I just wanted to say that...and you beat me to it, blahblah!!! :lol: :lol:
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I just wanted to say that...and you beat me to it, blahblah!!! :lol: :lol:
:lol: :lol: :lol:
To be honest, that's what everyone says. One of my nick names in my earlier org. was 'H.M.' (Head Mistress) :lol:
And you still haven't learnt!! :huh: :huh:
Athu kooda piranthathu.. I take it as a compliment thambi.. after all, perfectionists are a rare commodity.
Well, what more can I say? :huh: I rest my case :lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by scorpio
Charles Plumb was an U.S. Navy jet pilot in Vietnam. After 75 combat missions, his plane was destroyed by a surface-to-air missile. Plumb ejected and parachuted into enemy hands. He was captured and spent 6 years in a communist Vietnamese prison. He survived the ordeal and now lectures on lessons learned from that experience.
One day, when Plumb and his wife were sitting in a restaurant, a man at another table came up and said, "You're Plumb!". "You flew jet fighters in Vietnam from the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk. You were shot down!"
"How in the world did you know that?" asked Plumb. "I packed your parachute," the man replied. Plumb gasped in surprise and gratitude.
The man pumped his hand and said, "I guess it worked!"
Plumb assured him: "It sure did. If your chute hadn't worked, I wouldn't be here today." Plumb could not sleep that night, thinking about that man.
Plumb says: "I kept wondering what he might have looked like in a Navy uniform: a white hat, a bib in the back, and bell-bottom trousers. I wonder how many times I might have seen him and not even said 'Good morning, how are you?' or anything because, you see, I was a fighter pilot and he was just a sailor.
Plumb thought of the many hours the sailor had spent on a long wooden table in the bowels of the ship, carefully weaving the shrouds and folding the silks of each chute, holding in his hands each time the fate of someone he didn't know.
Now, Plumb asks his audience, "Who's packing your Parachute?" "Everyone has someone who provides what they need to make it through the day." Plumb also points out that he needed many kinds of parachutes when his plane was shot down over enemy territory -- he needed his physical parachute, his mental parachute, his emotional parachute, and his spiritual parachute. He called on all these supports before reaching safety.
Sometimes in the daily challenges that life gives us, we miss what is really important. We may fail to say hello, please, or thank you, congratulate someone on something wonderful that has happened to them, give a compliment, or just do something nice for no reason.
As you go through this week, this month, this year, recognize people who pack your parachute. I am posting you this as my way of thanking you for your part in packing my parachute!!
Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding jokes to us without writing a word. Maybe this could explain: When you are very busy, but still want to keep in touch, guess what you do?
You forward jokes. Moreover, 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.
Visit this site for more humor from Melvin Durai... http://www.melvindurai.com/bio.html
THE STRANGE PEOPLE ACROSS THE BORDER
The other day, while visiting a furniture store, I met a
worker who looked Indian. But when I told him I was from
India, he revealed he was from Pakistan. At that point, I
had no choice: I grabbed a chair and chased him around the
store, shouting, "Death to the Pakistani!"
Actually, it didn't go quite like that. Security was tight,
so I waited until his shift ended and followed him home,
where I deflated his tires, raided his refrigerator, and
tattooed the words "I love India!" all over his body. Who
said tattoos serve no purpose?
OK, I admit it: I didn't go that far. All I did was shake
his hand and smile. We had a rather friendly chat. I didn't
ask if any of his relatives were terrorists. He didn't ask
if any of mine were infidels. We didn't even insult each
other's mother-in-law.
He stated that the Kashmir dispute shouldn't create any ill
will between us. "Yes," I said. "After all, India and
Pakistan were once the same country. We are like family, you
and I. That reminds me: Does this store offer any family
discounts?"
If it were up to us, the border between India and Pakistan
would be eliminated. Of course, if that happened, the
country would have to look for a new enemy, so people in the
military could keep their jobs. Gotta keep the economy
going.
It's a funny thing about borders -- how they divide people,
how they create enmity and envy, how they give travelers the
occasional thrill of being strip-searched.
Borders often seem so arbitrary, so illogical, like a
British monarch delegated the task of drawing borders to his
pet monkey. And yet we take them so seriously. We act like
the people across the border are so different from us.
Fifty-year-old man: "They're crazy, those people across the
border. They speak a strange language and play strange
games. Crazy, I tell you."
Wife: "Oh, be quiet. You really shouldn't speak ill of the
Canadians. They're just like us. Nice people."
I've often wondered what America would be like if every
state were an independent country. It would be virtually
impossible to travel from Nevada to Utah.
Border officer: "You're from Las Vegas? What, may I
ask, do you want in Utah? There's no gambling here, you
know. No prostitution either. We don't even allow bingo."
Traveler: "I'm visiting my parents. They live just across
the border."
Officer: "Visiting your parents? I don't believe it. It's
not Christmas yet. Sorry, I can't let you through. If you
want to enter Utah, you'll have to hide in a barrel like
everyone else."
I like the Internet because it crosses borders so easily,
brings people of different countries together. People in
almost any country can read my column, people in almost any
country can send me hate mail. I love hearing from
Pakistanis as much as anyone else.
In major American cities, you will find Indians and
Pakistanis doing business side by side, some operating
stores with names like South Asia Boutique, Indo-Pak
Groceries and Indo-Pak Sweets & No Disputes. You
may even spot them at the local park, playing a few
innings of cricket -- laughing and shouting and ignoring
the strange looks from passers-by.
There's no border between these people. I hope there never
is.
Teacher Debbie Moon's first graders were discussing a picture of a family. One little boy in the picture had a different color hair than the other family members. One child suggested that he was adopted and a little girl said, "I know all about adoptions because I was adopted." "What does it mean to be adopted?" asked another child. "It means," said the girl, "that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy."
Note - I only remembered fellow hubbers Shekhar and Shakthi when I read this!
For those days when sermons and services were long, there is a purpose...
Why go to church?
A Church goer wrote a letter to the editor of a newspaper and complained that it made no sense to go to church every Sunday. "I've gone for 30 years now," he wrote, "and in that time I have heard something like 3,000 sermons. But for the life of me, I can't remember a single one of them. So, I think I'm wasting my time and the pastors are wasting theirs by giving sermons at all."
This started a real controversy in the "Letters to the Editor" column, much to the delight of the editor. It went on for weeks until someone wrote this clincher: "I've been married for 30 years now. In that time my wife has cooked some 32,000 meals. But for the life of me, I cannot recall the entire menu for a single one of those meals. But I do know this: They all nourished me and gave me the strength I needed to do my work. If my wife had not given me these meals, I would be physically dead today. Likewise, if I had not gone to church for nourishment, I would be spiritually dead today! "
When you are DOWN to nothing.... God is UP to something!
Faith sees the invisible, believes the incredible and receives the impossible! Thank God for our physical AND our spiritual nourishment! I think everyone should read this!!
"When Satan is knocking at your door, simply say, "Lord, could you get that for me?
FOR THE GARDEN OF YOUR DAILY LIVING,
PLANT THREE ROWS OF PEAS:
1. Peace of mind
2. Peace of heart
3. Peace of soul
PLANT FOUR ROWS OF SQUASH:
1. Squash gossip
2. Squash indifference
3. Squash grumbling
4. Squash selfishness
PLANT FOUR ROWS OF LETTUCE:
1. Lettuce be faithful
2. Lettuce be kind
3. Lettuce be patient
4. Lettuce really love one another
NO GARDEN IS WITHOUT TURNIPS:
1. Turnip for meetings
2. Turnip for service
3. Turnip to help one another
TO CONCLUDE OUR GARDEN WE MUST HAVE THYME:
1. Thyme for each other
2. Thyme for family
3. Thyme for friends
WATER FREELY WITH PATIENCE AND CULTIVATE WITH LOVE. THERE IS MUCH FRUIT IN YOUR GARDEN BECAUSE YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW.