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5 years ago

Reminisce about your life and tell us a story. Try to keep your story to 2-3 paragraphs. Tell about your childhood, a favorite present, a vacation, a friend, a lesson learned or a person missed. There are no limits to the topic. Entertain us, teach us, educate us, make us smile, laugh or cry. It's your story.

4th grade / mom came through for me
5 years ago

too many stories,.....

most are rather sad actually, - guess that's how my optimism was strengthened over the years,....

 

however, I choose to share the concepts that may be used to empower our spirits, so, here goes,.....

 

4th grade

public school

art class experience

 

"getting perspective"

 

the art teacher wanted to assign a homework project for the class.  we were to draw something from our home or neighborhood and bring it back to school

 

i like to perceive what is not always obvious to the eye

 

so i decided to allow my mind's eye to soar like a bird above the roofs and see how our homes looked to the city sparrows

 

i let my imagination reach about 75 ft into the space above where i lived and the neighbor kids lived,... and looked at our roofs and our fences, our sidewalks and the power lines,... and i especially liked the geometry of the pointed rooftops

 

i drew what i believed those birds could see

 

turned in my assignment

 

-the teacher called my mom and said that i did not draw my own art page because a child of 9 could not have the ability to get such perspective, and have it be so accurate-

 

mom came through for me

 

she told them that i did do my own drawing and that i was quite a little drawing kid, so believe that the drawing is authentic and there was no one else assisting or doing the assignment for me

 

later, my mom told me that the teacher found it rather impossible for a kid my age to do such art without any instruction, only my own vision, only my own pencil making bird's eye view images of my neighborhood, seen as the free birds flying above would see it all

 

perhaps that ability to lift myself above the turmoil is how my mind's eye works now, with the bird's wings carrying my vision to the freedom above where the sky is less cluttered and the air lighter, with the tree tops full of friendly birds singing, and the ability to realize that whatever is happening on ground where troubles are directly in our face, - if we look up, and take a different perspective, - the world has great dimensions of creativity, and we are taking part in it all the time, - so, take each step with a breath of appreciation, and be an enthusiastic participant, - with perspective that sees the larger whole

 

it was a great day to have my mom let the teacher know that i not only drew the picture, but she backed me up, by saying that i had that 'ability'

 

i still remember

5 years ago

Well, I'll try to make it not too long here. I was born 54 years ago in Honduras, Central America, one month premature. I weighed 4 1/2 lbs. The doctor told my mom I may not survive. She breast-fed me and by the time I was 6 months old, I was a normal healthy baby. When I was 2, we came to live here in Chicago where I grew up with my siblings. I had a great childhood, but then started to struggle in school when I was 12. My teen-age years were the most difficult. I barely made it through high school. I continued having trouble in my 20s and 30s, too. I couldn't hold a job too long and was let go a lot. I felt like a total failure.

Then when I was 40, I finally figured that it was major depression that was the problem.  My dad was an alcoholic when I was growing up. He started drinking before he married my mom, but she didn't find out until afterwards.  I tried  a few antidepressants, but they didn't help until I found Cymbalta. However, I had another relapse 2 months after my sister died last year(my brother was shot to death 21 years ago. I'm an only child now). That was in May of last year until July(they always last for 2 months). That was the last time it happened so far. I keep praying fervently that they stay away so that I can move on with my life. Because of it, I was cheated out of a lot of things, especially being able to break out on my own by now. Instead, I'm still living with my elderly parents having to depend on my dad to support me. I've trying to get on disability since 2001.

5 years ago

I choose to tell a story I have always found funny and refer to as that "little dark spot on my lip."

My oldest sister died many years ago, but she has always been my most cherished friend.

She was in graduate school, but came home for the Christmas Holidays. I was in high school and like many of my friends was experienting with new hair colors. My sister decides that I should have the almost black hair color I had been born with, but had faded over the years. She chose to use a very popular brand at the time and colored my hair BLACK! Yes, I do mean BLACK! Besides being much too dark for a girl of 15, a small amount was accidently dropped on lip. These 50 years later I smile and remember how much I loved my sister and how much that little dark spot reminds me of her. I do so cherish that little dark spot.

5 years ago

I unfortunately did not explain that I have a permanent dark stain. Was so trying to keep it short that much was lost in the telling.

5 years ago

And so it begins....Thank you to Dot, Martha and Carrie for your stories.Hope others join in.Jack Seniorest

link to this interesting page of other stories, too!
5 years ago

http://www.care2.com/greenliving/7-stories-that-will-make-you-believe-in-miracles.html

 

           Stories

That Will Change Your View of Human Intuition

Encouraging New Stories,....
5 years ago

OverTheHumpDay,

March 19th, 2014.  Wednesday~

Jack, we would like a story from you, our Host.  I am looking forward to what you will share here,....      love&care2, Dot

5 years ago

OK.....Dot...I'll do it. Everyone should remember this group is about all of us..........

5 years ago

- end of story????????  -

5 years ago

Guess the link was not appropriately posted for us here, and I pardon the 'off-subject' according to the streamline of only the members being asked to share.  Getting participation takes a lot of "ideas" to flow along and get the enthusiasm working, and that was the only intension.

 

That said;

 

Back in the day,.... Lol

-seniors will get this one, especially,... -

 

we would watch the radio!

 

It was like a boxed in person telling us a story, . . .

As a little kid, I liked Jack Benny's radio program.  He was advanced beyond the norm for that day.  He made jokes to illustrate that being a miser was a poor personal habit. (in reality his reputation was very generous)  His best friend in the program was Rochester, and they shared life in a special friendship.  I could go on and on,....   While TV was just beginning to be a part of the everyday family life, - I visited a neighbor in the apartment building, when my mom let me,..  and she would turn on Jack's show.  His personality, and the content of his stories, were exceptionally inspiring to me, even as such a young one.  It was little things that made me find the good in life.  Jack may have been just a radio program set in a big wooden box, but, when I could sit on the floor with the friendly neighbor and hear his humor, his friendly voice, his entertaining stories, - well, I just felt that life has more to offer, and - sure enough, - Jack sparked my belief in seeing what we can smile at, seeing what we can do for the good, and seeing that every story has value.     dot

#3 / the charm
5 years ago

#3

story from me

 

Yep, I'm a talker, too, so, stories are just another form of 'verbiage' - so, here's another:

 

Oscar was the nice man who lived across the hall from us in the large apartment complex in the Midwest.  Looking back, it was wonderful is an adult took a moment to pay attention to a kid.  I was taught that children are not to speak unless spoken to, and I guess I've spent my later years trying to make up for all the silence that was demanded of me in those tender years.  Well, one night the nice man, Oscar, came to visit after dinner.  His spirit was friendly, his voice was kind, and he seemed interested in a little kid, - me~.  I knew that soon, the attention would be re-directed away from me, and I spoke to him with eagerness,...  I asked for Oscar to draw something.  We didn't have any paper for drawing, so I handed him a small brown paper bag.  He drew a pencil drawing of a dog.  I saw MAGIC!  It was as if the paper had come to LIFE!!!  It was from that very day on, that I was transformed by the power of art.  I became quite a good drawer myself, and used art often to escape the harsh worldly environment.  My childhood was quite sad.  However, through the wonderful expression that art provides, I learned that what was in front of my eyes wasn't all that our senses could feel.  Through art I found beauty, and discovered the life within, which is a constant source of wisdom, most profoundly if grounded in the virtues of Spirit, the 'good' spirit from which life itself is conceived.  It was the basis of all the spiritual lessons that were to guide me in later life. 

 

Oscar - Thanks, for your kind spirit, drawing a little doggy for a very young girl.  You helped to change things into something quite beautiful that begins with such generosity of care, and time shared with someone who remembers you with great appreciation and fondness.

a story of a book
5 years ago

 

It's been a while since graduation from high school, back there

in the Midwest, with the farm towns still intact, and the little

class of 62 Seniors waving our good-bye's as we branched out

to take our personal passages into a bigger life.

We were required to read certain books that were supposed to

guide us in life. Man's Search for Meaning. It was a tough read,

and it was one of the best reads of my life-time.

What I learned in life came from struggle and heartache. And,

the author of this book, well, spoke directly to the pain in my

own circumstances. It was a gift of divine orchestration. My

spirit was lifted by his most compassionate and insightful

composition, his wounds and his deep desire to assist our

humanity from its inescapable troubles. I remember how

empowering the book's lessons were to me in those years of

intense turmoil. [ I choose not to share in the details. ]

Yet, - While each passing decade has rolled by, each with

a new set of circumstances, - I remember how important that

book was to me when life seemed so bleak, and also revealed

great strength - of spirit, - just as the book illustrates by the

author's true story: Viktor E. Frankl.

It never has looked as bleak ever again, even though the

road didn't smooth out for many decades. Finding the wisdom

that carried me through decades of challenges still applies

from the spark of others generous sharing and loving wisdom.

Man's Search for Meaning

- a constant light within us always flickering -

            This is an ongoing story~

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2782.Viktor_E_Frankl

- waiting for another story? - here's one we all share!
5 years ago

The story of Monday,...

 

       TADA!!!  It has arrived once again.  Up N At 'm!  ya'll

 

- and the story of Tuesday is coming up tomorrow. 

[there are no repetitions in any of these days, only a label to keep us connected to a common time-line of reference]

04/07/2014

a very common story, so true and so wonderfully good
5 years ago

way back in the mid-west so very long ago

and it only seems like yesterday

lived a kid

who dug up earth worms and made mud pies

 

she looked up at the big blue yonder

and saw the infinite universe

at arms reach

 

so she ate her spaghetti

and said her prayers each night

and grew longer legs

to walk towards her future 

 

now this kid is in her senior years

and appreciates that her legs

walked through those decades

and brought her to live on the west coast

 

life is even better now

the sky still beckons

and her sights are still on the stars

with all the light of promise ahead

 

and a heart that still whispers

sweet nothings in her soul

 

life is a gift

unfolding day by day

the present that keeps on giving

 

(seniors are always as youthful

as the worm lovers and the

spaghetti eaters of their beginnings,...)

imagination is more important than knowledge*
5 years ago

Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with important matters.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It is not so very important for a person to learn facts.  For that he does not really need a college.   He can learn them from books.  The value of an education is a liberal arts college is not learning of many facts but the training of the mind to think something that cannot be learned from textbooks.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Albert Einstein quotes

once upon eternity with all things born of love
5 years ago

I do this everyday!

Writing a good day, with the stroke of the hand expressing the gift of life that we all share today.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

this is

         once upon a time

and you are the author

        to write it out

and to tell your story in truth

and with the love you hold most dear

           for each of us are born from love, made of

the energy of love, and move toward love

as we live right, and speak the right words, we

--- write our lives ---

I do this everyday!

Writing a good day, with the stroke of the hand expressing the gift of life that we all share today.

pages upon time
5 years ago

Today is always the beginning of a new story. 

I begin mine by saying, "Good Morning to All, and may each of you feel the blessings of life all about you.  You are a Darling of The Master Creator, and your presence brings good things into this reality.  You are amazing and what you bring to this world changes everything.  I send you a note of grace and mercifulness for every breath of this day."

Veterans Day, November 11, 2016
2 years ago

Today's story is our story, the never ending story of human emotion mingled with every ideal, and every real bit of the universe interacting to make this day a new experience.  Well, this Veterans Day we must adjust to the concept of having The TV Reality Show Mogel as our President for the year 2017.  I am concerned for our soldiers, especially in the next few years.  As a little girl, sometimes we'd hear the Veterans Day parade on a street close to our apartment building, and we'd walk over to wave to our brave and honorable military, and keep a note of sadness for the one's who didn't make it home again.  Those thoughts still ring as sad in my soul.  I thought as a child that we had the capacity to stop wars, to think of better solutions to our troubles, and to learn how to enjoy one another better without cruelty.  I see that my innocence could not foresee the chilling effect of living in a world that increasingly sees the material gains as more valuable than the fragile souls of our humanity.   So, I will pray, continually, as the Scriptures remind us to do, keep my prayers strong for our country, for our people, for the world, and now especially prayerful for a cold hearted business mogel who wants to rule our nation.  I think of the soldiers and have a special pray as well.  Our lives must be strong in the virtues of the Good Spirit, even when the world appears to be on the wrong track.  My story is the endless story of all of us.  I have to go for now, but will return - asap.

Communication flowing - one to another
2 years ago

I know my story is not that important.  Yet, I also know that people need to communicate, and I've always liked that part of living.  Hopefully, in something shared, there will be something gained.  Looking at the greater picture, everyone's story is shared, whether or not it's explicitly expressed.  Each loss, every joy, the triumphs and the mundane are mixed together for our combined spirits to make sense of and use for something better, something good, something that helps life feel growth beyond just the inches of being measured at the doctor's office.  We like to feel that something means something.  I believe it absolutely does!  How could flowers make me feel beautiful just by looking at them if there wasn't an inexplicable relationship between the energy of the blossom and the visual intake of the viewer?  That's a story right there!  And as we become seniors with different physical bodies than we had when we were 10 yrs. old for sure, we have stories of wisdom that a 10 yr. old couldn't understand until they've struggled more, learned more, enjoyed more, and sought to love, more.  When we get beyond the years of accumulation, we reach the higher level of wisdom that affectionately releases those 'things' which are less soul satisfying, and we value the invisible things which cannot be lost from our individual evolution.  We are mighty.  We are vulnerable.  We are peaceful if we embrace life as a miracle.  We gain understanding and forgiveness if we cherish life with open arms and compassionate hearts.  We find life to be softer when we trust the process and sense a greater truth that we are too limited to fully grasp as human beings.  We find confidence in the provider.  We want to make a difference that will benefit ourselves as well as, as many as possible.  We find humility along our path, and honor in relationships of kindness and generosity.  We are fragile yet full of eternal power, for our destiny is beyond this moment, as well as contained in the now.  Our future opens as the blossom which brings beauty to our day.  We take in the fragrance and find ourselves transformed from anything which dismays our souls.  Live according to the natural love that a flower offers without a question, free flowing and honestly inspiring, as well as generous in its expanse, from the center seed, to the next sprouting green twine of life reaching for the new light.  You are one with all that the flower reveals endlessly changing for a more lovely future.

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