You can make difference 👍

 A Powerful Story:

A man and a young teenage boy checked into a hotel and were shown to their room. The receptionist noted the quiet manner of the guests and the pale appearance of the boy. Later, the man and boy ate dinner in the hotel restaurant.

The staff again noticed that the two guests were very quiet and that the boy seemed disinterested in his food.

After eating, the boy went to his room and the man went to ask the receptionist to see the manager. The receptionist initially asked if there was a problem with the service or the room, and offered to fix things, but the man said that there was no problem of the sort and repeated his request.

When the manager appeared, he took him aside and explained that he was spending the night in the hotel with his fourteen-year-old son, who was seriously ill, probably terminally so. The boy was very soon to undergo therapy, which would cause him to lose his hair. They had come to the hotel to have a break together and also because the boy planned to shave his head, that night, rather than feel that the illness was beating him. The father said that he would be shaving his own head too, in support of his son.

He asked that staff be respectful when the two of them came to breakfast with their shaved heads.

The manager assured the father that he would inform all staff and that they would behave appropriately.

The following morning the father and son entered the restaurant for breakfast. There they saw the four male restaurant staff attending to their duties, perfectly normally, all with shaved heads.

No matter what business you are in, you can help people and you can make a difference.

The best Judgment

 *Actual Judge's sentence in Atlanta, Georgia, USA.* 

 There was a fifteen year old boy in Atlanta. He was caught stealing from  a store.  

On trying to escape from the hold of the guard, a shelf of the store was also broken.

 The judge heard the crime and asked the boy, "Did you really steal something, a packet of bread and cheese"?

 The boy responded by looking down.  ;- Yes'.

 Judge,: - 'Why?'

 Boy,: - I needed.

 Judge: - 'Could have bought.

 Boy: - 'There was no money.'

 Judge: - Take it from the family.  

Boy: - 'There is only mother in the house.  Sick and unemployed, Bread and Cheese were also stolen for the same

 Judge: - You don't do anything?

 Boy: - Used to wash a car.  When I took a day off to take care of my mother, I was fired.

 Judge: - Dont you ask someone for help?

 Boy: - Had left the house since morning, went to about fifty people, took this desperate step at the very end.

 When the arguments ended, the judge began to pronounce the verdict, "the theft and especially the theft of Bread is a very shameful crime and we are all responsible for this crime.  Every person in the court, including me, is a perpetrator, so every person present here is fined ten dollars.  No one can get out of here without giving ten dollars. "

 Saying this, the judge took ten dollars out of his pocket and then picked up the pen and started writing: - In addition, I fined the store a thousand dollars for handing over a hungry child to the police.  

 If the penalty is not deposited within 24 hours, the court will order to seal the store.

 By giving the full amount of collections to this boy, the judge & court ask for forgiveness from that boy.

 After hearing the verdict, tears were pouring from the eyes of the people present in the court. That boy's hiccups were also relentless.  The judge  came out court with tears in his eyes.

 Are our society, systems and courts ready for such a decision?

 Chanakya has said that if a hungry person is caught stealing bread, then the people of that country should be ashamed.

 If this post touches your heart, do share it with others too. 😊🤗💯%

Mother's prayer- story

 

“Susanna Wesley”

It would be an understatement to say Susanna Annesley came from a large family. She was the twenty-fifth child of a well-known London minister. She was also an intelligent, deeply spiritual girl. Susanna’s daily prayer was “Dear God, guide me. Help me do Thy will. Make my life count.”

Susanna lived in fear that her father would be arrested for his preaching. He was a preacher in the Dissenters’ church. The Dissenters were Christians who worshiped God in their own way rather than following the rules of the Church of England. In the late 1600’s it was against the law to preach for any church other than the Church of England. Dissenters had been branded, had their ears cut off, and been burned alive. Once, soldiers came to the Annesley’s  home and took many of their belongings as a fine because of her father’s preaching.

Susanna dearly loved and respected her father. From him she learned to study and pray at the same time every day—a habit she would one day teach her own children. When she was nineteen, Susanna married Samuel Wesley. Samuel was not only a very committed minister, but he too was highly intelligent and well educated. He also loved to write. Unfortunately for Susanna, he was not a practical man.

Their first home was drab and tiny. Samuel’s job at a small church in a village near London paid very little. They soon had a baby boy and named him Samuel after his father. Susanna prayed that God would use their son and the children that would come later to make a difference in the world.

After a few years, Samuel got a job in a bigger church in the country, one hundred miles from London. Although his pay was better and a house was provided for them, the move was difficult for Susanna. One hundred miles was a long way to be separated from family and friends when the only means of travel was by horse and carriage. She might never see them again.

Samuel spent most of his free time writing magazine articles and poetry, so it was up to Susanna to see that their growing family was clothed and fed. But in spite of Samuel’s shortcomings, Susanna loved him.

Her strong faith saw her through many hardships. Three of their first seven children died. Her oldest son had never talked. On top of that, Samuel made an important man angry by telling the woman he was living with is not his wife and what they were doing was sinful. This meant he we sure to lose his job.

During those dark days, Susanna turned to God for help. She was given a ray of joy when little Samuel finally began to talk when he was five years old. She began teaching him to read and found he had a very quick mind and memorized easily.

Then her husband was offered a job in another town. It paid better still, and a big house on three acres of land was included. Now they could grow their own food. But there were moving expenses, their growing family needed more furniture. They also needed to buy equipment and animals before they could do any farming. All of this put them in debt equal to a year’s salary.

The unschooled church people in the new place didn’t get along well with the Wesleys, who were educated and had famous and important ancestors. They also didn’t like Samuel’s political ideas and his loyalty to the king. A lonely Susanna turned to God for comfort.

One time while Samuel was away, the family was kept awake by gunshots and an angry mob’s pounding and shouting. Because Susanna was recovering from giving birth, a nurse was taking care of her baby across the street. When the mob finally left, the tired nurse fell into a deep sleep and rolled over on the baby and smothered it.

Some time later, an angry church member demanded that Samuel pay him some money he owed him right away. Samuel couldn’t, so the man had him put into prison for three months. While he was gone, one of his enemies killed all their cows, Susanna’s main means of support. Friends helped her and paid Samuels’s debt.

In 1702, a fire ruined two-thirds of their home. Rebuilding the house put them deeper in debt. Seven years later, another fire destroyed nearly everything they owned.

As if constant money troubles and problems with the townspeople weren’t enough, seven more of Susanna’s children died. Of their nineteen children, only nine lived to be adults.

Through it all, Susanna spent six hours a day teaching them. Determined that her children would learn their duty toward God and their neighbours, she wrote three religious textbooks for them. Her teaching was so effective that every one of them grew to love learning and godly living. Somehow, Susanna managed to spend two hours a day in her own Bible reading and prayer.

In the end, Susanna’s teaching, her daily prayers for her children, and her own godly example made a great impact on her world. While her sons John and Charles were studying at college, they started a club with other students who wanted to know and serve God better. The group became known as Methodists, because they had methods for praying, fasting, and studying the Bible at set times.

    Later, tens of thousands would hear John and Charles. John led the Methodist revival in England, which turned people back to the true gospel. And Charles carried the message to countless churches through the hymns

👵Good deeds👴-🍬story🍭

"What taste do you leave in others' mouths?"

There was an old man who was admitted in a hospital.

A young man was visiting him every day, and sits with him for more than one hour.

He helps him eat his food, and to take his shower.

Then he takes him walking in the garden of the hospital.

After that he brings him back to his room and helps him to lie down.

He goes away after reassuring himself that the old man is doing well.

One day the nurse entered his room, to give him medicine and inspect his condition, and said to him:

"May the Lord be always gracious to your kind and caring son. Every day he visits you and shows great care."

The old man looked at her and closed his eyes and said to her:

"I wish it was one of my children. This is an orphan from the neighborhood where we live. I met him one day in the past, crying at the door of a Mosque, after his father died. I comforted him and bought for him candy. I neither saw him nor talked to him for a very long time.

 

When he grew up and came to discover where my wife and I were living. He was visiting us every day to inspect our conditions. When I later fell sick, he took my old wife to his home. He then comes to the hospital to see my treatment everyday. One day I asked him: "My son why do you have to deal with us and care about us?" 

He simply smiled and then  said: "The taste of the candy is still in my mouth."

*Moral:*

Plant well, if you do, even if it is not on your place, God will not Forget the beautiful deed wherever you have planted it.

🤩Real happiness😍 -😛 true story🥳

 

*When Nigerian billionaire Femi Otedola in a telephone interview,  was asked by the radio presenter, "Sir what can you remember made you a happiest man in life?"*

Femi said:

"I have gone through four stages of happiness in life and finally I understood the meaning of true happiness."

The first stage was to accumulate wealth and means. But at this stage I did not get the happiness I wanted.

Then came the second stage of collecting valuables and items. But I realised that the effect of this thing is also temporary and the lustre of valuable things does not last long.

Then came the third stage of getting big projects. That  was when I was holding 95% of diesel supply in Nigeria and Africa. I was also the largest vessel owner in Africa and Asia. But even here I did not get the happiness I had imagined. 

The fourth stage was the time a friend of mine asked me to buy wheelchair for some disabled children. Just about 200 kids. 

At the friend's request, I immediately bought the wheelchairs. 

But the friend insisted that I go with him and hand over the wheelchairs to the children. I got ready and went with him. 

There I gave these wheel chairs to these children with my own hands. I saw the strange glow of happiness on the faces of these children. I saw them all sitting on the wheelchairs, moving around and having fun. 

It was as if they had arrived at a picnic spot where they are sharing a jackpot winning.

I felt REAL joy inside me. When I decided to leave one of the kids grabbed my legs. I tried to free my legs gently but the child stared at my face and held my legs tightly.

I bent down and asked the child: Do you need something else?

The answer this child gave me not only made me happy but also changed my attitude to life completely. This child said: 

"I want to remember your face so that when I meet you in heaven, I will be able to recognise you and thank you once again."

What would you be remembered for after you leave that office or place?

Will anyone desire to see your face again where it all matters?

*This is a must read piece* .

*It got me thinking. I pray it does same to everyone.*

 *God bless you all.*

🐦He not only forgives, but He forgets- 🦆Duck story🦢

 

A little boy was visiting his grandparents on their farm. And he was given a slingshot to play with, out in the woods. He practiced in the woods but he could never hit the target. And getting a little discouraged; he headed back to dinner.

As he was walking back he saw Grandma’s pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let it fly, hit the duck soiree in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved.

In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the woodpile, only to see his sister watching. Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch that day Grandma said, “Sally, let’s wash the dishes.” But Sally said, “Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen today, didn’t you Johnny?” And then she whispered to him, “Remember, the duck?”

So Johnny did the dishes.

Later, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing, and Grandma said, “I am sorry but I need Sally to help make supper.” But Sally smiled and said, “Well, that’s all right, because Johnny told me he wanted to help.” And she whispered again, “Remember, the duck?”

So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally’s, he finally couldn’t stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he killed the duck. She knelt, hugged him, and said, “Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you.

But I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make you a slave.”

I don’t know what’s in your past.

I don’t know what one sin the enemy keeps throwing up in your face. But whatever it is, I want you to know something.

The Lord Jesus Christ was standing at the window. And He saw the whole thing. But because He loves you, He has forgiven you. Perhaps He’s wondering how long you’ll let the enemy make a slave out of you. The great thing about God is that He not only forgives, but He forgets.

🛠The fence story🔩-🤯 controlling Anger🥵

There once was a young boy with a very bad temper. The boy's father wanted to teach him a lesson, so he gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper he must hammer a nail into their wooden fence.

On the first day of this lesson, the little boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. He was really mad!

Over the course of the next few weeks, the little boy began to control his anger, so the number of nails that were hammered into the fence dramatically decreased.

It wasn't long before the little boy discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Then, the day finally came when the little boy didn't lose his temper even once, and he became so proud of himself, he couldn't wait to tell his father.

Pleased, his father suggested that he now pull out one nail for each day that he could hold his temper.

Several weeks went by and the day finally came when the young boy was able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.

Very gently, the father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.

"You have done very well, my son," he smiled, "but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same."

The little boy listened carefully as his father continued to speak.

"When you say things in anger, they leave permanent scars just like these. And no matter how many times you say you're sorry, the wounds will still be there."

True story- 👳‍♂️India took revenge 🇮🇳

 

A story by Manish Nandi

How India took revenge on a person

who hated India. Will gladden cockles your heart!

.

She hated almost everything in the country India, and I guess she needed to find something to like in Calcutta . I was that person

Our quiet and reserved neighbours in Calcutta, the Thorntons, New Zealanders who referred to themselves as Kiwi people, had just moved out. ¹My father said his next colleague, an American, would move in shortly with his family.

Ten days later I was struggling with my high school homework when the doorbell rang. A pleasant-faced but brusque-mannered woman in her 30s asked if I understood English and, when I nodded, wanted to speak with my mother. I explained, in English, that my mother worked and was never home during the day. Surprised that an Indian housewife worked outside her home and an Indian boy spoke English, she asked for a favour. If I could please come and explain something to her two domestic employees that she hadn’t been able to convey.

Both the employees, a cleaner and a cook, said they understood the Thorntons’ English but were befuddled by her American accent. I explained the instructions in both Hindi and English, and then suggested to Edna, who had meanwhile told me her name, that she needed to speak to them slowly and perhaps with a clipped accent. She appreciated my help, but felt that, as a true New Yorker, she would have a tough time altering her speaking style.

Then, in a friendly gesture, she offered me a glass of Coca-Cola and watched wide-eyed as I drank it unhesitatingly. 

Then she said she would like to teach me a game that she loved before but hadn’t been able to play in Calcutta, not knowing who knew English well enough. The game was Scrabble. She warned me that she was a skilled player, and I shouldn’t mind losing a duel with her. “You will get better as you play with me,” she added encouragingly. We started. She was a little amazed that I used words she hadn’t expected me to know and one time had to consult a dictionary when I applied a longer word she didn’t know. Edna didn’t know that words and their structure interested me, and she was struck dumb when I won the match.

She needed a friend. She said that her husband, with his soft-spoken style and self-effacing demeanor, had become quickly popular in India, but she hadn’t a person to talk to. Frankly, she said, she disliked spicy Indian food, impenetrable Indian languages, messy Indian clothes, noisy Indian cities and the smelly Indians she had so far encountered. They seemed shifty and unreliable to her. I somehow appeared to her somewhat different. She detested almost everything in India, and I guess she needed to find something to like in Calcutta. I was that person. We became friends.

In the ensuing months she called me often. She needed my help to understand other people, doctors or servants, to explain her intent to other people, dress or furniture makers, to guide her about mangoes and markets, taxis and textiles. I met and liked her husband, Desmond, and saw immediately why he would be easily adaptable to Indian people and their ways. For Edna, Calcutta, in fact anything Indian, remained an enduring and execrable enigma. None of my interpretations or explanations worked. She loathed it all.

Our friendship ended when my parents moved out to another home in a different part of the city. 

Thirty years later, I was working in the World Bank in the US and talking to a New Yorker colleague who had been in India. He mentioned Desmond, saying that he had died and his wife had settled in a town near Washington. He gave me Edna’s phone number.

When I called her Friday, Edna recognised me in a second and warmly insisted that we talk face-to-face. She suggested that I come over to her place after office, stay the night and return the following morning. She said she would get me the pyjamas and a toothbrush. Such insistence was not customary in the US, but it sounded affectionate and well-meant and I agreed.

I took the hour-long bus trip and, as we approached the bus terminal, wondered how I would identify her after all these years. But I was the only non-white person in the bus in formal clothes, and Edna came forward in a second and hugged me.

When we arrived at her place, I had a shock. It could have been an Indian home. Every piece of furniture, every artifact, even every curtain or cushion was Indian. The rug on the floor was Indian, so were the framed pictures on the wall of the Red Fort and Dal Lake and an antique colonial-era map of India.

She served me Makaibari tea with some pakoras, and, when I offered to take her out for dinner, countermanded it promptly by saying that she has already cooked Basmati rice and chicken butter-masala for me.

I was speechless for minutes. When I recovered my tongue, I made bold to ask what had happened to change her view, since, the last I knew, she detested much of India – “with passion,” she added. What she then told me was a remarkable tale. 

It was not literature, philosophy or culture that turned her mind around. It was simply the ordinary people of India, the street folk and bazaar vendors and domestic employees who altered her perspective.

“I began with endless distrust,” said Edna, “I assumed they were out to cheat me and take advantage of a naïve foreigner. Day by day the exact opposite happened. I would buy bananas, and the poor vendor would choose the best for me, return the excessive amount I had paid. The cleaner would find and give me the cash I had carelessly dropped in the kitchen. The cook gave me and my husband the best pieces of meat, to keep only the bones for himself. Day by day, they taught me a lesson I couldn’t overlook.

“Every time I went out, a fruit seller would pester me to buy his stuff. I refused, for I wanted to buy from the market next door where I would have more choice. One day, out on the street, the heel of my shoe came off. I didn’t know how to walk back home. The fruit seller came running, made me sit on his empty fruit basket, left with the broken shoe and came back in ten minutes with it repaired, put it on my foot and would not take a cent. I insisted, he refused. I doubt anybody would have done that for me in New York.”

Edna smiled, “Yes, I hated India with passion. And India took revenge. It just made me into an Indian.”

Trust him !!

 🌷⭐️🌸💓🌸⚡️🌷

A  person  started  to  walk on  a  rope  tied  between two  tall  towers. 

He  was  walking  slowly, balancing  a  long  stick  in his  hands.

 HE  HAD  HIS SON  SITTING ON  HIS  SHOULDERS.

Everyone  on  the  ground were  watching  him  in bated  breath 

 and  were  very  TENSE.  When  he  slowly  reached  the second  tower,  everyone clapped,  whistled  and welcomed  him. 

They  shook  hands  and took  selfies.

He  asked  the  crowd  “DO YOU  ALL  THINK  I  can  WALK  BACK  on  the  SAME ROPE  NOW  from  THIS SIDE  TO  THAT  SIDE?”

Crowed  shouted  in  one voice  “YES,  YES,  YOU CAN.."

Do  you  TRUST  ME,  he ASKED?   They  said YES ,YES,  we  are  READY  to BET  ON  YOU.

He  said  okay,  can  anyone of  you  GIVE  YOUR  CHILD to  SIT  on  MY SHOULDER,  I will  take  the  CHILD  to  the OTHER  SIDE  SAFELY.

There  was  STUNNED SILENCE.  Everyone  became QUIET.

BELIEF  is  DIFFERENT. TRUST  is  DIFFERENT. 

FOR  TRUST  YOU  NEED  TO SURRENDER  TOTALLY. 

This  is  WHAT  we  LACK towards  GOD  in  TODAY ’s WORLD.

We  BELIEVE  in  ALMIGHTY .  

BUT  do  we TRUST  HIM?

God is with us always- inspiring story

 

Every year Martin's parents took him to his grandmother's house for the summer break, and they would return home on the same train the next day.

Then one day the boy says to his parents:

′′ I'm pretty big now. What if I went to grandma's house alone this year?"

After a brief discussion parents agree.

Here they are standing on the train station wharf, greeting him, giving him one last tip through the window, as Martin continues to repeat:

′′ I know, you've already told me a hundred times...!"

Train is about to leave and father whispers:

′′ My son, if you suddenly feel bad or scared, this is for you! ′′

And he slips something into his pocket.

Now the boy is alone, sitting on the train, without his parents, for the first time...

He looks at the scenery through the window that scrolls..

Around him strangers hustle, make noise, enter and exit the compartment, the controller comments him that he is alone.. A person even gives him a sad look...

So the boy is feeling more uncomfortable...

And now he's scared.

He lowers his head, snuggles in a corner of the seat, tears rise to his eyes.

At that point he remembers his father putting something in his pocket.

With a trembling hand he seeks to grop this piece of paper, he opens it:

′′ Son, I'm in the last wagon..."

This is how it is in life...

When God sent us in this world, all by ourselves, HE has also slipped a note in our pocket,

*MY CHILD,  I AM IN THE LAST WAGON ❤️*

*So trust him, have faith in him, our (BIG DADDY) GOD IS ALWAYS WITH US, in the last wagon.*

The Red Marbles- A must read story

 

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.

Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing... the conversation between Mr.. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.

'Hello Barry, how are you today?'

'Hello, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Just' admiring' them peas. They sure look good..'

'They are good, Barry.. How's your Ma?'

'Fine. Getting' stronger all the' time.'

'Good. Anything I can help you with?'

'No, Sir.

Just admiring  them peas.'

'Would you like to take some home?' asked Mr. Miller.

'No, Sir. Got nothing to pay for 'them with.'

'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?'

'All I got's my prize marble here.'

'Is that right? Let me see it' said Miller.

'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.'

'I can see that. Hmm mmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?' the store owner asked..

'Not exactly but almost.'

'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.

'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'

Mrs... Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.

With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances.. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever..

When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.'

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket.

Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes...

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.

They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size.....they came to pay their debt.'

'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho ..'

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral:

We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath.

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~ A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself...An unexpected phone call from an old friend.... Green stoplights on your way to work....

The fastest line at the grocery store....

A good sing-along song on the radio..

Your keys found right where you left them.

★¨`*•♫.•Pass it on!! Give someone else a reason to smile. ♫•* ★

Moral story- Be patient 🤹‍♂️Trust Life🧚‍♂️

 Excellent 👌 Moral

The little boy came from school on Saturday and told his father, my teacher has given us home-work to Hug 10 people and tell them - "Be patient, trust life and I Love you".

The Dad said - "OK, we will go to the Mall tomorrow morning and do it".

The child woke up all spirited up in the morning, got ready. Went to his Dad and said - "lets go!!"

The father said - "there is Heavy rainfall, I fear nobody might be there".

The Child still insisted. So the Father drove in the horrible rainy weather to the Mall.

They stood in the mall for 1 hour, and the little boy hugged 9 people.

His father then said - "now lets go, its raining heavily and we shouldn't get stuck!"

Sad the son went along with his father's orders. As they where driving past, the child pointed at a random house. Said - "please dad, just 1 person is remaining, I will go to that house and complete my homework"!

The father smiled and pulled the car over.

The child went to the door and began to ring the bell and pound the door strongly with his knuckles. He kept waiting. Finally the door was opened gently.

A lady came out with a very sad look and gently asked:

"What can I do for you, son?

With radiant eyes and a bright smile the child said:

"Ma'am my teacher has told to Hug 10 people and tell them - "Be patient, trust life and I Love you".

I have hugged 9. May I hug you and pass the message to you.

The Lady embraced him, and started crying profusely.

On seeing that the Boy's father came out of the car. He went to the lady and asked - "Any problem madam?"

She composed herself, took them inside, gave them a cup of tea and then told his father -

"My husband died a while ago leaving me totally alone in this world. Today morning the loneliness took over me. Since morning I have been thinking that this is the end of the road for me.

Then I took a chair and a rope to my bedroom and decided to end my life. As I was seeing the world for one last time, I begged for forgiveness to GOD and then heard this knock. I thought to leave it. But then nobody comes to visit me.

When I opened the door, I couldn't believe what my eyes saw this little child. And when he said , "Be patient, trust life and I Love you".

I knew it was a message from God.

Suddenly I realized I don't want to die anymore, and have decided to make something productive of my life.

*REMEMBER - Give positive thoughts to people.*

*Tell them you stand by them.*

*And even if nothing, just listen to them.*

You could be the medium that saves a life.!