Furthermore, he said he wanted to thank the parents of the donor. They must indeed be magnificent folks to have a child who would give away her eyes. He was given the name of the Birtish family and he decided to fly in to see them on Staten Island. He arrived unannounced and rang the doorbell. After hearing his introduction, Mrs. Birtish reached out and embraced him. She said, "Young man, if you've got nowhere to go, my husband and I would love for you to spend your weekend with us."
He stayed, and as he was looking around Linda's room, he saw that she'd read Plato. He'd read Plato in Braille. She'd read Hegel. He'd read Hegel in Braille.
The next morning Mrs. Birtish was looking at him and said, "You know, I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before, but I don't know where." All of a sudden she remembered. She ran upstairs and pulled out the last picture Linda had ever drawn. It was a portrait of her ideal man.
The picture was virtually identical to this young man who had received Linda's eyes.
Then her mother read the last poem Linda had written on her deathbed. It read:
Two hearts passing in the night
falling in love never
able to gain each other's sight.
Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen
Once you've made the decision to give this gift of life, make sure to share your intention with your family. They must give permission for donation and can only honor your wishes if you make them be known. For more information, please call 1-800-355-SHARE.
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The Stonecutter
There was once a stonecutter who was dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life.
One day, he passed a wealthy merchant's house and through the open gateway saw many fine possessions and important visitors. "How powerful that merchant must be!" thought the stonecutter. He became very envious, and wished that he could be like the merchant. Then he would no longer have to live the life of a mere stonecutter.
To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever dreamed of, envied and detested by those less wealthy than himself. But soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants, and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. "How powerful that official is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a high official!"
Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around, who had to bow down before him as he passed. It was a hot summer day, and the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his presence. "How
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powerful the sun is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be the sun!"
Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the farmers and laborers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. "How powerful that storm cloud is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a cloud!"
Then he became the cloud, flooding the fields and villages, shouted at by everyone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realized that it was the wind. "How powerful it is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be the wind!"
Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees, hated and feared by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against ita huge, towering stone. "How powerful that stone is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a stone!"
Then he became the stone, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the solid rock and felt himself being changed. "What could be more powerful than I, the stone?" he thought. He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stonecutter.
Benjamin Hoff
"The Stonecutter," from THE TAO OF POOH by Benjamin Hoff. Copyright © 1982 by Benjamin Hoff; text and illus. from WINNIE-THE-POOH and THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER, CR 1926, 1928 by E. P. Dutton, © 1953, 1956 by A. A. Milne. Used by permission of Dutton Signet, a division of Penguin Books USA Inc.
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2
ON PARENTING
Children will not remember you for the material things you provided but for the feeling that you cherished them.
Richard L. Evans
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Page 79
Dear World
The principal of my son Scott's school called to say he had something important he wished to share with me and asked when he might be able to come over and visit. With Scott's graduation only a few weeks away, I presumed the principal's call must have something to do with that event, though the announcement of a teenager's prank crossed my mind. I awaited his arrival and assumed the news was good.
The news was very good indeed: Scott was to graduate valedictorian. In honor of my son's achievement, the principal asked me to write something for the occasion. I said I would be delighted. I was so proud of Scott and his accomplishments.
Sitting at my typewriter, I mulled over the events of Scott's life. Then I realized the true significance of his graduation. It meant he and his classmates would be entering a world of unknowns. We would no longer be there on a daily basis to guide him, advise him or care for him. And so, I wrote the following letter to the world:
Dear World:
Our children finish school today. It's all going to be quite strange to them for a while, and I wish you would treat them kindly.
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You see, up to now they have been king of their roost and their parents have always been near to soothe their wounds and repair their feelings. Now things are going to be different. They are starting out on a new adventure. It is an adventure that may include war and tragedy and sorrow. To make their way they will require a great deal of faith, love, tolerance and understanding.
So, world, I wish you would look after them. Take them by the hand and teach them the things they will need to know, but please, world, do it gently if you can.
They will have to learn that not all people are just, that not all people are fair, and that not all people are true. But also teach them that for every villain there is a hero, that for every crooked politician there is a great and dedicated leader, and that for every enemy there is a good friend.
It will take time, world, but teach them that a nickel earned is of more value than a dollar found. Teach them to lose gracefully so that they will enjoy winning that much more.
Steer them away from envy, if you can, and teach them the secret of quiet laughter. Teach them to be at peace with their God. Teach them to be strong inside so they can stand the hurt of failure and keep the desire to try again until they succeed. Teach them to be gentle with gentle people, and to be tough with tough people.
Teach them to follow their judgment and not the crowd. Teach them to listen to all people, but to filter all they hear through a screen of truth. Teach them to laugh when they are sad, but also teach them that there is no shame in shedding tears. Teach them there can be glory in failure and despair in success.
Teach them to disregard cynics and to beware of too much sweetness. Teach them to sell their brains
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and brawn to the highest bidder, but never to put a price on their heart and soul.
Teach them if you can, not to compare themselves with others, as there will always be greater or lesser persons. Teach them instead to surpass their own accomplishments.
Teach them there is a time to gamble, but there is also a time to pass the dice.
Treat them gently, world, but don't coddle them; only the test of fire makes the finest steel. Teach them to have sublime faith in themselves as this will give them faith in mankind.
This is quite an order, world, but see what you can do. They are such nice young peopleour children.
Reprinted by permission of Avril Johannes. ©1995 Avril Johannes.
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If I Had My Child to Raise Over Again
If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd finger-paint more and point the finger less.
I'd do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I would care to know less and know to care more.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.
I'd run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.
I would be firm less often, and affirm much more.
I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later.
I'd teach less about the love of power, and more about the power of love.
Diane Loomans
From the book, Full Esteem Ahead, 100 Ways to Build Self-Esteem in Children & Adults ©1994 Diane Loomans.
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Page 84
Remember, We're Raising Children, Not Flowers!
David, my next-door neighbor, has two young kids ages five and seven. One day he was teaching his seven-year-old son Kelly how to push the gas-powered lawn mower around the yard. As he was teaching him how to turn the mower around at the end of the lawn, his wife, Jan, called to him to ask a question. As David turned to answer the question, Kelly pushed the lawn mower right through the flower bed at the edge of the lawnleaving a two-foot wide path leveled to the ground!
When David turned back around and saw what had happened, he began to lose control. David had put a lot of time and effort into making those flower beds the envy of the neighborhood. As he began to raise his voice to his son, Jan walked quickly over to him, put her hand on his shoulder and said, ''David, please remember . . . we're raising children, not flowers!"
Jan reminded me how important it is as a parent to remember our priorities. Kids and their self-esteem are more important than any physical object they might break or destroy. The window pane shattered by a baseball, a lamp knocked over by a careless child, or a plate dropped in the kitchen are already broken. The flowers are already dead. I must remember not to
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add to the destruction by breaking a child's spirit and deadening his sense of liveliness.
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I was buying a sport coat a few weeks ago and Mark Michaels, the owner of the store, and I were discussing parenting. He told me that while he and his wife and seven-year-old daughter were out for dinner, his daughter knocked over her water glass. After the water was cleaned up without any recriminating remarks from her parents, she looked up and said, "You know, I really want to thank you guys for not being like other parents. Most of my friends' parents would have yelled at them and given them a lecture about paying more attention. Thanks for not doing that!"
Once, when I was having dinner with some friends, a similar incident happened. Their five-year-old son knocked over a glass of milk at the dinner table. When they immediately started in on him, I intentionally knocked my glass over, too. When I started to explain how I still knock things over even at the age of 48, the boy started to beam and the parents seemingly got the message and backed off. How easy it is to forget that we are all still learning.
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I recently heard a story from Stephen Glenn about a famous research scientist who had made several very important medical breakthroughs. He was being interviewed by a newspaper reporter who asked him why he thought he was able to be so much more creative than the average person. What set him so far apart from others?
He responded that, in his opinion, it all came from an experience with his mother that occurred when he was about two years old. He had been trying to
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remove a bottle of milk from the refrigerator when he lost his grip on the slippery bottle and it fell, spilling its contents all over the kitchen floora veritable sea of milk!
When his mother came into the kitchen, instead of yelling at him, giving him a lecture or punishing him, she said, "Robert, what a great and wonderful mess you have made! I have rarely seen such a huge puddle of milk. Well, the damage has already been done. Would you like to get down and play in the milk for a few minutes before we clean it up?"
Indeed, he did. After a few minutes, his mother said, "You know, Robert, whenever you make a mess like this, eventually you have to clean it up and restore everything to its proper order. So, how would you like to do that? We could use a sponge, a towel or a mop. Which do you prefer?" He chose the sponge and together they cleaned up the spilled milk.
His mother then said, "You know, what we have here is a failed experiment in how to effectively carry a big milk bottle with two tiny hands. Let's go out in the back yard and fill the bottle with water and see if you can discover a way to carry it without dropping it." The little boy learned that if he grasped the bottle at the top near the lip with both hands, he could carry it without dropping it. What a wonderful lesson!
This renowned scientist then remarked that it was at that moment that he knew he didn't need to be afraid to make mistakes. Instead, he learned that mistakes were just opportunities for learning something new, which is, after all, what scientific experiments are all about. Even if the experiment "doesn't work," we usually learn something valuable from it.
Wouldn't it be great if all parents would respond the way Robert's mother responded to him?
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One last story that illustrates the application of this attitude in an adult context was told by Paul Harvey on the radio several years back. A young woman was driving home from work when she snagged her fender on the bumper of another car. She was in tears as she explained that it was a new car, only a few days from the showroom. How was she ever going to explain the damaged car to her husband?
The driver of the other car was sympathetic, but explained that they must note each other's license numbers and registration numbers. As the young woman reached into a large brown envelope to retrieve the documents, a piece of paper fell out. In a heavy masculine scrawl were these words: "In case of accident . . . remember, honey, it's you I love, not the car!"
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Let's remember that our children's spirits are more important than any material things. When we do, self-esteem and love blossom and grow more beautifully than any bed of flowers ever could.
Jack Canfield
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Page 89
He Is Just a Little Boy
He stands at the plate
with his heart pounding fast
The bases are loaded,
the die has been cast.
Mom and Dad cannot help him,
he stands all alone.
A hit at this moment
would send the team home.
The ball meets the plate,
he swings and he misses.
There's a groan from the crowd,
with some boos and some hisses.
A thoughtless voice cries,
"Strike out the bum."
Tears fill his eyes,
the game's no longer fun.
So open your heart and give him a break,
For it's moments like this
a man you can make.
Please keep this in mind
when you hear someone forget.
He is just a little boy, and not a man yet.
Chaplain Bob Fox
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A 2nd Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul Page 9