Here's a number worth putting in your cell
> phone, or your home phone speed
> dial: 1-800-goog411 (1-800-466-4411).
> This is an awesome service from Google, and
> it's free -- great when you are
> on the road.
>
> Don't waste your money on information calls,
> and don't waste your time
> manually dialing the number.
> Let's say I'm driving along in my car and I
> need to call the golf
> course and I don't know the number. I hit the
> speed dial for Google
> Information phone number that I have
> programmed.
>
>
> The voice at the other end says, "City &
> State." I say,
> "Garland, Texas." He says, "Business, Name, or
> Type of
> Service." I say, Firewheel Golf Course." He
> says,
> "Connecting" - and the golf course answers the
> phone.
> How great is that? This is nationwide and it
> is absolutely free!
>
>
> Click on the link below and watch the short
> clip for a quick demonstration.
>
>
> http://www.google..com/goog411/
The link wouldn't open for me but the number works. I just got the Westerville
community center. Right! Leave it to Google.
Sam
> Leave it to Google to come up with something
> like this!
>
>
> Here's a number worth putting in your cell
> phone, or your home phone speed
> dial: 1-800-goog411 (1-800-466-4411).
> This is an awesome service from Google, and
> it's free -- great when you are
> on the road.
>
> Don't waste your money on information calls,
> and don't waste your time
> manually dialing the number.
> Let's say I'm driving along in my car and I
> need to call the golf
> course and I don't know the number. I hit the
> speed dial for Google
> Information phone number that I have
> programmed.
>
>
> The voice at the other end says, "City &
> State." I say,
> "Garland, Texas." He says, "Business, Name, or
> Type of
> Service." I say, Firewheel Golf Course." He
> says,
> "Connecting" - and the golf course answers the
> phone.
> How great is that? This is nationwide and it
> is absolutely free!
>
>
> Click on the link below and watch the short
> clip for a quick demonstration.
>
>
> http://www.google..com/goog411/
Sunday, January 25, 2009
A great Lesson here- Theresa Kusner e-mail
Thank you for visiting my SamKat blog.
Theresa Kusner is a teacher and tutor at Columbus State Community College. She and JoAnn Hensley are two of my favorites there at CSCC among a very wonderful group of teachers. They send me many good messages. I continue tutoring with them in the Developmental Education Math Lab.
I would love to teach as I did for several years until I couldn't hear well enough. Mr. McGear can't hear, you know. I have forgotten so much of the wonderful things Terri has told me about her dad, Elmer Bukey, but I remember that he had war experience in the Big One. Elmer and
Terri's mother live in FL. I appreciate Mr. Bukey's message here.
----- Original Message -----
From: Theresa Kusner
To: Debbie Barie ; Patricia Cass ; Jennifer Dragoo ; Sue Hargrove ; JoAnn Hensley ; JeanAnn Hilbert ; Sam Kegley ; Theresa Klein ; Alice Kusner ; Betsy O'Connor ; Annetta Zeman
Sent: Saturday, January 24, 2009 7:42 PM
Subject: Fw: A Great Lesson Here
From: Elmer Bukey
Subject: A Great Lesson Here
uckeye55@cfl.rr.com
Date: Saturday, January 24, 2009, 3:43 AM
A lecturer when explaining stress management to an audience,
raised a glass of water and asked:
'How heavy is this glass of water?'
Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g.
The lecturer replied, 'The absolute weight doesn't matter.
It depends on how long you try to hold it.
If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem.
If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm.
If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance.
In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the
heavier it becomes.'
He continued,
'And that's the way it is with stress management.
If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later,
as the burden becomes increasingly heavy,
we won't be able to carry on. '
'As with the glass of water,
you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again.
When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden.'
'So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down.
Don't carry it home.
You can pick it up tomorrow.
Whatever burdens you're carrying now,
let them down for a moment if you can.'
So, my friend, put down anything that may be a burden to you right now.
Don't pick it up again until after you've rested a while.
__________________________________
Here are some great ways of dealing with the burdens of life:
*
* Accept that some days you're the pigeon,
and some days you're the statue.
* Always keep your words soft and sweet,
just in case you have to eat them.
* Always read stuff that will make you look good
if you die in the middle of it.
* Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be
recalled by their maker.
* If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again,
it was probably worth it.
* It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply be kind to others.
* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time,
because then you won't have a leg to stand on.
* Nobody cares if you can't dance well.
Just get up and dance.
* Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
* The second mouse gets the cheese.
* When everything's coming your way,
you're in the wrong lane.
* Birthdays are good for you.
The more you have, the longer you live.
* You may be only one person in the world,
but you may also be the world to one person.
* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
* We could learn a lot from crayons... Some are sharp, some are pretty
and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors,
but they all have to live in the same box.
*A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
*
Have an awesome day and know that someone has thought about you
today...I did.
Ding Hao
My China Days Web Site Index Page
~Music"Memories"~
Theresa Kusner is a teacher and tutor at Columbus State Community College. She and JoAnn Hensley are two of my favorites there at CSCC among a very wonderful group of teachers. They send me many good messages. I continue tutoring with them in the Developmental Education Math Lab.
I would love to teach as I did for several years until I couldn't hear well enough. Mr. McGear can't hear, you know. I have forgotten so much of the wonderful things Terri has told me about her dad, Elmer Bukey, but I remember that he had war experience in the Big One. Elmer and
Terri's mother live in FL. I appreciate Mr. Bukey's message here.
----- Original Message -----
From: Theresa Kusner
To: Debbie Barie ; Patricia Cass ; Jennifer Dragoo ; Sue Hargrove ; JoAnn Hensley ; JeanAnn Hilbert ; Sam Kegley ; Theresa Klein ; Alice Kusner ; Betsy O'Connor ; Annetta Zeman
Sent: Saturday, January 24, 2009 7:42 PM
Subject: Fw: A Great Lesson Here
From: Elmer Bukey
Subject: A Great Lesson Here
uckeye55@cfl.rr.com
Date: Saturday, January 24, 2009, 3:43 AM
A lecturer when explaining stress management to an audience,
raised a glass of water and asked:
'How heavy is this glass of water?'
Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g.
The lecturer replied, 'The absolute weight doesn't matter.
It depends on how long you try to hold it.
If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem.
If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm.
If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance.
In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the
heavier it becomes.'
He continued,
'And that's the way it is with stress management.
If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later,
as the burden becomes increasingly heavy,
we won't be able to carry on. '
'As with the glass of water,
you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again.
When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden.'
'So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down.
Don't carry it home.
You can pick it up tomorrow.
Whatever burdens you're carrying now,
let them down for a moment if you can.'
So, my friend, put down anything that may be a burden to you right now.
Don't pick it up again until after you've rested a while.
__________________________________
Here are some great ways of dealing with the burdens of life:
*
* Accept that some days you're the pigeon,
and some days you're the statue.
* Always keep your words soft and sweet,
just in case you have to eat them.
* Always read stuff that will make you look good
if you die in the middle of it.
* Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be
recalled by their maker.
* If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again,
it was probably worth it.
* It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply be kind to others.
* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time,
because then you won't have a leg to stand on.
* Nobody cares if you can't dance well.
Just get up and dance.
* Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
* The second mouse gets the cheese.
* When everything's coming your way,
you're in the wrong lane.
* Birthdays are good for you.
The more you have, the longer you live.
* You may be only one person in the world,
but you may also be the world to one person.
* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
* We could learn a lot from crayons... Some are sharp, some are pretty
and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors,
but they all have to live in the same box.
*A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
*
Have an awesome day and know that someone has thought about you
today...I did.
Ding Hao
My China Days Web Site Index Page
~Music"Memories"~
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Your Mother- E-mail from Sarah Taylor
We should all fully agree, Sarah. Sadly, there are some of this world who can't. Thank god for mothers of us who can believe.
Sam
----- Original Message -----
From: Sarah Taylor
Subject: FW: YOUR MOTHER
A very special thought of a very special person in your life!!!! Cherish her now. . . or remember her.
cjp
Your Mother is always with you!
She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street, she's the smell
of certain foods you remember, flowers you pick and perfume that she wore,
she's the cool hand on your brow when you're not feeling well, she's your
breath in the air on a cold winter's day. She is the sound of the rain that
lulls you to sleep, the colors of a rainbow, she is Christmas morning.
Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized in every tear drop.
A mother shows every emotion...happiness, sadness, fear, jealousy, love, hate,
anger, helplessness, excitement, joy, sorrow... and all the while, hoping and
praying you will only know the good feelings in life.
She's the place you came from, your first home, and she's the map you follow with
every step you take. She's your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy,
but nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space......... not even death!
PASS THIS ON TO ALL THE MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS AND SONS YOU KNOW.... MAY WE NEVER TAKE OUR MOTHERS FOR GRANTED.
'The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or touched. They must be felt
with the heart.'
Sam
----- Original Message -----
From: Sarah Taylor
Subject: FW: YOUR MOTHER
A very special thought of a very special person in your life!!!! Cherish her now. . . or remember her.
cjp
Your Mother is always with you!
She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street, she's the smell
of certain foods you remember, flowers you pick and perfume that she wore,
she's the cool hand on your brow when you're not feeling well, she's your
breath in the air on a cold winter's day. She is the sound of the rain that
lulls you to sleep, the colors of a rainbow, she is Christmas morning.
Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized in every tear drop.
A mother shows every emotion...happiness, sadness, fear, jealousy, love, hate,
anger, helplessness, excitement, joy, sorrow... and all the while, hoping and
praying you will only know the good feelings in life.
She's the place you came from, your first home, and she's the map you follow with
every step you take. She's your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy,
but nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space......... not even death!
PASS THIS ON TO ALL THE MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS AND SONS YOU KNOW.... MAY WE NEVER TAKE OUR MOTHERS FOR GRANTED.
'The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or touched. They must be felt
with the heart.'
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