Short stories

[المستشار الغرابي]

This section for short stories . Every day I will put short story here .

THE 4 WIVES

There was a rich merchant who had 4 wives. He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to delicacies. He took great care of her and gave her nothing but the best.

He also loved the 3rd wife very much. He's very proud of her and always wanted to show off her to his friends. However, the merchant is always in great fear that she might run away with some other men.

He too, loved his 2nd wife. She is a very considerate person, always patient and in fact is the merchant's confidante. Whenever the merchant faced some problems, he always turned to his 2nd wife and she would always help him out and tide him through difficult times.

Now, the merchant's 1st wife is a very loyal partner and has made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and business as well as taking care of the household. However, the merchant did not love the first wife and although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her.

One day, the merchant fell ill. Before long, he knew that he was going to die soon. He thought of his luxurious life and told himself, "Now I have 4 wives with me. But when I die, I'll be alone. How lonely I'll be!"

Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I loved you 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?" "No way!" replied the 4th wife and she walked away without another word.

The answer cut like a sharp knife right into the merchant's heart. The sad merchant then asked the 3rd wife, "I have loved you so much for all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No!" replied the 3rd wife. "Life is so good over here! I'm going to remarry when you die!" The merchant's heart sank and turned cold.

He then asked the 2nd wife, "I always turned to you for help and you've always helped me out. Now I need your help again. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?" "I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!" replied the 2nd wife. "At the very most, I can only send you to your grave." The answer came like a bolt of thunder and the merchant was devastated.

Then a voice called out : "I'll leave with you. I'll follow you no matter where you go." The merchant looked up and there was his first wife. She was so skinny, almost like she suffered from malnutrition. Greatly grieved, the merchant said, "I should have taken much better care of you while I could have !"

Actually, we all have 4 wives in our lives

a. The 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it'll leave us when we die.

b. Our 3rd wife ? Our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, they all go to others.

c. The 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how close they had been there for us when we're alive, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.

d. The 1st wife is in fact our soul, often neglected in our pursuit of material, wealth and sensual pleasure.

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Wait For The Brick
A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and drove the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown. The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car, shouting, "What was that all about and who are you?
Just what the heck are you doing?
That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money.
Why did you do it?"
The young boy was apologetic. "Please mister ... please, I'm sorry... I didn't know what else to do," he pleaded.
"I threw the brick because no one else would stop..."
With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car.
"It's my brother," he said.
"He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up."

Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me."
Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out his fancy handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be okay.

"Thank you and may God bless you," the grateful child told the stranger.
Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the little boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home. It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message: Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Building Your House



An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house-building business to live a more leisurely life with his wife and enjoy his extended family. He would miss the paycheck each week, but he wanted to retire. They could get by.

The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go & asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but over time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end a dedicated career.

When the carpenter finished his work, his employer came to inspect the house. Then he handed the front-door key to the carpenter and said, "This is your house... my gift to you."

The carpenter was shocked!

What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently.

So it is with us. We build our lives, a day at a time, often putting less than our best into the building. Then, with a shock, we realize we have to live in the house we have built. If we could do it over, we would do it much differently.

But, you cannot go back. You are the carpenter, and every day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Someone once said, "Life is a do-it-yourself project." Your attitude, and the choices you make today, help build the "house" you will live in tomorrow. Therefore, Build wisely!


My Respect

[ندى الأيام]

Stories of very Exquisiteness

Liked the story of many wives


المستشار:We must move away from excessive materialism and the purity of our lives we think

I respect most of you

Modti

[فقط الأعضاء المسجلين والمفعلين يمكنهم رؤية الوصلات]>

[المستشار الغرابي]

Stories of very Exquisiteness

Liked the story of many wives


المستشار:We must move away from excessive materialism and the purity of our lives we think

I respect most of you

Modti

[فقط الأعضاء المسجلين والمفعلين يمكنهم رؤية الوصلات]>

ندى الأيام,,""""


I wish yours to benefit

from all these short stories

Thanks a lot for passing by ,,


You have my gratitude

MY Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Trees That Wood

Once there were three trees on a hill in the woods. They were discussing their
hopes and dreams when the first tree said, "Someday I hope to be a treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems. I could be decorated with intricate carving and everyone would see the beauty."

Then the second tree said, "Someday I will be a mighty ship. I will take kings and queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world. Everyone will feel safe in me because of the strength of my hull."

Finally the third tree said, "I want to grow to be the tallest and straightest tree in the forest. People will see me on top of the hill and look up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will always remember me."

After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees. When one came to the first tree he said, "This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter" ... and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy, because he knew that the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest.

At the second tree a woodsman said, "This looks like a strong tree, I should be able to sell it to the shipyard." The second tree was happy because he knew he was on his way to becoming a mighty ship.

When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down his dreams would not come true. One of the woodsmen said, "I don't need anything special from my tree so I'll take this one", and he cut it down.

When the first tree arrived at the carpenters, he was made into a feed box for animals. He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay. This was not at all what he had prayed for. The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat. His dreams of being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an end. The third tree was cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark. The years went by, and the trees forgot about their dreams.

Then one day, a man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do. The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time. Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While they were out on the water, a great storm arose and the tree didn't think it was strong enough to keep the men safe. The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and said "Peace" and the storm stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had carried the King of Kings in its boat.

Finally, someone came and got the third tree. It was carried through the streets as the people mocked the man who was carrying it. When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close to God as was possible, because Jesus had been crucified on it.

The moral of this story is that when things don't seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you place your trust in Him, He will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they had imagined. We don't always know what God's plans are for us. We just know that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best.

My Respect

[ندى الأيام]

I am following up quietly

المستشار:Continued to write

Modti

[فقط الأعضاء المسجلين والمفعلين يمكنهم رؤية الوصلات]

[المستشار الغرابي]

I am following up quietly

المستشار:Continued to write

Modti

[فقط الأعضاء المسجلين والمفعلين يمكنهم رؤية الوصلات]

ندى الأيام "" Days Dew""
Welcome again

My Gratitude for you

I respect you

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Dads Blessings

A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted .

As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautifully wrapped gift box. Curious, but somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's name embossed in gold. Angry, he raised his voice to his father and said "With all your money, you give me a Bible?" and stormed out of the house, leaving the Bible.

Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and wonderful family, but realized his father was very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could make arrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to come home immediately and take care of things.

When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father's important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago. With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. And as he did, a car key dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words PAID IN FULL.

How many times do we miss Spirit's blessings and answers to our prayers because they do not arrive exactly as we have expected?

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Love and Time


Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love.

Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment.

When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help.

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said,
"Richness, can you take me with you?"
Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you."

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!"
"I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you."
"Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"

Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.

Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come, Love, I will take you." It was an elder. So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way. Realizing how much was owed the elder,

Love asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who Helped me?"
"It was Time," Knowledge answered.
"Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?"
Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is."



My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Praying Hands


Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.

After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.

They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.

When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."

All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no ...no ...no."

Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ...
for me it is too late."

More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.

One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one - - ever makes it alone!

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Making Of A Mother


By the time the Lord made mothers, He was into the sixth day working
overtime. An Angel appeared and said "Why are you spending so much time on this one?"

And the Lord answered and said, "Have you read the spec sheet on her? She has to be completely washable, but not elastic; have 200 movable parts, all replaceable; run on black coffee and leftovers; have a lap that can hold three children at one time and that disappears when she stands up; have a kiss that can cure anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart; and have six pairs of hands."


The Angel was astounded at the requirements for this one. "Six pairs of hands! No way!" said the Angel.

The Lord replied, "Oh, it's not the hands that are the problem. It's the three pairs of eyes that mothers must have!"

"And that's on the standard model?" the Angel asked.

The Lord nodded in agreement, "Yep, one pair of eyes are to see through the closed door as she asks her children what they are doing even though she already knows. Another pair in the back of her head are to see what she needs to know even though no one thinks she can. And the third pair are here in the front of her head. They are for looking at an errant child and saying that she understands and loves him or her without even saying a single word."

The Angel tried to stop the Lord "This is too much work for one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."

"But I can't!" The Lord protested, "I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own heart. She already heals herself when she is sick AND can feed a family of six on a pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand in the shower."

The Angel moved closer and touched the woman, "But you have made her so soft, Lord."

"She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."

"Will she be able to think?" asked the Angel.

The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be able to reason, and negotiate."

The Angel then noticed something and reached out and touched the woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like You have a leak with this model. I told You that You were trying to put too much into this one."

"That's not a leak." the Lord objected. "That's a tear!"

"What's the tear for?" the Angel asked.

The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her disappointment, her pain, her loneliness, her grief, and her pride."

The Angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thought of everything for this one. You even created the tear!"

The Lord looked at the Angel and smiled and said, "I'm afraid you are wrong again. I created the woman, but she created the tear!"


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Rose Within



A certain man planted a rose and watered it faithfully and before it blossomed, he examined it.

He saw the bud that would soon blossom, but noticed thorns upon the stem and he thought, "How can any beautiful flower come from a plant burdened with so many sharp thorns? Saddened by this thought, he neglected to water the rose, and just before it was ready to bloom... it died.

So it is with many people. Within every soul there is a rose. The God-like qualities planted in us at birth, grow amid the thorns of our faults. Many of us look at ourselves and see only the thorns, the defects.

We despair, thinking that nothing good can possibly come from us. We neglect to water the good within us, and eventually it dies. We never realize our potential.

Some people do not see the rose within themselves; someone else must show it to them. One of the greatest gifts a person can possess is to be able to reach past the thorns of another, and find the rose within them.

This is one of the characteristic of love... to look at a person, know their true faults and accepting that person into your life... all the while recognizing the nobility in their soul. Help others to realize they can overcome their faults. If we show them the "rose" within themselves, they will conquer their thorns. Only then will they blossom many times over.


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Mountain Story

An interesting short story


"A son and his father were walking on the mountains.
Suddenly, his son falls, hurts himself and screams: "AAAhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
To his surprise, he hears the voice repeating, somewhere in the mountain: "AAAhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Curious, he yells: "Who are you?"
He receives the answer: "Who are you?"
And then he screams to the mountain: "I admire you!"
The voice answers: "I admire you!"
Angered at the response, he screams: "Coward!"
He receives the answer: "Coward!"
He looks to his father and asks: "What's going on?"
The father smiles and says: "My son, pay attention."
Again the man screams: "You are a champion!"
The voice answers: "You are a champion!"
The boy is surprised, but does not understand.
Then the father explains: "People call this ECHO, but really this is LIFE.
It gives you back everything you say or do.
Our life is simply a reflection of our actions.
If you want more love in the world, create more love in your heart.
If you want more competence in your team, improve your competence.
This relationship applies to everything, in all aspects of life;
Life will give you back everything you have given to it."

YOUR LIFE IS NOT A COINCIDENCE. IT'S A REFLECTION OF YOU!"
My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

EAGLES IN A STORM





Did you know that an eagle knows when a storm is approaching long before it breaks?
The eagle will fly to some high spot and wait for the winds to come. When the storm hits, it sets its wings so that the wind will pick it up and lift it above the storm. While the storm rages below, the eagle is soaring above it.

The eagle does not escape the storm. It simply uses the storm to lift it higher. It rises on the winds that bring the storm.

When the storms of life come upon us - and all of us will experience them - we can rise above them by setting our minds and our belief toward God. The storms do not have to overcome us. We can allow God's power to lift us above them.

God enables us to ride the winds of the storm that bring sickness, tragedy, failure and disappointment in our lives. We can soar above the storm.

Remember, it is not the burdens of life that weigh us down, it is how we handle them

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Sand and Stone

A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE."

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one, who had been slapped, got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After the friend recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE."



The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?"

The other friend replied: "When someone hurts us, we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it."

LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND, AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE




My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Mothers day

A man stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to his mother who lived two hundred miles away.
As he got out of his car he noticed a young girl sitting on the curb sobbing.
He asked her what was wrong and she replied, "I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother.
But I only have seventy-five cents, and a rose costs two dollars."
The man smiled and said, "Come on in with me. I'll buy you a rose."
He bought the little girl her rose and ordered his own mother's flowers.
As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride home.
She said, "Yes, please! You can take me to my mother."
She directed him to a cemetery, where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave.
The man returned to the flower shop, canceled the wire order, picked up a bouquet and drove the two hundred miles to his mother's house.



My Rspect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Alexander Fleming


His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to eke out a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow
and terrifying death.
The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.
"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."
"No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.
"Is that your son?" the nobleman asked. "Yes," the farmer replied proudly.
"I'll make you a deal. Let me take him and give him a good education.
If the lad is anything like his father, he'll grow to a man you can be proud of."
And that he did. In time, Farmer Fleming's son graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.
Years afterward, the nobleman's son was stricken with pneumonia.
What saved him? Penicillin.
The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.
His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.

Someone once said what goes around comes around


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Wooden Bowl

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and a four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together nightly at the dinner table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating rather difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass often milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about grandfather," said the son. I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor. So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner at the dinner table. Since grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. Sometimes when the family glanced in grandfather's direction, he had a tear in his eye as he ate alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence.

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 from when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. 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. Children are remarkably perceptive. Their eyes ever observe, their ears ever listen, and their minds ever process the messages they absorb. If they see us patiently provide a happy home atmosphere for family members, they will imitate that attitude for the rest of their lives. The wise parent realizes that every day that building blocks are being laid for the child's future.

Let us all be wise builders and role models. Take care of yourself, ... and those you love, ... today, and everyday!
My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

[He paid the price for another man’s folly].

One life gone, 2 people dead !

A mother is devastated, she is howling with pain, yelling all she can in that dark and dingy corner of her four by four kholi. There was nobody to hear her yell and not a soul to pacify her, because outside her shack is a long winding lonely road. There was no existence of mankind for miles and miles ahead. The wind was at rest, the leaves didn’t rustle and no resonance of a barking dog, silence filled the air. Loneliness was already killing her, but no one knows what made her cry?



Losing something you love with all your heart isn’t really the grief you can ever overcome. Radha lost her baby. Her only means to live. She saw her child getting crushed under a car in front of her own eyes. Blood was all over and the accident was terrible. One lonely night, she was walking down the street t get a breath of fresh air with her child cuddled tight in her arms. She walked a long time s till she saw the face of mankind (in the evilest form).



The whole time she walked with her child in her arms the only thing that worried her was Aryans (her son’s) future. What kind of a person will he be? Will he make me proud? How much light is life going to bring in his existence? She was imagining and feeling every day of the Childs growth, and what she had in store for him. But who knows what’s in store for us tomorrow, life can change in the splits of a second. Talk about destiny, all those dreams hopes and expectations were snatched away from her in an instant. Her smiles were frowns and her faith just crumbled, like a deal soul in a living, rather breathing body.



This is how it happened…. On that abandoned road, were a few streetlights barely sufficient? There was this one light that was visible from a distance, but as it came closer it got brighter and brighter. That light changed radha’s life into darkness forever. A speeding car came down that road, as if the driver had jammed the accelerator, cutting across the wind. He came at a speek of 110kmph throwing beer bottles out of his half open window. He was definitely drunk, the speed took everything in its path. Just then, there was a loud cry, and silence set in again. The cry of a baby and no sight of a child.



Ironically the mother wasn’t hurt, not a scratch on a body, not a bruise on her arm. She opened her eyes and didn’t she Aryan, her vision was blur. After a few minutes when her sight cleared up she looked all over frantically for her baby, but alas! There was nothing. Just then she noticed something about then feet away it was blood draining into the gutter’s, and pieces of minced flesh, laying there saying so much without saying anything at all. The blood of her baby, the child who hadn’t even seen life,

He paid the price for another man’s folly. The same little child whose future was just being planned.

Simple, don’t drink and drive. You could take a life, but kill a number of people.



~By Nisha Malhotra~

Copyright©2002. Nisha Malhotra. All rights reserved




GOOD THINGS DON’T STAY TOGETHER,

BUT OFTEN STAY APART



Moments that we’ve shared, cannot be jotted down on paper,

But nevertheless it was chemistry, not vapor,

You walked into my life, and made the deepest mark,

This ignited my fire, which gave birth to a spark,



When you are here, I have the world with me,

It is heaven; I wish it could be eternity,

We walked side by side,

Hand in hand, under the moonlight,

The touch of your hand, your presence worthwhile,

The warmth that you give me makes me feel so secure,

I will be with you in pain; I will be with you in cure!



As the sun rose, and a new day just began,

You leave my hand and told me it’s all done,

I know you have to go, but you’ll stay by my side,

That look in your eyes, just seems to tell me more,

Though, the parting is a pain, our love seems to grow,

You tell me not to cry, but, keep a positive heart,

“Because all good things don’t stay together, but often stay apart.”



The day is finally here, when you leave me all alone,

Like an orphan misses a mother, and a homeless misses a home,

The depth in your eyes, your touch and your feel,

Is what I’ll miss, I’ll miss you for real,

That passion and that care, you’ve showered on me,

Are all those special moments, and that’s what they are going to be.



If I had to give you something, that would remind you of me,

I’d give you a house full of memories,

Because memories are things that go deeper into time,

We can look back at them and revive all that, lasting for years to go,

We’ll build it together and cherish it forever,

All that we shared, we’d capture under lock and key,

And make a life in that house, which is ideal for you and me.



Its time for us to part, you’ll be at the other end of the world,

Both of us with a totally shattered heart,

My heart bleeds to see you depart,

I will wait for you with bated breath,

I will lead my life, but I will also fret,

Cause without you I am incomplete, the emptiness is there,

Only when you are with me again, will that hollowness disappear,

As the sun goes down, with autumn all around,

Till the waters are blue, I will wait for you,

I wish you luck for the times we‘re apart,

I will miss you, don’t worry I will convince my heart.



~By Nisha Malhotr

My Respect

[ندى الأيام]

Deserves 5 stars for wonderful stories

Modti

[فقط الأعضاء المسجلين والمفعلين يمكنهم رؤية الوصلات]

[المستشار الغرابي]

Deserves 5 stars for wonderful stories

Modti

[فقط الأعضاء المسجلين والمفعلين يمكنهم رؤية الوصلات]

""ندى الأيام""

Welcome back

I respect and appreciate you

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Two frogs


A group of frogs were traveling through the woods, and two of them
fell into a deep pit. When the other frogs saw how deep the pit
was, they told the two frogs that they were as good as dead. The
two frogs ignored the comments and tried to jump up out of the pit
with all their might. The other frogs kept telling them to stop,
that they were as good as dead. Finally, one of the frogs took
heed to what the other frogs were saying and gave up. He fell down
and died.

The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Once again,
the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die. He
jumped even harder and finally made it out. When he got out, the
other frogs said, "Did you not hear us?" The frog explained to
them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the
entire time.

This story teaches two lessons:

1. There is power of life and death in the tongue. An encouraging
word to someone who is down can lift them up and help them make it
through the day.

2. A destructive word to someone who is down can be what it takes
to kill them.

Be careful of what you say. Speak life to those who cross your
path. The power of words... it is sometimes hard to understand
that an encouraging word can go such a long way. Anyone can speak
words that tend to rob another of the spirit to continue in
difficult times. Special is the individual who will take the time
to encourage another.



My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Parable Of The Pencil - Pencil story



The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box.

"There are 5 things you need to know," he told the pencil, "Before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be."

"One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone's hand."

"Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you'll need it to become a better pencil."

"Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make."

"Four: The most important part of you will always be what's inside."

"And Five: On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write."

The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart.


Now replacing the place of the pencil with you. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best person you can be.

One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in God's hand. And allow other human beings to access you for the many gifts you possess.

Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, by going through various problems in life, but you'll need it to become a stronger person.

Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.

Four: The most important part of you will always be what's on the inside.

And Five: On every surface you walk through, you must leave your mark. No matter what the situation, you must continue to do your duties.



Allow this parable on the pencil to encourage you to know that you are a special person and only you can fulfill the purpose to which you were born to accomplish.

Never allow yourself to get discouraged and think that your life is insignificant and cannot make a change.


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Buzzard, The Bat, and the Bumblebee


If you put a buzzard in a pen six or eight feet square and entirely open at the top, the bird, in spite of his ability to fly, will be an absolute prisoner. The reason is that a buzzard always begins a flight from the ground with a run of ten or twelve feet. Without space to run, as is his habit, he will not even attempt to fly, but will remain a prisoner for life in a small jail with no top.
The ordinary bat that flies around at night, a remarkable nimble creature in the air, cannot take off from a level place. If it is placed on the floor or flat ground, all it can do is shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt, painfully, until it reaches some slight elevation from which it can throw itself into the air. Then, at once, it takes off like a flash.

A Bumblebee if dropped into an open tumbler will be there until it dies, unless it is taken out. It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying to find some way out through the sides near the bottom. It will seek a way where none exists, until it completely destroys itself.

In many ways, there are lots of people like the buzzard, the bat and the bee. They are struggling about with all their problems and frustrations, not realizing that the answer is right there above them.

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Invitation



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."

"Is the man of the house home?", they asked. "No", she said. "He's out." "Then we cannot come in", they replied.

In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened. "Go tell them I am home and invite them in!" The woman went out and invited the men in. "We do not go into a House together," they replied. "Why is that?" she wanted to know.

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."

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!"

His wife disagreed. "My dear, why don't we invite Success?" 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!"

"Let us heed our daughter-in-law's advice," said the husband to his wife. "Go out and invite Love to be our guest."

The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, "Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest."

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?"

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!!!!!!"

OUR WISH FOR YOU... Where there is pain, we wish you peace and mercy.

Where there is self-doubting, we wish you a renewed confidence in your ability to work through them.

Where there is tiredness, or exhaustion, we wish you understanding, patience, and renewed strength.

Where there is fear, we wish you love, and courage. Peace to you



My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Bad Temper



There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.

The first day, the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.

The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a

scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry the wound is still there. A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one."



My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Growing Good Corn


There was a Nebraska farmer who grew award-winning corn. Each year he entered his corn in the state fair where it won a blue ribbon...

One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbors.

"How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbors when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?" the reporter asked.

"Why sir," said the farmer, "didn't you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbors grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbors grow good corn."

He is very much aware of the connectedness of life. His corn cannot improve unless his neighbor's corn also improves.

So it is in other dimensions. Those who choose to be at peace must help their neighbors to be at peace. Those who choose to live well must help others to live well, for the value of a life is measured by the lives it touches. And those who choose to be happy must help others to find happiness for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all.

The lesson for each of us is this: if we are to grow good corn, we must help our neighbors grow good corn.


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Valentine Roses

A touching story.......

Red roses were her favorites, her name was also Rose.
And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows.
The year he died, the roses were delivered to her door.
The card said, "Be my Valentine," like all the years before.



Each year he sent her roses, and the note would always say,
"I love you even more this year, than last year on this day."
"My love for you will always grow, with every passing year."
She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear.



She thought, he ordered roses in advance before this day.
Her loving husband did not know, that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early, way before the time.
Then, if he got too busy, everything would work out fine.



She trimmed the stems, and placed them in a very special vase.
Then, sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours, in her husband's favorite chair.
While staring at his picture, and the roses sitting there.



A year went by, and it was hard to live without her mate.
With loneliness and solitude, that had become her fate.
Then, the very hour, as on Valentines before,
The doorbell rang, and there were roses, sitting by her door

She brought the roses in, and then just looked at them in shock.
Then, went to get the telephone, to call the florist shop.
The owner answered, and she asked him, if he would explain,
Why would someone do this to her, causing her such pain?



"I know your husband passed away, more than a year ago,"
The owner said, "I knew you'd call, and you would want to know."
"The flowers you received today, were paid for in advance."
"Your husband always planned ahead, he left nothing to chance."

"There is a standing order, that I have on file down here,
And he has paid, well in advance, you'll get them every year.
There also is another thing, that I think you should know,
He wrote a special little card...he did this years ago."



"Then, should ever, I find out that he's no longer here,
That's the card...that should be sent, to you the following year."
She thanked him and hung up the phone, her tears now flowing hard.
Her fingers shaking, as she slowly reached to get the card.

Inside the card, she saw that he had written her a note.
Then, as she stared in total silence, this is what he wrote...
"Hello my love, I know it's been a year since I've been gone,
I hope it hasn't been too hard for you to overcome."



"I know it must be lonely, and the pain is very real.
For if it was the other way, I know how I would feel.
The love we shared made everything so beautiful in life.
I loved you more than words can say, you were the perfect wife."

"You were my friend and lover, you fulfilled my every need.
I know it's only been a year, but please try not to grieve.
I want you to be happy, even when you shed your tears.
That is why the roses will be sent to you for years."

"When you get these roses, think of all the happiness,
That we had together, and how both of us were blessed.
I have always loved you and I know I always will.
But, my love, you must go on, you have some living still."



"Please...try to find happiness, while living out your days.
I know it is not easy, but I hope you find some ways.
The roses will come every year, and they will only stop,
When your door's not answered, when the florist stops to knock."

"He will come five times that day, in case you have gone out.
But after his last visit, he will know without a doubt,
To take the roses to the place, where I've instructed him,
And place the roses where we are, together once again."


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

DETERMINATON



In 1883, a creative engineer named John Roebling was inspired by an idea to build a spectacular bridge connecting New York with the Long Island. However bridge building experts throughout the world thought that this was an impossible feat and told Roebling to forget the idea. It just could not be done. It was not practical. It had never been done before.

Roebling could not ignore the vision he had in his mind of this bridge. He thought about it all the time and he knew deep in his heart that it could be done. He just had to share the dream with someone else. After much discussion and persuasion he managed to convince his son Washington, an up and coming engineer, that the bridge in fact could be built.

Working together for the first time, the father and son developed concepts of how it could be accomplished and how the obstacles could be overcome. With great excitement and inspiration, and the headiness of a wild challenge before them, they hired their crew and began to build their dream bridge.

The project started well, but when it was only a few months underway a tragic accident on the site took the life of John Roebling. Washington was injured and left with a certain amount of brain damage, which resulted in him not being able to walk or talk or even move.


"We told them so."
"Crazy men and their crazy dreams."
"It`s foolish to chase wild visions."

Everyone had a negative comment to make and felt that the project should be scrapped since the Roeblings were the only ones who knew how the bridge could be built. In spite of his handicap Washington was never discouraged and still had a burning desire to complete the bridge and his mind was still as sharp as ever.

He tried to inspire and pass on his enthusiasm to some of his friends, but they were too daunted by the task. As he lay on his bed in his hospital room, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, a gentle breeze blew the flimsy white curtains apart and he was able to see the sky and the tops of the trees outside for just a moment.

It seemed that there was a message for him not to give up. Suddenly an idea hit him. All he could do was move one finger and he decided to make the best use of it. By moving this, he slowly developed a code of communication with his wife.

He touched his wife's arm with that finger, indicating to her that he wanted her to call the engineers again. Then he used the same method of tapping her arm to tell the engineers what to do. It seemed foolish but the project was under way again.

For 13 years Washington tapped out his instructions with his finger on his wife's arm, until the bridge was finally completed. Today the spectacular Brooklyn Bridge stands in all its glory as a tribute to the triumph of one man's indomitable spirit and his determination not to be defeated by circumstances. It is also a tribute to the engineers and their team work, and to their faith in a man who was considered mad by half the world. It stands too as a tangible monument to the love and devotion of his wife who for 13 long years patiently decoded the messages of her husband and told the engineers what to do.

Perhaps this is one of the best examples of a never-say-die attitude that overcomes a terrible physical handicap and achieves an impossible goal.

Often when we face obstacles in our day-to-day life, our hurdles seem very small in comparison to what many others have to face. The Brooklyn Bridge shows us that dreams that seem impossible can be realised with determination and persistence, no matter what the odds are.

Even the most distant dream can be realized with determination and persistence.


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Window"



Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the outside world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should hehave all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything? It didn't seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window - and that thought now controlled his life.

Late one night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and choking stopped, along with the sound of breathing. Now, there was only silence--deathly silence.

The following morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away--no words, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

Moral of the story:

The pursuit of happiness is a matter of choice...it is a positive attitude we consciously choose to express. It is not a gift that gets delivered to our doorstep each morning, nor does it come through the window. And I am certain that our circumstances are just a small part of what makes us joyful. If we wait for them to get just right, we will never find lasting joy.

The pursuit of happiness is an inward journey. Our minds are like programs, awaiting the code that will determine behaviors; like bank vaults awaiting our deposits. If we regularly deposit positive, encouraging, and uplifting thoughts, if we continue to bite our lips just before we begin to grumble and complain, if we shoot down that seemingly harmless negative thought as it germinates, we will find that there is much to rejoice about



My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

DON'T WE ALL



I was parked in front of the mall wiping off my car. I had just come
from the car wash and was waiting for my wife to get out of work.
Coming my way from across the parking lot was what society would
consider a bum.
From the looks of him, he had no car, no home, no clean clothes, and no
money. There are times when you feel generous but there are other times
that you just don't want to be bothered. This was one of those "don't
want to be bothered times."
"I hope he doesn't ask me for any money," I thought.
He didn't.
He came and sat on the curb in front of the bus stop but he didn't look
like he could have enough money to even ride the bus.
After a few minutes he spoke.
"That's a very pretty car," he said.
He was ragged but he had an air of dignity around him. His scraggly
blond beard keep more than his face warm.
I said, "thanks," and continued wiping off my car.


He sat there quietly as I worked. The expected plea for money never
came.
As the silence between us widened something inside said, "ask him if
he needs any help." I was sure that he would say "yes" but I held true
to the inner voice.
"Do you need any help?" I asked.
He answered in three simple but profound words that I shall never forget.
We often look for wisdom in great men and women. We expect it from
those of higher learning and accomplishments.

I expected nothing but an
outstretched grimy hand. He spoke the three words that shook me.
"Don't we all?" he said.

I was feeling high and mighty, successful and important, above a bum
in the street, until those three words hit me like a twelve gauge
shotgun.
Don't we all?
I needed help. Maybe not for bus fare or a place to sleep, but I
needed help. I reached in my wallet and gave him not only enough for bus
fare, but enough to get a warm meal and shelter for the day. Those
three little words still ring true. No matter how much you have, no matter
how much you have accomplished, you need help too. No matter how little you
have, no matter how loaded you are with problems, even without money or
a place to sleep, you can give help.

Even if it's just a compliment, you can give that.
You never know when you may see someone that appears to have it all.
They are waiting on you to give them what they don't have. A different
perspective on life, a glimpse at something beautiful, a respite from
daily chaos, that only you through a torn world can see.
Maybe the man was just a homeless stranger wandering the streets. Maybe
he was more than that.

Maybe he was sent by a power that is great and
wise, to minister to a soul too comfortable in themselves.

Maybe God looked down, called an Angel, dressed him like a bum, then said, "go minister to that man cleaning the car, that man needs help."
Don't we all?




My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

BUTTERFLY


A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could, and it could go no further.

So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon.

The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings.

The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time.

Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to fly.

What the man, in his kindness and haste, did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. If God allowed us to go through our lives without any obstacles, it would cripple us.

We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly!

I asked for Strength.........
And God gave me Difficulties to make me strong.

I asked for Wisdom.........
And God gave me Problems to solve.

I asked for Prosperity.........
And God gave me Brain and Brawn to work.

I asked for Courage.........
And God gave me Danger to overcome.

I asked for Love.........
And God gave me Troubled people to help.

I asked for Favors.........
And God gave me Opportunities.

I received nothing I wanted ........
I received everything I needed!

Trust in God. Always !


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

BAMBI


This story takes place once upon a time, a very long time ago, deep in the forest. Now you remember what a forest is don't you? Right, it is a place where there are lots of trees. OK, so in just one tiny part of a forest, a baby deer was born (a baby deer is called a "fawn") Oh my, there was so much excitement that day. All the animals wanted to come and see the new fawn. Do you know why? It is because this was a special fawn. He was a young Prince. That means that one day, this tiny baby, would be all grown up and become the leader of all the deer in the forest. The birds sang the happiest song. "Drip drip drop little April showers" What a beautiful, beautiful Spring day it was.

Thumper, he was a cute little rabbit, asked the mama deer what she was going to call her baby. She smiled and looked down at her son and then at Thumper. " I am going to call him Bambi," she said. Thumper stood there for a moment, thumping his foot. "That's a funny name", he said at last. Thumper's mommy scolded him, very gently, "Thumper", she said, "What did you father tell you this morning?" Thumper hung his head down, just a bit and replied, "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin at all!" And you know, that is really what we should all remember. We should always remember to say nice things about each other.

It was a happy time for Bambi. He soon learned to do many things. Thumper was his very best friend, they did all kinds of fun stuff together. Why, in no time at all Bambi was standing up. Oh yes he was really wobbly at first. Thumper just had to laugh at him. But that was ok because it was a nice kind of laughter, and Bambi did not mind it a bit. Of course he could not understand why Thumper laughed so hard when another animal popped up out of the flowers, and Bambi called him "Flower". It really was funny though, because you see, Flower was a skunk. And skunks are not the sweetest smelling of animals, especially not when they get excited. Oh my, most certainly not when they get excited.

Then one morning, real early, Bambi's mother took him to a wonderful place. It was called "the meadow". What a nice place that was for a young fawn to romp around and have fun. It was there that Bambi met Faline. Faline was very cute to be sure. At first Bambi was a little afraid of her, well, maybe not so much afraid as he was shy. But soon they were racing around and having a grand time chasing one another. When all of a sudden, there was a horrible, loud noise. Like thunder! only louder! All the animals were running very swiftly. They were being led by "The Prince of the Forest" He was very old, and very strong. But he was also very, very wise. He knew he had to lead all the animals in the forest to safety. The one word that would do that was "MAN". Oh yes, all the animals knew that word. They knew it meant there was danger close by. So they did not waste any time, they ran as fast as they could. When it was safe, they all returned to their homes, and Bambi lay comfortably, safe and protected by his mother.

Winter soon came to the forest. At first Bambi had lots of fun. Thumper tried teaching him to slide on the ice, And as Bambi learned, Thumper just watched and laughed till he was rolling on his tummy. Poor Bambi, his four thin legs just went every which way, and down he would go again. Even though it was fun, it was also a hard time for Bambi and all the other animals, because the cold had rid the ground of it's soft green, tender carpet of grass, and sweet tasting flowers. There was little to eat, except tree bark. "BAM" there it was again. The same deafening sound Bambi had heard before. His mother yelled for him to run for the thicket. "Quick" she yelled. Bambi reached the thicket. But...but where was his mother. She had been right behind him, and now... she was not there.

Once again Bambi saw the Great Prince Of The Forest. "Your mother can no longer be with you. You must learn to walk alone." What did that mean. What was the Great Prince telling him. Did he mean Bambi would never see his mother again. Yes, he knew that was what the Great Prince was saying. Bambi was alone.

At last winter left, and spring returned. Everything was green again. Bambi had grown much bigger. He was no longer a fawn , now he was a "Buck". A buck is a male deer, much older than a fawn. As the spring went on to summer, Bambi roamed the forest and the meadow. Until one day he met Faline again. She had grown into a very beautiful graceful doe. Yes, that is what a grown up girl deer is called, a "doe". Just as they were beginning to enjoy being friends again, another buck came charging between them. He did not want Feline to stay with Bambi, he wanted Feline to stay with him. A terrible fight began. They kept charging at each other, bumping their foreheads against the other real hard. Unitl finally, the mean old bully was hurt and limped off all alone. Bambi and Feline walked off into the forest together.

As spring and summer had gone, Autumn arrived in the forest, The trees took on a breathtaking array of colors. And the air had a very special crispness to it. But sadly, all this beauty did not last. For one day Bambi began to smell something. And as he ran to find Feline, The Great Prince came. He told them to run very quickly, for the forest was on fire. Feline raced for protection, as Bambi and the Great Prince ran to warn all the other animals. At last. the fire was over. Bambi, Feline, and the Great Prince looked on at the terrible thing that the fire had done. All the colors were gone. There was a terrible smell of burned wood, and blackend trees. A fire is a terrible thing, it destroys everything it touches. As they stood there, gazing at what remained of the smoldering forest, it was then that the Great Prince told Bambi, that when the forest was green again, he would be very old, and Bambi would have to take his place

At last Spring arrived again. Green leaves, green grass, and wild flowers began to cover up some ot the damage the fire had done. And now do you know what was happening. All the animals were running to see. Not one new fawn, but two of them. They were cuddled next to their mother, Feline. And where was Bambi, why he was high on a hillside, looking down. His chest was puffed out, and he was standing there as proud as he could be. For not only was he a new father, but now Bambi was the new Prince of the Forest.


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Dragon Rock

This story begins with Once Upon A Time, because the best stories do, of course.

So, Once Upon A Time, and imagine if you can, a steep sided valley cluttered with giant, spiky green pine trees and thick, green grass that reaches to the top of your socks so that when you run, you have to bring your knees up high, like running through water. Wildflowers spread their sweet heady perfume along the gentle breezes and bees hum musically to themselves as they cheerily collect flower pollen.

People are very happy here and they work hard, keeping their houses spick and span and their children's faces clean.

This particular summer had been very hot and dry, making the lean farm dogs sleepy and still. Farmers whistled lazily to themselves and would stand and stare into the distance, trying to remember what it was that they were supposed to be doing. By two o'clock in the afternoon, the town would be in a haze of slumber, with grandmas nodding off over their knitting and farmers snoozing in the haystacks. It was very, very hot.

No matter how hot the day, however, the children would always play in the gentle, rolling meadows. With wide brimmed hats and skin slippery with sun block, they chittered and chattered like sparrows, as they frolicked in their favourite spot.

Now, their favourite spot is very important to this story because in this particular spot is a large, long, scaly rock that looks amazingly similar to a sleeping dragon.
The children knew it was a dragon.
The grown ups knew it was a dragon.
The dogs and cats and birds knew it was a dragon.
But nobody was scared because it never, ever moved.

The boys and girls would clamber all over it, poking sticks at it and hanging wet gumboots on its ears but it didn't mind in the least. The men folk would sometimes chop firewood on its zigzagged tail because it was just the right height and the Ladies Weaving Group often spun sheep fleece on its spikes.

Often on a cool night, when the stars were twinkling brightly in a velvet sky and the children peacefully asleep, the grown ups would settle for the evening with a mug of steaming cocoa in a soft cushioned armchair. Then the stories about How The Dragon Got There began. Nobody knew for sure, there were many different versions depending on which family told the tale, but one thing that everybody agreed on, was this:


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

[FONT="Comic Sans MS"]
In Times of Trouble
The Dragon will Wake
And Free the Village
By making a Lake

This little poem was etched into everybody's minds and sometimes appeared on tea towels and grandma's embroidery.

The days went by slowly, quietly and most importantly, without any rain. There had been no rain in the valley for as long as the children could remember. The wells were starting to bring up muddy brown water and clothes had to be washed in yesterday's dishwater. The lawns had faded to a crisp biscuit colour and the flowers drooped their beautiful heads. Even the trees seemed to hang their branches like weary arms. The valley turned browner and drier and thirstier, every hot, baking day.

The townsfolk grew worried and would murmur to each other when passing with much shaking of heads and tut tuts. They would look upwards searching for rain clouds in the blue, clear sky, but none ever came.

"The tale of the Dragon cannot be true," said old Mrs Greywhistle, the shopkeeper.
"It hasn't moved an inch, I swear," replied her customer, tapping an angry foot.

It was now too hot for the children to play out in the direct sun and they would gather under the shade of the trees, digging holes in the dust and snapping brittle twigs.
"The Dragon will help us soon," said one child.
"He must do Something," agreed another.
"I'm sure he will."
They all nodded in agreement.

A week went by with no change, the people struggling along as best they could. Some were getting cross at the Dragon and would cast angry, sideways looks at it when passing. The villagers were becoming skinny eyed and sullen.

Meanwhile, the children had a plan.
Quickly and quietly, they moved invisibly around town, picking and plucking at the fading flowers. With outstretched arms and bouquets up to their chins, they rustled over to where the giant rock lay, as still as ever.

The boys and girls placed bunches of flowers around the Dragon in a big circle. They scattered petals around its head and over its nose, then danced around and around it, skipping and chanting the rhyme that they all knew so well.

In Times of Trouble
The Dragon Will Wake
And Save the Village
By making a Lake.

The searing heat made them dizzy and fuzzy and finally they all fell in a sprawling heap at the bottom of the mound. They looked up at the rock.

Nothing happened.

A dry wind lazily picked up some flower heads and swirled them around. The air was thick with pollen and perfume. A stony grey nostril twitched.
"I saw something," cried the youngest boy.
They stared intently.
An ear swiveled like a periscope.
The ground began to rumble.
"Look out! Run!Run!"

The children scampered in all directions, shrieking and squealing, arms pumping with excitement.
The rumbling grew and grew.
The Dragon raised its sleepy head. It got onto its front feet and sat like a dog. It stood up and stretched, arching its long scaly back like a sleek tabby cat. It blinked and looked around with big kind, long lashed eyes.
And then its nostrils twitched and quivered again.
The older folk were alerted by the screams and shrieks. The ladies held up their long skirts to run and the men rolled their sleeves up and soon the whole town stood together in a tight huddle at the foot of the hill, staring up at the large beast with mouths held open.
"AHHHHH AAHHHHHHHHH!!"
The noise erupted from the Dragon.
"AHHHHH AAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
The families gripped each other tighter and shut their eyes.
"AHHHHH CHOOOOOOOOO!!"
The sneeze blasted from the Dragon like a rocket, throwing it back fifty paces, causing a whirlwind of dust and dirt.
"AHHHHH CHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

The second blast split open the dry earth, sending explosions of soil and tree roots high into the sky like missiles, and something else too ...

The people heard the sound but couldn't recognize it at first for it had been such a long time since their ears had heard such tinkling melody. As their eyes widened in wonder, their smiles turned into grins and then yahoos and hoorahs.

Water, cold, clear spring water, oozed, then trickled, then roared out of the hole, down the hillside and along the valley floor.

The torrent knocked over a farmer's haystack, but he didn't care.
The river carried away the schoolteacher's bike shed but she cared not a jot. It even demolished the Ladies Bowling Club changing rooms but they howled with laughter and slapped their thighs. When the flood sent pools of water out towards the golf course, filling up sixteen of the nineteen holes, the men just hooted and whistled and threw their caps up in the air. [/FONT


What used to be a dirty, brown dust bowl, now gleamed and glistened in the sunlight, sending playful waves and ripples across the lake and inviting all to share.

"HMMMMM," sighed the Dragon sleepily, and showing his perfect movie star teeth. "Seeing as I'm awake ..."
And he lumbered forward with surprising grace and style and disappeared into the cool dark water with a small wave of a claw and flick of his tail.

They never saw him again.

After the families had restored and rebuilt the village, and set up sailing clubs for the children, and scuba diving for the grandparents, they erected a bandstand and monument in the spot where the Dragon used to lay. Every year to mark the occasion, they would bring garlands of flowers and herbs and arrange them in a big circle. The children would have the day off school, for it was known as 'Water Dragon Day' and wearing the dragon masks that they had been working on all week, would skip and clap and sing.

The Dragon helped Us
As We said He would Do
Hooray for The Dragon
Achoo, Achoo, ACHOOOO!

And that is the end of the story.

My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

JACK SELLS THE COW


ONCE upon a time there was a poor widow who lived in a little cottage with her only son Jack.

Jack was a giddy, thoughtless boy, but very kind-hearted and affectionate. There had been a hard winter, and after it the poor woman had suffered from fever and ague. Jack did no work as yet, and by degrees they grew dreadfully poor.

The widow saw that there was no means of keeping Jack and herself from starvation but by selling her cow; so one morning she said to her son, `I am too weak to go myself, Jack, so you must take the cow to market for me, and sell her.'


Jack liked going to market to sell the cow very much; but as he was on the way, he met a butcher who had some beautiful beans in his hand. Jack stopped to look at them, and the butcher told the boy that they were of great value, and persuaded the silly lad to sell the cow for these beans.

When he brought them home to his mother instead of the money she expected for her nice cow, she was very vexed and shed many tears, scolding Jack for his folly. He was very sorry, and mother and son went to bed very sadly that night; their last hope seemed gone.

At daybreak Jack rose and went out into the garden.

`At least,' he thought, `I will sow the wonderful beans. Mother says that they are just common scarlet-runners, and nothing else; but I may as well sow them.'
So he took a piece of stick, and made some holes in the ground, and put in the beans.



That day they had very little dinner, and went sadly to bed, knowing that for the next day there would be none and Jack, unable to sleep from grief and vexation, got up at day-dawn and went out into the garden.

What was his amazement to find that the beans had grown up in the night, and climbed up and up till they covered the high cliff that sheltered the cottage, and disappeared above it! The stalks had twined and twisted themselves together till they formed quite a ladder.

`It would be easy to climb it,' thought Jack.
And, having thought of the experiment, he at once resolved to carry it out, for Jack was a good climber. However, after his late mistake about the cow, he thought he had better consult his mother first.

WONDERFUL GROWTH OF THE BEANSTALK
So Jack called his mother, and they both gazed in silent wonder at the Beanstalk, which was not only of great height, but was thick enough to bear Jack's weight.



`I wonder where it ends,' said Jack to his mother; `I think I will climb up and see.'
His mother wished him not to venture up this strange ladder, but Jack coaxed her to give her consent to the attempt, for he was certain there must be something wonderful in the Beanstalk; so at last she yielded to his wishes.
Jack instantly began to climb, and went up and up on the ladder- like bean till everything he had left behind him--the cottage, the village, and even the tall church tower--looked quite little, and still he could not see the top of the Beanstalk.
Jack felt a little tired, and thought for a moment that he would go back again; but he was a very persevering boy, and he knew that the way to succeed in anything is not to give up. So after resting for a moment he went on.


After climbing higher and higher, till he grew afraid to look down for fear he should be giddy, Jack at last reached the top of the Beanstalk, and found himself in a beautiful country, finely wooded, with beautiful meadows covered with sheep. A crystal stream ran through the pastures; not far from the place where he had got off the Beanstalk stood a fine, strong castle.
Jack wondered very much that he had never heard of or seen this castle before; but when he reflected on the subject, he saw that it was as much separated from the village by the perpendicular rock on which it stood as if it were in another land.
While Jack was standing looking at the castle, a very strange- looking woman came out of the wood, and advanced towards him.
She wore a pointed cap of quilted red satin turned up with ermine, her hair streamed loose over her shoulders, and she walked with a staff. Jack took off his cap and made her a bow.
`If you please, ma'am,' said he, `is this your house?'
`No,' said the old lady. `Listen, and I will tell you the story of that castle.
`Once upon a time there was a noble knight, who lived in this castle, which is on the borders of Fairyland. He had a fair and beloved wife and several lovely children: and as his neighbours, the little people, were very friendly towards him, they bestowed on him many excellent and precious gifts.

`Rumour whispered of these treasures; and a monstrous giant, who lived at no great distance, and who was a very wicked being, resolved to obtain possession of them.



`So he bribed a false servant to let him inside the castle, when the knight was in bed and asleep, and he killed him as he lay.
`Happily for her, the lady was not to be found. She had gone with her infant son, who was only two or three months old, to visit her old nurse, who lived in the valley; and she had been detained all night there by a storm.
`The next morning, as soon as it was light, one of the servants at the castle, who had managed to escape, came to tell the poor lady of the sad fate of her husband. She could scarcely believe him at first, and was eager at once to go back and share the fate of her dear one; but the old nurse, with many tears, besought her to remember that she had still a child, and that it was her duty to preserve her life for the sake of the poor innocent.
`The lady yielded to this reasoning, and consented to remain at her nurse's house as the best place of concealment; for the servant told her that the giant had vowed, if he could find her, he would kill both her and her baby. Years rolled on. The old nurse died, leaving her cottage and the few articles of furniture it contained to her poor lady, who dwelt in it, working as a peasant for her daily bread. Her spinning-wheel and the milk of a cow, which she had purchased with the little money she had with her, sufficed for the scanty subsistence of herself and her little son. There was a nice little garden attached to the cottage, in which they cultivated peas, beans, and cabbages, and the lady was not ashamed to go out at harvest time, and glean in the fields to supply her little son's wants.
`Jack, that poor lady is your mother. This castle was once your father's, and must again be yours.'
Jack uttered a cry of surprise.
`My mother! oh, madam, what ought I to do? My poor father! My dear mother!'
`Your duty requires you to win it back for your mother. But the task is a very difficult one, and full of peril, Jack. Have you courage to undertake it?' .


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

`I fear nothing when I am doing right,' said Jack.
`Then,' said the lady in the red cap, `you are one of those who slay giants. You must get into the castle, and if possible possess yourself of a hen that lays golden eggs, and a harp that talks. Remember, all the giant possesses is really yours.' As she ceased speaking, the lady of the red hat suddenly disappeared, and of course Jack knew she was a fairy.
Jack determined at once to attempt the adventure; so he advanced, and blew the horn which hung at the castle portal. The door was opened in a minute or two by a frightful giantess, with one great eye in the middle of her forehead.
As soon as Jack saw her he turned to run away, but she caught him, and dragged him into the castle.
`Ho, ho!' she laughed terribly. `You didn't expect to see me here, that is clear! No, I shan't let you go again. I am weary of my life. I am so overworked, and I don't see why I should not have a page as well as other ladies. And you shall be my boy. You shall clean the knives, and black the boots, and make the fires, and help me generally when the giant is out. When he is at home I must hide you, for he has eaten up all my pages hitherto, and you would be a dainty morsel, my little lad.'
While she spoke she dragged Jack right into the castle. The poor boy was very much frightened, as I am sure you and I would have been in his place. But he remembered that fear disgraces a man; so he struggled to be brave and make the best of things.
`I am quite ready to help you, and do all I can to serve you, madam,' he said, `only I beg you will be good enough to hide me from your husband, for I should not like to be eaten at all.'
`That's a good boy,' said the Giantess, nodding her head; `it is lucky for you that you did not scream out when you saw me, as the other boys who have been here did, for if you had done so my husband would have awakened and have eaten you, as he did them, for breakfast. Come here, child; go into my wardrobe: he never ventures to open THAT; you will be safe there.'
And she opened a huge wardrobe which stood in the great hall, and shut him into it. But the keyhole was so large that it ad- mitted plenty of air, and he could see everything that took place through it. By-and-by he heard a heavy tramp on the stairs, like the lumbering along of a great cannon, and then a voice like thunder cried out;
`Fe, fa, fi-fo-fum, I smell the breath of an Englishman. Let him be alive or let him be dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.'

`Wife,' cried the Giant, `there is a man in the castle. Let me have him for breakfast.'
`You are grown old and stupid,' cried the lady in her loud tones. `It is only a nice fresh steak off an elephant, that I have cooked for you, which you smell. There, sit down and make a good breakfast.'
And she placed a huge dish before him of savoury steaming meat, which greatly pleased him, and made him forget his idea of an Englishman being in the castle. When he had breakfasted he went out for a walk; and then the Giantess opened the door, and made Jack come out to help her. He helped her all day. She fed him well, and when evening came put him back in the wardrobe.
THE HEN THAT LAYS GOLDEN EGG
The Giant came in to supper. Jack watched him through the keyhole, and was amazed to see him pick a wolf's bone, and put half a fowl at a time into his capacious mouth.
When the supper was ended he bade his wife bring him his hen that laid the golden eggs.
`It lays as well as it did when it belonged to that paltry knight,' he said; `indeed I think the eggs are heavier than ever.'
The Giantess went away, and soon returned with a little brown hen, which she placed on the table before her husband. `And now, my dear,' she said, `I am going for a walk, if you don't want me any longer.'
`Go,' said the Giant; `I shall be glad to have a nap by-and-by.'
Then he took up the brown hen and said to her:
`Lay!' And she instantly laid a golden egg.
`Lay!' said the Giant again. And she laid another.
`Lay!' he repeated the third time. And again a golden egg lay on the table.
Now Jack was sure this hen was that of which the fairy had spoken.
By-and-by the Giant put the hen down on the floor, and soon after went fast asleep, snoring so loud that it sounded like thunder.
Directly Jack perceived that the Giant was fast asleep, he pushed open the door of the wardrobe and crept out; very softly he stole across the room, and, picking up the hen, made haste to quit the apartment. He knew the way to the kitchen, the door of which he found was left ajar; he opened it, shut and locked it after him, and flew back to the Beanstalk, which he descended as fast as his feet would move.
When his mother saw him enter the house she wept for joy, for she had feared that the fairies had carried him away, or that the Giant had found him. But Jack put the brown hen down before her, and told her how he had been in the Giant's castle, and all his adventures. She was very glad to see the hen, which would make them rich once more.
THE MONEY BAGS.
Jack made another journey up the Beanstalk to the Giant's castle one day while his mother had gone to market; but first he dyed his hair and disguised himself. The old woman did not know him again, and dragged him in as she had done before, to help her to do the work; but she heard her husband coming, and hid him in the wardrobe, not thinking that it was the same boy who had stolen the hen. She bade him stay quite still there, or the Giant would eat him.
Then the Giant came in saying:
`Fe, fa, fi-fo-fum, I smell the breath of an Englishman. Let him be alive or let him be dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.'
`Nonsense!' said the wife, `it is only a roasted bullock that I thought would be a tit-bit for your supper; sit down and I will bring it up at once.' The Giant sat down, and soon his wife brought up a roasted bullock on a large dish, and they began their supper. Jack was amazed to see them pick the bones of the bullock as if it had been a lark. As soon as they had finished their meal, the Giantess rose and said:
`Now, my dear, with your leave I am going up to my room to finish the story I am reading. If you want me call for me.'
`First,' answered the Giant, `bring me my money bags, that I may count my golden pieces before I sleep.' The Giantess obeyed. She went and soon returned with two large bags over her shoulders, which she put down by her husband.
`There,' she said; `that is all that is left of the knight's money. When you have spent it you must go and take another baron's castle.'
`That he shan't, if I can help it,' thought Jack.
The Giant, when his wife was gone, took out heaps and heaps of golden pieces, and counted them, and put them in piles, till he was tired of the amusement. Then he swept them all back into their bags, and leaning back in his chair fell fast asleep, snoring so loud that no other sound was audible.
Jack stole softly out of the wardrobe, and taking up the bags of money (which were his very own, because the Giant had stolen them from his father), he ran off, and with great difficulty descending the Beanstalk, laid the bags of gold on his mother's table. She had just returned from town, and was crying at not finding Jack.
`There, mother, I have brought you the gold that my father lost.'
`Oh, Jack! you are a very good boy, but I wish you would not risk your precious life in the Giant's castle. Tell me how you came to go there again.'
And Jack told her all about it.
Jack's mother was very glad to get the money, but she did not like him to run any risk for her.
But after a time Jack made up his mind to go again to the Giant's castle.
THE TALKING HARP.
So he climbed the Beanstalk once more, and blew the horn at the Giant's gate. The Giantess soon opened the door; she was very stupid, and did not know him again, but she stopped a minute before she took him in. She feared another robbery; but Jack's fresh face looked so innocent that she could not resist him, and so she bade him come in, and again hid him away in the wardrobe.
By-and-by the Giant came home, and as soon as he had crossed the threshold he roared out:
`Fe, fa, fi-fo-fum, I smell the breath of an Englishman. Let him be alive or let him be dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.'
`You stupid old Giant,' said his wife, `you only smell a nice sheep, which I have grilled for your dinner.'
And the Giant sat down, and his wife brought up a whole sheep for his dinner. When he had eaten it all up, he said:
`Now bring me my harp, and I will have a little music while you take your walk.'
The Giantess obeyed, and returned with a beautiful harp. The framework was all sparkling with diamonds and rubies, and the strings were all of gold.
`This is one of the nicest things I took from the knight,' said the Giant. `I am very fond of music, and my harp is a faithful servant.'
So he drew the harp towards him, and said:
`Play!
And the harp played a very soft, sad air.
`Play something merrier!' said the Giant.
And the harp played a merry tune.
`Now play me a lullaby,' roared the Giant; and the harp played a sweet lullaby, to the sound of which its master fell asleep.
Then Jack stole softly out of the wardrobe, and went into the huge kitchen to see if the Giantess had gone out; he found no one there, so he went to the door and opened it softly, for he thought he could not do so with the harp in his hand.
Then he entered the Giant's room and seized the harp and ran away with it; but as he jumped over the threshold the harp called out:
`MASTER! MASTER!'
And the Giant woke up.
With a tremendous roar he sprang from his seat, and in two strides had reached the door.
But Jack was very nimble. He fled like lightning with the harp, talking to it as he went (for he saw it was a fairy), and telling it he was the son of its old master, the knight.
Still the Giant came on so fast that he was quite close to poor Jack, and had stretched out his great hand to catch him. But, luckily, just at that moment he stepped upon a loose stone, stumbled, and fell flat on the ground, where he lay at his full length.
This accident gave Jack time to get on the Beanstalk and hasten down it; but just as he reached their own garden he beheld the Giant descending after him.
`Mother I mother!' cried Jack, `make haste and give me the axe.'
His mother ran to him with a hatchet in her hand, and Jack with one tremendous blow cut through all the Beanstalks except one.
`Now, mother, stand out of the way!' said he.

THE END OF THE GIANT

Jack's mother shrank back, and it was well she did so, for just as the Giant took hold of the last branch of the Beanstalk, Jack cut the stem quite through and darted from the spot.
Down came the Giant with a terrible crash, and as he fell on his head, he broke his neck, and lay dead at the feet of the woman he had so much injured.
Before Jack and his mother had recovered from their alarm and agitation, a beautiful lady stood before them.
`Jack,' said she, `you have acted like a brave knight's son, and deserve to have your inheritance restored to you. Dig a grave and bury the Giant, and then go and kill the Giantess.'
`But,' said Jack, `I could not kill anyone unless I were fighting with him; and I could not draw my sword upon a woman. Moreover, the Giantess was very kind to me.'
The Fairy smiled on Jack.
`I am very much pleased with your generous feeling,' she said. `Nevertheless, return to the castle, and act as you will find needful.'
Jack asked the Fairy if she would show him the way to the castle, as the Beanstalk was now down. She told him that she would drive him there in her chariot, which was drawn by two peacocks. Jack thanked her, and sat down in the chariot with her.
The Fairy drove him a long distance round, till they reached a village which lay at the bottom of the hill. Here they found a number of miserable-looking men assembled. The Fairy stopped her carriage and addressed them:
`My friends,' said she, `the cruel giant who oppressed you and ate up all your flocks and herds is dead, and this young gentleman was the means of your being delivered from him, and is the son of your kind old master, the knight.'
The men gave a loud cheer at these words, and pressed forward to say that they would serve Jack as faithfully as they had served his father. The Fairy bade them follow her to the castle, and they marched thither in a body, and Jack blew the horn and demanded admittance.
The old Giantess saw them coming from the turret loop-hole. She was very much frightened, for she guessed that something had happened to her husband; and as she came downstairs very fast she caught her foot in her dress, and fell from the top to the bottom and broke her neck.
When the people outside found that the door was not opened to them, they took crowbars and forced the portal. Nobody was to be seen, but on leaving the hall they found the body of the Giantess at the foot of the stairs.
Thus Jack took possession of the castle. The Fairy went and brought his mother to him, with the hen and the harp. He had the Giantess buried, and endeavoured as much as lay in his power to do right to those whom the Giant had robbed.
Before her departure for fairyland, the Fairy explained to Jack that she had sent the butcher to meet him with the beans, in order to try what sort of lad he was.
If you had looked at the gigantic Beanstalk and only stupidly wondered about it,' she said, `I should have left you where misfortune had placed you, only restoring her cow to your mother. But you showed an inquiring mind, and great courage and enterprise, therefore you deserve to rise; and when you mounted the Beanstalk you climbed the Ladder of Fortune.'
She then took her leave of Jack and his mother


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Laugh and Play



"Come and have a game at soldiers, Dulcie."

"I can't, Harold; don't you see I'm busy?"

"Busy writing rubbish! How you can be so silly as to waste your time like that I can't think. It isn't as if you really could write poetry, and I call it downright conceited for a girl to pretend she can. So, do leave off, there's a dear, and come and have a game. I want to try my new cannon, and you shall have first shot if you will come."
But Dulcie was offended. A week ago she had written a verse about Harold's dog, and father had said it was very good and had given her sixpence for writing it. Since then she had spent most of her spare time trying to write other verses, but this afternoon she was beginning to get a little tired of being a poetess and to long for a good game.

When Harold suggested soldiers, she really wanted to play, for she was almost as fond of boys' games as her brother was; but she thought it sounded grand to pretend she was busy. Then when Harold called her silly and conceited she grew angry and sulked.
"Do come, Dulcie; don't be cross!"

"Go away, you rude boy," replied Dulcie.

Harold tried coaxing for a little while longer, and then he went away and left his sister alone in the school-room. It was very lonely there, and before five minutes had passed Dulcie heartily regretted that she had refused Harold's offer.

"But he was horrid," she said, "and anyway he is miserable too; he can't bear playing alone."

Harold, however, was anything but miserable, for, on peeping out of the window, Dulcie saw him in the next-door garden helping the children there to make a big snow-man. He was laughing and shouting, and had evidently forgotten all about her.

A lump seemed to have suddenly risen in her throat, and as she crept back to the table two big tears fell splashing down upon the poem she had been trying to write and blotted out some of the words; then down went her head upon the paper, and in another moment she was sobbing pitifully.


It was almost dark when Harold came running up to the school-room, and, bursting open the door, cried cheerily: "Such a lark, Dulcie; just listen. Hullo," he added, "what's the matter?"


In another moment his arm was round his sister's neck and she was rubbing her tear-stained cheek against his cold rosy one.

"O, Harold," she sobbed, "I've been so miserable. I'm sorry I was so disagreeable."

"Never mind; is that all you're crying about? Well, I was horrid too: I teased you when you were writing, and I daresay your poetry is clever."

"No, it isn't," said Dulcie; "it's as stupid as stupid can be, and I'll never try to write a piece again," and with that she picked up the offending paper and dropped it into the fire.

Harold gave her a brotherly hug, for he really was glad Dulcie had come to this decision, for he had found her new accomplishment a little trying at times.

"But I haven't told you my news yet," he said. "I've been playing with the Grahams all the afternoon, and Mrs. Graham came out just now and has invited us to go there to tea and have a good game afterwards, and Tom told me there was to be a Christmas-tree. So come along and let's tell nurse, for it's time to get ready."

O, what a good time the children had that evening, and how they did laugh and play! Dulcie was amongst the merriest there, and when she and Harold went home that night, laden with toys from the Christmas-tree, she said: "Wasn't I a silly girl to sit and cry and be miserable this afternoon, when I might have been so happy?"


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

This is the story of Nestor the Long Earred Donkey

When Nestor was a little donkey all the other donkeys laughed at him because of his very long ears. His mother was always saying "Ears Nestor"! One day the owner put Nestor out into the cold and snowy night. Well, I mean to tell you, Nestor's mother became very upset, and caused a big scene. She kicked and brayed and darted right out of that shelter. Yes, she left the warmth of the stable to find and protect her son.

When at last she did find him, (She saw his ears sticking up out of a snow bank) she laid her body over Nestor to protect him from the cold. At last the storm passed and the sun came out, but poor Nestor had no mommy, she had given up her life to save her son.

Poor Nestor began to cry, he just wandered around with no place to go and no one to love him.

One day, when he was really lonely and feeling sorry for himself, do you know what happened? A little cherub who's name was Tille, came right down out of the sky. She sure took Nestor by surprise. Tille was sent to make sure Nestor got wherever it was that God wanted him to go. This puzzled Nestor, because he could not imagine what good he could be to anyone. But Tille said:

"Your ears can do a wondrous thing
No other ears can do
The sounds they hear will guide you
On a path that's straight and true
And you will save another
As your mother once saved you."

They had a long journey ahead of them. For Nestor had to go to a place called Bethlehem. That was far away. Nestor and Tille had lots of fun. They played in deep cold snow drifts, frolicked in the *******ing cool rain, and danced through green, sweet smelling meadows. They trudged up mountain sides, and floated across the waters as the seasons passed and they got closer and closer. The animals on the way laughed at Nestor, but he did not care anymore, for he had found a friend. He had found someone who loved him.

All of a sudden, WHAM! Tille told Nestor she had to leave him, to go home, but she would return. Nestor didn't understand at all. Tlhey were not at Bethlehem, how would he get there without her? Tille smiled, and said,

"You will know when the time is right. And I will come back then"

So Nestor was alone again. He was taken in by a merchant, a dealer in animals, and given a place in his stables. Oh yes, the other animals laughed and made jokes about his long ears.

"Look at little Nestor
He has ears that drag the ground
They whispered as they mocked him
But he heard every sound.
Nestor's heart was broken
His eyes were full of tears
If only there was something
He could do about his ears.

Poor Nestor wanted Tille back so badly. He could not stand this new lonliness much longer. But wait! There was someone at the stable door! No, not someone, there were two someones, a man and a woman. The woman looked so very tired. Carefully they looked over the animals, and YEP! you got it! They chose Nestor over all the other animals there. Of course Nestor did not even think of his ears. He was someone special. He was chosen. The inn keeper felt sorry for Mary and Joseph and gave the little donkey to them. At last Nestor was on the way to Bethlehem again.

But it was a hard journey. The nights were bitter and Nestor's ears had to wrap around the tired one who sat on his back, to protect her. Then a terrible, terrible windstorm came up, and they lost sight of the star they were following. Oh dear, what were they to do. Nestor's ears shot straight up. He thought he heard something. He did, He heard Tille. And in a glowing vision he saw her:

"Your ears can do a wondrous thing
No other ears can do
The sounds they hear will guide you
On a path that's straight and true
And you will save another
As your mother once saved you."

And even more wondrous, he saw his mother. She smiled at him and told him to follow the song of the angels. Tears fell from Nestor's eyes as he promised he would follow, and he heard his mother's voice "Ears Nestor".

Nestor had a secret
Only he could hear the sound
As the angels gave directions
To the ears that dragged the ground

This was a new, proud Nestor. For he knew that on his back was a very special person, and he had been chosen for a very special reason. He had been chosen because his long ears could hear directions, and could also shelter Mary from the wind and cold. Oh yes, Nestor walked very proudly. And he did not even mind it when he would hear: Ears Nestor.

At last they arrived in Bethlehem, and since there was not a room to be had anywhere, Nestor found them a cozy place in a stable, where they would be warm and protected. He had done his job well.

And so it was that Nestor
Found the manger where they stayed
Where kings and wisemen bowed before
A baby where he layed
Mary bore our Saviour
Nestor brought them there
A gift of love from God above
For all the world to share.

Now the animals were singing a new song. They didn't laugh at Nestor anymore, for news got around of how his long ears had saved Mary and her newborn baby. They became his friends, and froliced and played and sang of his praises.

Look at little Nestor
He's got ears that drag the ground
They shouted as they praised him
And his friends all gathered round
Nestor's heart was happy
His eyes held no more tears
Now all the world knows Nestor
For his lughter and his ears.

EARS, NESTOR!


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Elder Tree

There was a fascinating little stream just at the other side of the low wall that bounded the garden, and this stream had more attractions for Sydney than anything else about the holiday home.


It was not for its cool murmuring sound that Sydney liked it, nor for its crystal clearness—though he must have felt the charm of all this during those hot August days. He had found a beautiful place where he could put a water-wheel, and he was as busy as he could be planning and making one. He had his little box of tools with him, and it was easy to get pieces of wood; and for the rest Sydney's cleverness in "making things" was well known to his sisters and brother, and held in great reverence by them. They never "meddled," and so were graciously allowed to come and admire.
"O, bother!" exclaimed Sydney, "here's this little plague! You can't come here, Walter," he called out. "Go back to the garden and play there."


But little Walter had already climbed over the loose stones and was running towards the stream.

Sydney jumped up from the ground and went to meet him.

"Did you hear, Walter?" said he; "go back and play. I don't want you here."

"O, please, Sydney," said a pleading voice, as a pair of childish blue eyes were lifted up to the face of the elder boy, "I do want to see the water-mill! I won't touch it—I promise."

"You won't get the chance," said Sydney roughly. "Just you go back when you're told. You've got Madge and Johnny to play with."

"But Madge doesn't make water-wheels, and I'm tired of her play, and Johnny is indoors. Do let me watch you, Sydney!"

But all Sydney's answer was to take the little boy by the shoulders and march him back to the wall. He felt very angry.

"Now, look here, Walter," he said, "in that elder-bush there lives a ghost that comes out sometimes. I think you'd better keep away from it, for you're the sort of chap that would be caught."


Sydney, seeing the sudden fear in the child's face as he turned his eyes towards the elder-tree, thought he had hit on a very happy plan for keeping Walter away.

"I've given him a fright," said he, as he went back to where his sisters were sitting by the edge of the stream. "I've told him there's a ghost in that tree. He won't come past it in a hurry."

Loo laughed, but Lena said: "He'll really believe it, Sydney. He's such a nervous sort of a child."

"I want him to believe it," said Sydney. "He's such an inquisitive little chap that he'd have been coming down here to see my wheel when I wasn't about. I don't know what mother asked him for. He's a perfect nuisance."

"Mother wants us to be kind to him," said Lena; "you know she said so. Poor little thing! He hasn't got a mother, and he's always left with servants now."

"The best place for him," exclaimed Sydney. "Why should he bother us and spoil our holiday?"

"He's a stupid little thing," said Loo.

Lena was silent. "He's not like other children," she said, after a minute, "but how can he be? Mother says he has never had any jolly times or any children to play with."

"O, well," said Sydney carelessly, "he's got Madge and Johnny now, and that ought to be enough." And then he forgot all about Walter in the interest of fixing his wheel.

Meanwhile Walter went slowly back again through the garden, his heart full of bitter disappointment. He did so want to see that wheel! He had been dreaming about it all night, for he had known that it was to be fixed and tried the next day. He had been watching for an opportunity ever since Sydney and his sisters had gone to the stream. It came when nurse went indoors with Johnny, and Madge got sulky and buried herself in a picture-book. That was the moment when he stole away unobserved. If only he could have had one peep! He wouldn't have touched it, not for the world; he only wanted to look at the wonderful thing, and to see if he could perhaps make one some day. He would like to try now, but he was not allowed to have a knife, and he did not know where to get wood. Then when he went home there would be no stream and no new sorts of play.

Just then he heard Madge calling him.

"Come here and play, Walter," she said. "I'll be a bear among the trees and I'll run out and catch you."

"I don't like that game, Madge," said he; "you roar so loud and then I think it really is a bear."

"You baby!" said she. "Well, Johnny and nurse will play and you can run away."

No, he could not do that. He would play too, and try to remember all the time that it was only Madge roaring among the trees and not really a bear.

The next day it happened that there was a large picnic party, to which all the elders were invited, including Sydney, Loo, and Lena. So the three younger children, with nurse and Baby and the other servants, had it all to themselves. It was rather a dull day, Walter thought. He was thinking about the wheel and wondering if it was turning merrily in the stream, or if Sydney had put it away. He would have given worlds to go and see, but he never got the chance. When the children went to the kitchen garden it was to walk round with nurse.

Johnny was bemoaning that strawberries were over, and Madge was looking vainly for gooseberries on the trees that had long ago been stripped. But Walter cast furtive glances at the thick elder-bush by the wall, and shivered a little inside when he thought of what Sydney had told him about it.


Directly after that they went indoors to have supper and go to bed. As they were undressing it was discovered that Madge had lost a coral necklace she had on. It was a fancy of her mother's that Madge should always wear this, as it was a present from a dead godmother, and the question now was where it had been dropped.

"She had it on at the gooseberry-bushes," said Walter, "for I saw it."

Nurse was just then undressing Johnny.

"You can run down the garden and look for it, Master Walter," said she. "It gets dark so fast I shan't be able to see by the time I've got you all in bed."

Madge was already in her dressing-gown, and in spite of much entreaty was not allowed to go.

So away went Walter full of importance, for the moment quite forgetting where he was going. But scarcely had he got outside the door when he remembered the dreadful tree, and fear took possession of him.

How could he go? He would have to pass the elder-bush if he went all round the path where they had walked with nurse. Dare he do it?

But if he went back the others would laugh at him and call him a baby. He could not stand that. He was not a baby, but a boy who would one day be a man and do great deeds. So he went on. Trying hard not to think of the elder-bush, Walter went bravely along, looking for the necklace. But still he could not help knowing that he was getting nearer to the dreaded spot. O, if he could but see those pink beads he would seize them and run!


He saw them at last, when he had nearly reached the tree. With mingled joy and fear he took a step forward and stopped to pick up the necklace when suddenly there was a rustling sound among the elder-branches and a hand reached out to part them, a hand belonging to a white figure. That was all Walter knew. With a cry of terror he rushed forward, not looking[10] where he was going. Then he tripped and fell, and lay quite still. He was still unconscious when, an hour later, Sydney's mother bent over him anxiously. He had struck his head on the stones bordering the path, and there was waiting till the doctor came to know the extent of the injury.

Nurse told how the little boy had gone to look for Madge's necklace, and cook explained how she had been gathering elder-berries to make wine and, hearing footsteps, had come out from the thick branches. Just as she saw Master Walter he gave a scream and ran away as if frightened. But what could have terrified him she could not think.


Sydney looked at his mother's distressed face and at the little figure lying on the bed. He knew what had made Walter afraid, and he did not like afterwards to think of what he felt during the half-hour before the doctor came.

"But I never thought, mother," said he, "that he would be frightened at that."

His mother was too anxious to say much just then, and Sydney's conscience spoke instead. "You did want to make him afraid," it said, "knowing he was a small and timid boy." And Sydney knew that this was the truth.

AWalter got better after a time, and his little heart was made glad by the kindness of all around. Even Sydney came and worked beside him, explaining all the improvements and extensions of the water-wheel. But the little boy did not know all that was in Sydney's mind, for it could not be spoken. But Sydney's unspoken thought was the stirring of true manliness within him. It was the determination to remember that those who were not so strong and big as himself needed all the more his consideration and gentleness. And he did remember that all his life.



My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Cousin Charlie's Visit


"I have a surprise for you, dears," said mother, coming into the nursery one morning, followed by a bright-looking boy about ten years of age. "Here is your Cousin Charlie come to spend the day with you."

Dolly and May were delighted, and Mother said they might stay out all the morning. For the first hour they were very happy—there were so many new things to show Charlie; but he was one of those restless boys who get tired of everything very quickly.

"What shall we do next?" he kept saying. They tried hunting for eggs in the barn, but he soon called that "slow."

"Let's go and pick blackberries in the upper field," said little May.

So they started off and had only picked a very little while when Charlie suddenly asked: "Whose orchard is that just across the next field?"

"It's Farmer Giles's," said Dolly.

"Let's climb over and get some apples," was his next idea.

Dolly and May opened their eyes very wide. "That would be stealing," they cried, both together.

"Nonsense," said Charlie. "That's just like girls—always afraid to do anything. I mean to get a pocketful, so you can wait till I come back."

They waited and waited such a long time, but he never came, so they went slowly home. It was nearly tea-time when nurse came and said: "Farmer Giles has brought Cousin Charlie back." And a very miserable-looking boy he was.

When he had filled his pockets and meant to come down, he saw Rover, the savage farm dog, waiting for him below; so he had to stay in the tree, and might have had to remain all night, only the farmer happened to ride by and heard the dog barking.

Dolly and May were very sorry for him, and their mother did not scold him as she meant to do, because, she said, "the fright had been punishment enough."


F. Clifton Bingham



My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

The Dandelion children


What little darlings we are!" said the children one day.

They were all sitting fluffed up into one little downy ball on the top of a long stem.

"It is very nearly time for us to go into the world," said they. "O, how wide and how sunny it is, and what fun it will be! Our wings are all ready to fly, and we are so light and happy! Then the whole world will be ours, and we can choose our own place in which to take root and grow.

"I will grow in a lovely garden," said one.

"I mean to be seen, wherever I am," another declared.[19]
"Well, there's plenty of time before us to choose," remarked a third.

But the mother dandelion shook her leaves and said: "Children, don't boast. Others don't always think as much of us as we do of ourselves!"

"O, but they must," said the little ones; "we are darlings!"

"Very well," said the wind. "Now you may go—puff!" And away flew some of the seeds, just as they do when you blow the dandelion "clocks."

"Puff! puff!" away went the others—all but one.

"Let me stay here, wind," she begged. "If I can grow as large and as beautiful as my mother I shall be *******." So the wind just loosened her gently, and down she dropped close to her mother's side.

"You are a wise child," said the field-mouse. "Under this hedge you will grow in peace. Neither scythe nor spade ever comes here. But you won't be seen, and you won't see the world like your brothers and sisters."

Meantime the others went dancing about in fine style. One of them, high up in the blue air, looked at the little white clouds and fancied himself seen by just as many eyes as they were. "Why, this is even better than I thought," said he. "I never fancied I should sail about the sky!"

After some long sunny days of travel he saw below him a beautiful garden all shut in with walls, in which roses and fruit-trees grew.

"This is the place for me!" he said, and down he went, and perched on the edge of the[20] great drive in front of all the flower-beds and just before the windows of the house. "Nothing could suit me better!" said he. "I shall have plenty of good company, and I have found a very good place to make my home!" So he folded up his downy wings and quickly fell asleep.

Another of the winged children went skipping over the fields, stopping now and then to play with some flower, or just to bask in the sun. After a time she came to a sunny bank of grass on the side of the high-road.

"This is the place for me," she said. "Here I will live and grow, so that all who pass along this road will be certain to think how beautiful I am!"

And so she settled down among the grass, quite happy.

And a third said to herself: "It is good to be of some use in the world!" So when one day the breeze took her to the town, she stopped in a flower-pot full of earth that stood upon the dingy window-sill of a poor little house. "I shall be valued here," she said, "and the poor folks will think a lot of me for growing in such a place. After all, it's a fine thing to make people happy."

So she cuddled down in the flower-pot and went to sleep.

And all the other dandelion-children who had sat on the stem that day went dancing about, not knowing what they wanted. They played in the fields and never thought of anything else till one day the rain came and wet their wings and beat them down among the meadows just where they happened to be. But it was very comfortable in the deep grass, and so they just went to sleep too.

When they woke again, they all had roots and little leaves, and deep in their hearts the buds of flowers. For they had grown up now, and they were plants. At first they were all very small, but the sunshine gradually made them bigger and bigger and drew out the flowers folded in their hearts.
Then the one who had chosen the beautiful garden for his home proudly opened his first yellow flower and looked round to see what the other flowers thought of that.
But alas! he did not know how soon his pride was to have a fall. For the gardener came that way and stopped before him. "Drat these weeds!" said he. "How came this here?'" Then, whipping out his knife, he stooped down, rooted up the poor dandelion, and threw it among a heap of weeds which were waiting to be wheeled away!

The one who had chosen the roadside bank fared no better, for scarcely had she opened her yellow flowers for everyone to see when a donkey came along. "Here's a juicy mouthful!" said he, and he stopped and ate her up—flowers, leaves, and all!


The flower-pot on the window-sill which the third dandelion-child had made her home was taken inside one day, just when her flowers were ready to open.

"I must throw away this nasty weed," said a voice, "before I plant my seeds." Then some little round, black, ugly seeds were laid down carefully, while the dandelion was rooted up and flung away into a back yard down below.
This is a sad story, you see, but it is perfectly true.

The others who had skipped about the meadows grew among long grass now, which nearly choked them, and completely hid them from the sun. And when June came and the hay was cut, they too were cut and crushed before they had had any flowers at all.

But away in a corner, by a hedge—hidden from all eyes and sheltered from cold winds—the dandelion-child who had not wanted to go into the world grew stronger and more beautiful every day. She knew nothing about fine gardens or admiring eyes—and she cared nothing. All she knew was that the sun looked down on her with all his brightness, and that the great blue sky into which she was always gazing was wide enough and fair enough for her.


My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

Was It a Dream?


Rita grew quite tired of gathering wildflowers while her brother Frank sat by the water busy with his fishing-rod.

"He must be tired of it by this time! He has been fishing for two hours!" she said, and, swinging her bunch of flowers, she walked to where her brother was sitting.

"Do leave off fishing for a while, Frank!" she pleaded, leaning against the tree beside him. "There is such a funny-looking animal running about over there in the grass. Come and look!"

Frank laughed.

"I know your funny-looking animals, Rita!" he said.

"Aren't you really tired of sitting quite still?" went on Rita wonderingly.

"I don't think about it," answered her brother. "I want to catch the fish, and to do that I must sit still."



Rita knew she must be *******ed to wait, so she walked a little way from him and threw herself down upon the bank.

As she lay looking into the water she suddenly felt herself grow very sleepy. A little while after, the water began to get so clear that she could see right through it. It grew more and more so until it became just like glass. Rita could see the very bottom of the pond and the fish swimming quickly backwards and forwards.

Then she heard some very funny little voices coming up from the water. This made her look closer, and she soon discovered a small group of fishes who seemed to be speaking very eagerly together. She saw they were gathered round Frank's line, on the end of which hung a tempting piece of bait.

"I tell you, my son," Rita heard the largest fish say to one of the smaller ones, "that is a trap. I have seen hundreds of poor fishes try to swallow that worm, and they have been pulled up out of the water and I have never seen them any more!"

"But, mother!" cried the smaller fish, "if I only had just one bite! Look what a beauty it is! I am sure there can be nothing to harm me!"

"Inside that worm," continued, the big fish, "there is a hook which will catch into your gills, and you will not be able to get away. Then the man at the top will pull you up and up, and you will be killed and eaten by him!"

Still the little fish looked longingly at the bait. Rita wanted to call out and tell him what his mother said was quite true; but somehow her voice refused to come.

The other fishes who were gathered round listening did not say anything, but Rita saw that some of the smaller ones looked at the worm just as longingly as the little one who had spoken.

For a few minutes there was silence in the water; then all at once, at a moment when it thought its mother was looking the other way, the little fish made a dart forward and tried to swallow the bait. The next moment it was wriggling about in a most pitiable manner and giving faint little cries for help. Its mother swam towards it in great distress.

"Come and help!" she called, in a trembling voice.

All the other fishes surrounded the line, and some caught hold of the little fish's tail and held on.

Just as Rita was getting very excited indeed she gave a great start and jumped up from the bank.

"What was that?" she exclaimed aloud.

"Why, I've got a splendid catch. It must be a monster! The line is so heavy I can hardly pull it in!"

It was Frank's voice. Rita suddenly remembered where she was and that she must have fallen asleep. She walked slowly to Frank, thinking about her strange dream.

She had only stood by him a minute when—splash!—out flew the line from the water and over went Frank on his back.

It was so funny that Rita could not help laughing heartily—especially as Frank was not at all hurt.

"It's all very well for you to laugh!" he said, when he had got up again; "but that was the best catch I've ever had, and the wretched fish must have got off the hook!"

Rita grew very thoughtful. Could her dream have been true? It really did seem strange. Anyway, although she felt sorry for Frank, she could not help feeling very pleased that the poor little fish had got free!

Edith Robarts


My Respect

[خالد محمد زويد الخصيفي]

Great idea my brother Counsel ghurabi Thank you for your formulation Here's the story


Told that there was a Bedouin boy living with his father .. One day the father hit the boy
disease him bedridden until his death, leaving a puzzled boy told him how to prepare and bury his father and a method of burial did not know where they were alone in the desert region .. Vdther father Babath expected to pass by a person is assisted in the burial .. Indeed, the man came Msttrq objected to the way and informed him about the death of his father and he did not know how to bury him .. Vstjab man to students and equipped with his father, washing and even buried a time for sunset and is the Alilh with this kid .. In a dream saw the boy and his father in the trappings of good faith and face, sitting in the land of green and around the river .. Was asked the boy and his father ((How did you become Yawalde this case and what are the actions that have kept you in this instance)) answered a parent ((boy Asail this man who Dvinni and you'll find the answer it)) Fastiqd boy from his sleep at dawn and spent the man and prayed the Fajr prayer and after the quote from the boy said his prayers for a man strange ((Hey pal, I've seen my father in a vision of faith and serve as good Vsilth of business that he has done in his life and I know my father was not committed to his religion and he told me the man and Ask your questions Haana)) answered the strange man ((boy, when you Aaatardtni infertile and you told me your father's sick and she did to you and respond to your request, although I do not know how I finished off the dead and bury them, but there are words I said when he raised my hand and pray these words are ((Lord that this man was dead and my guests to Aackermth Aazzat place but it is now and your guest Bzmtk)) he knew the boy it is purely faith and pray sincerely for God answered the call.

[خالد محمد زويد الخصيفي]

The true story of

the Gulf

Where two young people started to sit on the sea shore and new friends Ashahm

They are sitting Itashon Jtahm old too old

I stayed scoop up food scattered on the ground and eat.

As Havoha have them and they said Antti hungry

Said I am here from morning and ate nothing

. , Side and I have the morning and gone and Khulani and قالى claimed Agee take you after Choi.

Important to have traveled the dinner and Tasht.

After the lateness of the hour Shalwa Ogradhaocalsoaalchaabab However, the time is late and the weather is cool


Become old and left on the beach to themselves at night

According to one of the youth and said to her you have your child contact number for him Luigi takes you.

Said the old me eh figure in the paper. Since Talat paper.

İş expect which is written ?????

Written (of finding these women take them to nursing home) Ansakoa

Young people written in the paper and sat an hour walk Itrgeon old new friends.

And try to walk anywhere they Horn is Eodunha it.


Old firm refused because they can get new friends of her son and promised that Luigi take

And sets the Tstnah Luigi. She has claimed the Luigi and I have to take me and I claimed the Astanah.

ĂÇĘĎŃí Almiskinh that her son denied it and threw in time to the needy is to him.

Important to young people started

Them and leave it in the hope that the Dharah Luigi taken by his promise to

In one of the young people sat turning in bed and lying Makedr

Considering the fate of the poor old man

And rose from the bed and changed his clothes and rode his car and started for the beach.

When he arrived. Schaaf ambulance and police and people gathered and entered, including

Schaaf old man was dead and asked them about the cause of death of elderly

Galo it rose with pressure and died.

She died of fear and the Dhaymcn have become a thing.

Tstna she died her son Luigi take.

She died far from her family.

God have mercy on her mercy and enter the doors of a broader committee.

Invite me, Amen.

I ask everyone who reads this story that Inscherhabarabh Ahan Onamaatkelm Arab exhortation to be hampered by both his parents

[المستشار الغرابي]

خالد محمد زويد الخصيفي


Thanks a lot for you on passing by



My Respect

[المستشار الغرابي]

My Shadow

by Robert Louis Stevenson


I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,

And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.

He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;

And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.



The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow--

Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;

For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,

And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all.



He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,

And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see;

I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!



One morning, very early, before the sun was up,

I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;

But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.


My Respect

[خالد محمد زويد الخصيفي]

Wonderful description of a great man

Brother

Chancellor ghurabi

Brother Khalid Al_khasivi

[المستشار الغرابي]

There is No thing to add




See you later,, Good bye




My Respect