My husband is Software Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders. Two years of courtship and now, five years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness. I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings. I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband is my complete opposite; his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about LOVE. One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce.  "Why? " he asked, shocked. "I am tired. There are no reasons for everything in the world!" I answered. He kept silent the whole night, seemingly in deep thought. My feeling of disappointment only increased. Here was a man who was not able to even express his predicament, so what else could I expect from him? And finally he asked me: "What can I do to change your mind?" Somebody said it right... It's hard to change a person's personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him.  Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered: "Here is the question. If you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind.  Let's say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death. Will you do it for me?" He said: " I will give you your answer tomorrow...." My hopes just sank by listening to his response. I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper with his scratchy handwriting underneath a milk glass, on the dining table near the front door, that goes.... My dear, "I would not pick that flower for you, but....please allow me to explain the reasons further..... This first line was already breaking my heart. I continued reading.  "When you use the computer you always mess up the Software programs, and you cry in front of the screen. I have to save my fingers so that I can help to restore the programs.  You always leave the house keys behind, thus I have to save my legs to rush home to open the door for you. You love traveling but always lose your way in a new city. I have to save my eyes to show you the way. You always have the cramps whenever your "good friend" approaches every month. I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy. You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories to cure your boredom. You always stare at the computer, and that will do nothing good for your eyes. I have to save my eyes so that when we grow old, I can help to clip your nails and help to remove those annoying white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand...and tell you the colour of flowers, just like the colour of the glow on your young face... Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more than I do... I could not pick that flower yet, and die ... " My tears fell on the letter, and blurred the ink of his handwriting... And as I continue on reading... "Now, that you have finished reading my answer, and if you are satisfied, please open the front door for I am standing outside bringing your favorite bread and fresh milk... I rushed to pull open the door, and saw his anxious face, clutching tightly with his hands, the milk bottle and loaf of bread....Now I am very sure that no one will ever love me as much as he does, and I have decided to leave the flower alone... That's life, and love. When one is surrounded by love, the feeling of excitement fades away, and one tends to ignore the true love that lies in between the peace and dullness. Love shows up in all forms; even in very small and cheeky forms. It has never been a model. It could be the dullest and most boring form ... Flowers, and romantic moments are only used and appear on the surface of the relationship. Under all this, the pillar of true love stands... & that's life.....

A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet.  She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three  times, even.. The total had to be exactly perfect... No chance here for mistakes..  Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she  slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with  the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.  She waited patiently for  the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment.  Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat  with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a  quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter.. That did it! 'And what do you want?' the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of  voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages,' he  said without waiting for a reply to his question. 'Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,' Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone.. 'He's  really, really sick....and I want to buy a miracle.' 'I beg your pardon?'  said the pharmacist. 'His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?' 'We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you,' the pharmacist said, softening a little. 'Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs.' The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, 'What kind of a  miracle does your brother need?' ' I don't know,' Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money..' 'How much do you have?' asked the man from  Chicago . 'One dollar and eleven cents,' Tess answered barely audible. 'And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.' 'Well, what a coincidence,' smiled the man. 'A dollar and eleven cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers.' He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said 'Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need.' That well-dressed man was Dr.  Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.   Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. 'That surgery,' her Mom whispered.. 'was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?' Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...one dollar and eleven cents...plus the faith of a little child. In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need.  A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.   When you are sad.....I will dry your tears. When you are scared.....I will comfort your fears. When  you are worried..... ..I will give you hope. When you are confused.... ..I  will help you cope. And when you are lost...and can't see the light, I shall be your beacon...shining ever so bright. This is my oath.....I pledge till the end.

A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet.  She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three  times, even.. The total had to be exactly perfect... No chance here for mistakes..  Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she  slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with  the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.  She waited patiently for  the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment.  Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat  with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a  quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter.. That did it! 'And what do you want?' the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of  voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages,' he  said without waiting for a reply to his question. 'Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,' Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone.. 'He's  really, really sick....and I want to buy a miracle.' 'I beg your pardon?'  said the pharmacist. 'His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?' 'We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you,' the pharmacist said, softening a little. 'Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs.' The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, 'What kind of a  miracle does your brother need?' ' I don't know,' Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money..' 'How much do you have?' asked the man from  Chicago . 'One dollar and eleven cents,' Tess answered barely audible. 'And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.' 'Well, what a coincidence,' smiled the man. 'A dollar and eleven cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers.' He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said 'Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need.' That well-dressed man was Dr.  Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.   Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. 'That surgery,' her Mom whispered.. 'was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?' Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...one dollar and eleven cents...plus the faith of a little child. In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need.  A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.   When you are sad.....I will dry your tears. When you are scared.....I will comfort your fears. When  you are worried..... ..I will give you hope. When you are confused.... ..I  will help you cope. And when you are lost...and can't see the light, I shall be your beacon...shining ever so bright. This is my oath.....I pledge till the end.

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 backed 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 but 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 a linen 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 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!' God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts. Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not. Thought for the Day: If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it. If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it. He sends you flowers every spring. He sends you a sunrise every morning Face it, friend - He is crazy about you! Send this to every 'beautiful person' you wish to bless. God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way. Read this line very slowly and let it sink in... If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.