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C.R.I.-E.V.H. - n°07 2006 Part 1
CRI-EVH n°7 part 1
Quand j'ai vu tout le monde qu'il y avait, je me suis mise à maugréer. Je me suis frayé un chemin jusqu'au rayon des jouets. Je me demandais: « Les enfants joueront-ils vraiment avec? » Il n'arrête pas de lui caresser les cheveux et de la serrer doucement contre lui. La dame lui répond avec un peu d'impatience: « Tu le sais que tu n'as pas assez de sous pour l'acheter. » Le petit garçon tient toujours la poupée dans ses bras. Il me répond tristement: Mon cœur s'arrête presque de battre. Puis il me montre une photo de lui, prise dans le magasin, sur laquelle il tient la poupée en me disant: Puis il baisse la tête et reste silencieux. Il y en a amplement assez pour la poupée et même plus. Doucement, le petit garçon murmure: « Merci Jésus pour m'avoir donné assez de sous. » Puis il me regarde et dit: Vous savez, ma maman aime tellement les roses blanches. » Je termine mes achats dans un état d'esprit complètement différent de celui dans lequel j’avais commencé. La petite fille était morte sur le coup et la mère gravement blessée. Deux jours plus tard, je lis dans le journal que la jeune femme est morte. Je quitte l’endroit en pleurant, sentant que ma vie est changée pour toujours.
Deprived of the normal ways of learning, Helen soon began to explore the world by using her other senses. She followed her mother wherever she went by hanging onto her skirts. She touched and smelled everything she came across and felt other people's hands to see what they were doing. She copied their actions and soon the little girl was able to do certain jobs herself, like milking the cows and kneading dough. She even learnt to recognise people by feeling their faces or their clothes. She could also tell where she was in the garden by the smell of the different plants and the feel of the ground beneath her feet. By the age of seven years she had invented over sixty different signs by which she could 'talk' to her family. If she wanted bread, for example, she would pretend to cut a loaf and butter the slices. If she wanted ice cream she wrapped her arms around herself and pretended to shiver. So, by her own efforts, she was beginning to make some sense of an alien and confusing world. Soon she began to learn about conversation. She noticed that other people used their mouths and throats to communicate. She realised they were using sound. Sometimes she stood between two people and touched their lips. Of course, she could not understand what they said and she could not make any meaningful sounds herself. Frustration with her inability to understand her world adequately increased to such a degree that she became wild and unruly. At this point, at the age of seven years, her parents hired a teacher for Helen. Twenty-five year old Annie Sullivan came from a poor background and had herself been blind before two successful eye operations had restored her sight, so she had a good understanding of the cut-off world that Helen inhabited, as well as a strong desire to dedicate herself to this new task. The big breakthrough for Annie and Helen came when one day, Annie led Helen to the water pump and pumped water onto Helen's hand. As she did so, she spelt out the individual letters, WATER, on Helen's palm. Helen suddenly realised these individual signs represented the thing she had just felt - water. In the same instant, she also realised that everything else in the world must also have a name, must also be represented by a collection of signs. Helen rushed about touching anything she could find and asking Annie what it was called. In this way, she learnt that everything is represented by a set of symbols - a word! From this revelation came the next step - that a collection of words can represent something intangible - an idea. Annie was careful to teach Helen about those subjects in which she was interested. The two of them would wander through the fields discussing whatever ideas came into Helen's mind. In this way, Annie managed to keep Helen intensely interested in a wide range of subjects. It also meant they could pursue a number of exciting hobbies, such as sailing and tobogganing. And so, through Annie/s love and persistence, Helen started to grow and thrive. She became gentler and by the age of ten she had learned to read and write in Braille. She also learnt to read people's lips by pressing her fingertips against them and feeling the movement and vibrations. This method is called Tadoma, a skill very few manage to acquire. She also learnt to speak, a major achievement for someone who could not hear at all. There followed a period of further education for Helen in Boston and New York, which Annie also attended as Helens guide and interpreter. In 1904, she graduated from Radcliff College with honours, having studied German, Latin, arithmetic, history and English literature. While still at college, she wrote 'The Story of my Life'. This was an immediate success and earned her enough money to buy her own house. Helen then turned her attention to welfare work and politics. In 1909, she joined the Socialist Party, supporting women's suffrage and birth control. She also opposed the use of child labour and capital punishment. She helped set up the American Foundation for the Blind. She worked tirelessly for the rest of her life, writing appeals and making fund-raising tours all over the world. Through almost all this time Annie was still at Helen's side, helping and guiding her. It was through her caring and love for Helen, through her persistence and patience that Helen had been able to develop the will to conquer her disability and break through the fetters of her lonely world to take her place as a contributing individual. Today, the agency, Helen Keller International, is one of the biggest organisations working with blind people overseas. Although Helen died in 1968, her story still continues to inspire people today.
1. What name would you give this story?
Pour prouver au tigre qu'il disait vrai, le chat s'approcha de la fenêtre de la petite maison. Après s'être bien éclairci la voix, il ferma les yeux et poussa un " miaou " plaintif et prolongé, ce qui, dans le langage des chats, voulait dire qu'il avait très faim. La fenêtre s'ouvrit et la petite fille apparut.
Aussitôt dit aussitôt fait, le tigre se rendit sous la fenêtre, il se mit à rugir tellement fort que le chat dut se boucher les oreilles. Mais à la place de la fillette, apparut le canon d'un long fusil, et derrière le fusil, le visage menaçant d'un homme grand et gros. A cette vue, le tigre oublia sa faim, et courut comme une flèche vers les bois, pendant que l'homme criait : " Ah, tu t'enfuis stupide animal ! " " J'ai cherché à te suivre, dit le petit chat, mais tu courais trop vite pour moi. " Alors le chat répondit : " Tu ne dois pas te lamenter, car tu as eu beaucoup de chance d'échapper aux balles du fusil. De plus tu ne dois pas m'en vouloir.
Lorsque nous nous tournons vers Lui, demandons Lui de nous aider à comprendre nos erreurs, afin de ne plus les recommencer. Si nous sommes réellement sincère, Il nous aidera et peut-être adoucira-t-Il l’épreuve.
The Mexican replied, Just about three hours. The Mexican replied, I play with my children, take siesta with my wife, spend time with my oldies, and every evening drink tequila and play guitar with my friends. The Mexican fisherman asked, but how long will all this take? The American thought for a while, and then said, Well, you will retire, move to a small fishing village where you will play with your children, take siesta with your wife, spend time with your oldies, and in the evenings drink tequila and play guitar with your friends. But perhaps, your oldies would be there no more, the children already grown-up, your marriage up in flames with the hustle and bustle of big city life, and you may have neglected your health to take care of the growing business, so not able to drink tequila anymore. Never the less, in the evenings you could still play guitar with your friend!!!.
Quand elle était toute petite, le grand homme la soulevait de terre, chantait un air et dansait avec elle autour de la pièce, et il disait: Mais la petite fille faisait la moue et disait: La petite fille, qui n'était plus une petite fille, Plus elle apprenait à se connaître elle-même, Le jour vint où la petite fille, qui n'était plus une petite fille, Aussi s'est-elle rendue au chevet du grand homme. La petite fille fit la seule chose qu'elle pouvait faire. La tête sur son épaule, elle pensa à plusieurs choses. Elle pensa à la peine qu'elle éprouverait, Le cœur, où la musique et les mots avaient toujours vécu. Je t'aime
One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and colour of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every colour and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said: "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you." There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Today is a gift, that's why it is called the “ Present ”.
Now only the little frog was left. He thought to himself. "Well, to give up is to be dead, so I will keep swimming." Two more hours passed and the tiny legs of the determined little frog were almost paralysed with exhaustion. It seemed as if he could not keep moving for another minute. But he thought of his dead friend, and repeated: "To give up is to be meat for someone's table, so I'll keep paddling on until I die - if death is to come - but I will not cease trying - while there is life, there is hope." After a while, just as he felt completely numb and thought he was about to drown, he suddenly felt something solid under him. To his astonishment, he saw that he was resting on a lump of butter which he had churned by constant paddling! And so the successful little frog leaped out of the milk pail to freedom. Oui, c’est au moment où l’on se trouve au fond du gouffre que l’on devient capable de sortir des chemins battus, d’espérer. Quand tu seras dans la crème, dans la … souviens-toi de cette parabole.
I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being. She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?" I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze. "Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked. She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids..." Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she revelled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up. At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, "I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know." As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, "We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be. These words have been passed along in loving memory of Rose. 'REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL' We make a Living by what we get, we make a Life by what we give.
Bien sûr, dans mon enfance, je ne voyais pas bien cet intérieur. Lorsque quelqu'un me faisait remarquer qu'une décoration était plus ou moins jolie, je n'y portais pas attention ou plutôt je ne voulais pas y porter attention, je la cachais ou bien je ne la regardais plus mais, tôt ou tard cette décoration refaisait surface par je ne sais quelle magie. J'y vivais comme un automate. Puis un jour cette maison qui m'était auparavant si familière me devint tout à coup, je ne sais pour quelle raison, inhabitable. Je la détestais, je la fuyais, je ne lui trouvais plus rien de beau. Je la sentais comme hantée, habitée d'une maladie que je croyais incurable. Longtemps je lui ai fait mal jusqu'au jour où sur mon chemin j'ai croisé des décorateurs, des spécialistes en intérieur. Je les ai fait entrer dans ma maison que je trouvais si En plus de les avoir oubliées lorsque je les ai ressorties j'ai eu peine à croire qu'elles m'avaient déjà appartenu. Puis je me suis mise au travail avec l'aide de ces décorateurs hors-pair. Quelle satisfaction que de redécouvrir la beauté ! Cette maison n'a pas d'adresse, mais elle a un nom, elle s'appelle: MOI... Hé oui! Cette maison que j'ai détestée et à laquelle j'ai fait si mal, c'était moi. Grâce à ces gens qui ont croisé mon chemin je me suis remise à apprendre à m'aimer et me re-décorer l'intérieur. Je ne fais que commencer. Je ne fais que commencer, la route sera longue mais bien entourée elle me semblera plus facile.
The monkey, who desires the food, will put its hand inside that pot and take a big handful of the food. Now, the monkey becomes unable to draw its hand out through the opening. Only on releasing the grip will the monkey be able to take its hands out. Our desires are the sweet in the pot. The world being the pot, containing the desires - sweets, man put his hand in the pot. when he sheds his desires, he will be able to live in the world freely. To get freedom, the first thing to do is to sacrifice. In philosophical terms, this is called renunciation.
C'est un coup de téléphone, La parole peut mentir, mais le regard ne ment pas… Aimer... C'est simplement être là, non seulement avec son corps C'est ne pas juger, ne pas critiquer, ne pas condamner... C'est pouvoir aussi dire sans envie: Mais si l'amour ne nous habite pas,
Creation date : 03/12/2006 @ 23:19
Last update : 06/05/2008 @ 15:27
Category : C.R.I.-E.V.H.
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| Thought for the day
L’homme doit toujours avancer vers la force ; il ne devrait pas se réfugier dans le mensonge, la méchanceté et la malhonnêteté qui sont les caractéristiques fondamentales de la lâcheté. Cette lâcheté est née de l’acceptation d’une image fausse et inférieure de nous-même. Vous pensez que vous êtes l’enveloppe, la couche extérieure, mais vous êtes en réalité le noyau, le cœur. Cette fausse identification est l’erreur fondamentale. Tout effort spirituel doit être dirigé vers la suppression de l’enveloppe et la révélation du noyau central. Aussi longtemps que vous dites « Je suis Untel », vous êtes obligé d’avoir peur, mais une fois que vous dites et éprouvez « Je suis Brahman », vous obtenez une force invincible.
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