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inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for awhile and was a
victim of Alzheimer’s Disease.
As we talked and I finished dressing his wound, I asked if she would be worried
if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, and hadn’t
recognized him in five years. I was surprised, and asked him, “And you still go every
morning, even though she doesn’t know who you are?” He smiled and patted my
hand and said, “She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is.”
EVERY BUCKET COUNTS:
(Sent by: Ameena Khan, Luton.UK)
Once day, having learned that the King of Fez was hunting lions in the
neighbourhood, they decided to invite him and his court, and killed a number of
sheep in his honour. The sovereign had dinner and went to bed. Wishing to show
their generosity, they placed a huge goatskin bottle before his
door and agreed to fill it up with milk for the royal breakfast.
The villagers all had to milk their goats and then each of them
had to tip his bucket into the container. Given its great size, each
of them said to himself that he might just as well dilute his milk
with a good quantity of water without anyone noticing.
To the extent that, in the morning, such a thin liquid was poured
out for the king and his court that it had no taste than the taste of
meanness and greed.
THE FENCE:
(Sent by: Mahvish Hassan, Lucknow.India )
There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails
and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the fence.
The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks
as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily, gradually
dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those
nails into the fence.
Finally the day came when the boy didn’t lose his temper at all. He told his father
about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that
he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able
to tell his father that all the nails were gone.
The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said “you have
done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the
same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one.” You can
put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won’t matter how many times you say
I’m sorry, the wound is still there. Make sure you control your temper
the next time you are tempted to say something you will
regret later.