“Who You Are Makes A Difference”

 

A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in high
school by telling them the difference they each made. Using a process
developed by Helice Bridges of Del Mar, California, she called each
student to the front of the class, one at a time. First she told them how
the student made a difference to her and the class. Then she presented
each of them with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters which read,
“Who I Am Makes a Difference.”

Afterwards the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of
impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the
students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread
this acknowledgment ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the
results, see who honored whom and report back to the class in about a
week

One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby
company and honored him for helping him with his career planning. He
gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two
extra ribbons, and said, “We’re doing a class project on recognition, and
we’d like you to go out, find somebody to honor, give them a blue
ribbon, then give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a
third person to keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please
report back to me and tell me what happened.”

Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been
noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss
down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative
genius. The boss seemed very surprised. The junior executive asked him
if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him
permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, “Well, sure.”
The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his
boss’s jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he
said, “Would you do me a favor? Would you take this extra ribbon and
pass it on by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave
me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this
recognition ceremony going and find out how it affects people.”

That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down.
He said, “The most incredible thing happened to me today. I was in my
office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired
me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius. Imagine. He
thinks I’m a creative genius. Then he put this blue ribbon that says ‘Who
I Am Makes A Difference’ on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an
extra ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor. As I was
driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with
this ribbon and I thought about you. I want to honor you.

“My days are really hectic and when I come home I don’t pay a lot of
attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough
grades in school and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow
tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do
make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most
important person in my life. You’re a great kid and I love you!”
The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn’t stop crying. His
whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears,
“I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn’t
think you loved me. Now I don’t need to.”

Helice Bridges  ( Chicken  Soup for the Soul) 

***

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“Shoes in Church”

A touching and inspirational poem by Leanne Freiberg
***
“I showered and shaved.
I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat
In a pew just in time.
Bowing my head in prayer
As I closed my eyes.
I saw the shoe of the man next to me
Touching my own and I sighed.
With plenty of room on either side,
I thought, “Why must our soles touch?”
It bothered me. His shoe is touching mine
But it didn’t bother him much.
A prayer began: “Our Father”
I thought, “This man with the shoes has no pride.
They’re dusty, worn, and scratched.
Even worse, there are holes on the side!”
“Thank You for blessings,” the prayer went on.
The shoe man said a quiet “Amen.”
I tried to focus on the prayer
But my thoughts were on his shoes again.
Aren’t we supposed to look our best
When walking through that door?
“Well, this certainly isn’t it,”
I thought while glancing toward the floor.
Then the prayer was ended.
The songs of praise began.
The shoe man was certainly loud
Sounding proud as he sang.
His voice lifted the rafters.
His hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear
The shoe man’s voice from the sky.
It was time for the offering.
What I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached
Into his pockets so deep.
I saw what was pulled out
What the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft “clink”
As when silver hits tin.
The sermon really bored me
To tears and that’s no lie.
It was the same for the shoe man.
For tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service
As is the custom here
We must greet new visitors
And show them all good cheer.
But I felt moved somehow
And wanted to meet the shoe man.
So after the closing prayer
I reached over and shook his hand.
He was old and his skin was dark.
His hair was truly a mess.
But I thanked him for coming
And being our guest.
He said, “My name is Charlie.
I’m glad to meet you, my friend.”
There were tears in his eyes
But he had a large, wide grin.
“Let me explain,” he said,
Wiping tears from his eyes,
“I’ve been coming here for months
And you’re the first to say ‘Hi.'”
“I know that my appearance
Is not like all the rest.
But I really do try
To always look my best.”
“I always clean and polish my shoes
Before my very long walk.
But by the time I get here
They’re dirty and dusty, like chalk.”
My heart filled with pain
And I swallowed to hide my tears
As he continued to apologize
For daring to sit so near.
He said, “When I get here
I know I must look a sight,
But I thought if I could touch you
Then maybe our souls might unite.”
I was silent for a moment
Knowing whatever was said
Would pale in comparison.
I spoke from my heart, not my head.
“Oh, you’ve touched me,” I said,
“And taught me, in part
That the best of any man
Is what is found in his heart.”

The rest, I thought,
This shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am
That his dirty old shoe touched my soul. 

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Source: Google Images

Today

While there is life, there is hope!

Today I am coming to edge, 

And peacefully   writing in stars 

How love  has found me and pledge 

The healing is touching my scars. 

***

Today I embrace all my dreams

And dance them on ways to the peaks.

While smile to the challenge and deem

The Light  will always spark on my streets. 

***

Today I am touching the cry

And turn it to smiles on my hope. 

Beside of my burden while try

To feign into pieces of gold.   

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In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:  Diverse

View original post

Mathematically speaking

While there is life, there is hope!

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I  always  enjoy an  easy problem like this when scroll down on my LinkedIn account.  I even wear a large smile on my face when read:

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Honestly,  I never thought that you have to be a Genius in order to resolve this!  If so, I would be then  very happy when it comes about my generation…that’s means we all are geniuses! But in the same time  I feel so disappointed when read the comments…but let’s take it over and focus on positive things.

I  even have found  an  wondering one… It seems to be more realistic…

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Well, not sure is only… But if they say so, do not mind…

In fact all these make me a little more positive.

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  Because in our house everybody loves math, we have tried to be a little original. So I have got this:

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And I would say that is not only for Geniuses… It…

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