Tuesday, November 9, 2021
Thursday, November 4, 2021
Commonsense Be-Attitudes . . .
Author: Fr. Joseph Folliet . . .
Blessed are those who
can laugh at themselves; they will always have entertainment.
Blessed are those who can distinguish between a mountain and a molehill; they
will save themselves a lot of trouble.
Blessed are those who can rest and sleep without looking for excuses; they will
become wise.
Blessed are those who are intelligent enough not to take themselves too
seriously; they will be appreciated.
Blessed are you if you can look seriously at small things and peacefully at
serious things; you will go far in life.
Blessed are you if you can admire a smile and forget a scowl; your path will be
sunlit.
Blessed are you if you can always interpret the attitudes of others with good
will, even when appearances are to the contrary; you may seem naive, but that
is the price of charity.
Blessed are those who think before acting and who laugh before thinking; they
will avoid foolish mistakes.
Blessed are you if you know how to be silent and smile, even when you are
interrupted, contradicted or walked on; the gospel is beginning to take root in
your heart.
Blessed are you especially if you know how to recognize God in all those you
meet; you have found the true light, true wisdom.
Tuesday, November 2, 2021
The Magic Purse . . .
Once there was a very young
girl, the only child of her widowed mother. On a chilly morning in December, as
she gathered sticks for firewood, she happened upon a leather pouch full of
gold coins. Running home, jumping with joy, twirling around, she gave her
mother the treasure she found. Together they counted the coins, fifteen of
them. The girl couldn't stand still. She danced, she smiled, she laughed, she
waved her arms in the air. But her mother, being an honest woman, sighed
deeply and said, "My child,
this money does not belong to us. Go back and try to find the rightful owner.
Perhaps you will receive a reward." The girl, in shock,
returned with heavy steps along the path where she found the pouch.
Villagers were coming and
going, wishing each other a Merry Christmas here and a Merry Christmas there.
About noon a rich man came down the path, turning his head this way and that,
searching for something. The girl stepped forward and asked very timidly, "Sir, what are you looking
for?" "A purse," he replied, "I've lost my purse." The
young girl held out the pouch of gold coins and asked, "Is this your purse?" "It
certainly is," he replied, and snatched it from her hand. She
looked at him expectantly, but the man was a miser. He didn't want to
give a reward. After counting the coins he turned a mean eye toward the girl,
and said loud enough for those passing by to hear, "I had twenty gold coins. Where are the other
five?" "But sir," the girl replied trembling, "there were only fifteen."
Grabbing her by the shoulders, the ungrateful miser shouted, "Give back the five gold coins you
have stolen!"
People gathered when they heard
the child crying and proclaiming her innocence as the man shook her vigorously.
Just then the local magistrate came forth from the midst of the crowd and
stepped between the girl and the man. "Did
you count the coins yourself?" he asked her. "Yes," she sobbed,
"and my mother,
too." The judge called for the mother and when she came,
he asked her how many coins were in the purse. "Fifteen," she said. The rich
merchant bellowed out, "They're
lying! I had twenty gold coins."
The wise magistrate looked up
and down at the well-dressed man in his fine clothes, and then at the poor
widow with her ragtag daughter. He pondered for a moment. A serious look
crossed his face as he asked the angry puffy-jowled merchant, "Are you absolutely certain there
were twenty gold coins in your purse?" He replied, "Yes, of course I am."
Turning to the mother and child, the judge smiled and said, "The merchant assures me he lost a
purse containing twenty gold coins. This one has only fifteen. Clearly, it
cannot be the same one. Since no one has come forward to claim a lost purse
with fifteen coins you may keep this one. The case is closed."
At this judgment the crowd broke into cheers and the miser went away shamed and
undone by his own greed.
Source and author unknown
Monday, November 1, 2021
Putting a little hurry in our slow . . .
A reporter was covering that tragic conflict in the
middle of Sarajevo, and he saw a little girl shot by a sniper. The reporter
threw down his pad and pencil, and stopped being a reporter for a few minutes.
He rushed to the man who was holding the child, and helped them both into his
car.
As the reporter stepped on the accelerator, racing to the
hospital, the man holding the bleeding child said, "Hurry, my friend, my
child is still alive."
A moment or two later, "Hurry, my friend, my child
is still breathing."
A moment later, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still
warm."
Finally, "Hurry. Oh my God, my child is getting
cold."
When they got to the hospital, the little girl had died.
As the two men were in the lavatory, washing the blood off their hands and
their clothes, the man turned to the reporter and said, "This is a
terrible task for me. I must go tell her father that his child is dead. He will
be heartbroken."
The reporter was amazed. He looked at the grieving man
and said, "I thought she was your child."
The man looked back and said, "No, but aren't they
all our children?"
(Author and source unknown)