Part 1
If someone want to translate the French texts he or she will be welcome.
A méditer avec « l’assise silencieuse »
Nous sommes tous co-créateurs de l’univers, mais la seule chose que nous puissions changer dans l’univers, c’est nous-même et à travers notre changement personnel, nous entraînons les autres à changer, mais directement nous ne pouvons rien.
En conclusion : commençons par nous changer nous-même et lorsque le moment sera venu l’entourage suivra.
Because it makes her feel better
The men were all involved in a meeting dealing, undoubtedly, with important matters. Various members of the group were reporting to the leader. Suddenly, the door sprang open and the wife of the leader came barging in. She proceeded to berate the leader in a loud and angry tone of voice. She was upset that her husband had not gone to the store the evening before to buy some milk.
Everyone, except the leader, sat there in shock and disbelief. The leader sat patiently and let his wife conclude her tirade. When she left the room, one man asked the leader, "Why, sir, did you let her do that to you in front of all of us?" In his wise and thoughtful way, the leader responded by saying, "Because it makes her feel better."
This incident is a glaring example of one side of the troubled personality of Mary Todd Lincoln, the wife of the 16th president of the United States, Abraham Lincoln.
The incident took place in the White House at a meeting of the Cabinet.
If there are no two periods of pain, there will be no experience of pleasure, for pleasure is only an interval between two pains.
Sharing is Caring
Many years ago a great singer, who had earned a world-wide reputation for her wonderful voice and out-standing talent, happened to be at a party.
There a little girl with a beautiful voice was asked to sing.
The piece that she wanted to sing was a duet, a song sung by two people.
The child was to sing the main part and she needed someone to sing the second part. But no one was willing to sing the accompaniment. All the grownups felt that it was below their dignity to sing the second voice.
There was a pause, as no one was willing to comply with the girl's wishes.
Then suddenly the famous singer said: "I will sing the second voice if you so wish." And she did so.
The duet was sung by the two, the little girl's voice rising high and clear, white the voice of the most famous singer of that time following sweetly in perfect harmony with the girl's voice.
Noble was the heart of that renowned singer who was willing to share her voice with the Little girl.
The mind is the sole cause for happiness as well as for misery, for bandage or for freedom.
The Country Mouse and the City Mouse
Once a little mouse who lived in the country invited a little Mouse from the city to visit him. When the little City Mouse sat down to dinner he was surprised to find that the Country Mouse had nothing to eat except barley and grain.
"Really," he said, "you do not live well at ail; you should see how I live! I have ail sorts of fine things to eat every day. You must come to visit me and see how nice it is to live in the city."
The little Country Mouse was glad to do this, and after a while he went to the city to visit his friend.
The very first place that the City Mouse took the Country Mouse to see was the kitchen cupboard of the house where he lived. There, on the lowest shelf, behind some stone jars, stood a big paper bag of brown sugar. The little City Mouse gnawed a hole in the bag and invited his friend to nibble for himself.
The two little mice nibbled and nibbled, and the Country Mouse thought he had never tasted anything so delicious in his life. He was just thinking how lucky the City Mouse was, when suddenly the door opened with a bang, and in came the cook to get some flour.
"Rut'!" whispered the City Mouse. And they ran as fast as they could to the little hole where they had come in. The little Country Mouse was shaking ail over When they got safely away, but the Iittle City Mouse said,"That is nothing; she will soon go away and then we can go back." After the cook had gone away and shut the door they stole softly back, and this time the City Mouse had something new to show: he took the little Country Mouse into a corner on the top shelf, where a big jar of dried prunes stood open. After much tugging and pulling they got a large dried prune out of the jar on to the shelf and began to nibble at it. This was even better than the brown sugar. The little Country Mouse liked the taste so much that he could hardly nibble fast enough. But ail at once, in the midst of their eating, there came a scratching at the door and a sharp, loud MIAOUW!
"What is that?" said the Country Mouse. The City Mouse just whispered, "Sh!" and ran as fast as he could to the hole. The Country Mouse ran after, you may be sure, as fast as HE could. As soon as they were out of danger the City Mouse said, "That was the old Cat; she is the best mouser in town,—if she once gets you, you are lost."
`This is very terrible," said the little Country Mouse; "let us not go back to the cupboard again."
"No," said the City Mouse, "I will take you to the cellar; there is something especial there."
So the City Mouse took his little friend down the cellar stairs and into a big cupboard where there were many shelves. On the shelves were jars of butter, and cheeses in bags and out of bags. Overhead hung bunches of sausages, and there were spicy apples in barrels standing about. It smelled so good that it went to the little Country Mouse's head. He ran along the shelf and nibbled at a cheese here, and a bit of butter there, until he saw an especially rich, very delicious-smelling piece of cheese on a queer little stand in a corner. He was just on the point of putting his teeth into the cheese when the City Mouse saw him.
"Stop! stop!" cried the City Mouse. "That is a trap!"
The little Country Mouse stopped and said, "What is a trap?"
"That thing is a trap," said the little City Mouse. "The minute you touch the cheese with your teeth something comes down on your head hard, and you're dead."
The little Country Mouse looked at the trap, and he looked at the cheese, and he looked at the little City Mouse. "If you'll excuse me," he said, "1 think 1 will go home. I'd rather have barley and grain to eat and eat it in peace and comfort, than have brown sugar and dried prunes and cheese,—and be frightened to death ail the time!"
So the little Country Mouse went back to his home, and there he stayed ail the rest of his life.
The main is the inner contentment.
Dalaï Lama
You are what, you are preach
In one of his discourses at a Western American town, a preacher said that one who has attained absolute truth or knowledge remains the same under all circumstances; he is always cairn and unruffled by things external.
A few churlish cowboys heard this lecture and decided to test him. When the preacher went to their village to deliver a lecture they asked him to stand on a reversed tub and address the gathering.
The preacher did as requested and then became absorbed in his subject.
The cowboys meanwhile started firing from close range, the bullets whizzing past preacher's ears. This did not perturb the preacher in the least. He continued his speech with as much composure as he started with.
When he had finished, the cowboys surrounded him, shook hands with him and declared; `Yes preacher, you are absolutely genuine. You are what you preach !
Peace can only be won the hard way, by eliminating violence and greed from the hearts of individual.
The Two Travellers and the Farmer
A traveller came upon an old farmer hoeing in his field beside the road. Eager to rest his feet, the wanderer hailed the countryman, who seemed happy enough to straighten his back and talk for a moment.
"What sort of people live in the next town?" asked the stranger.
"What were the people like where you've come from?" replied the farmer; answering the question with another question.
"They were a bad lot. Troublemakers ail, and lazy too. The most selfish people in the world, and not a one of them to be trusted. I'm happy to be leaving the scoundrels."
"Is that so?" replied the old farmer. "Well, I'm afraid that you’ll find the same sort in the next town.
Disappointed, the traveller trudged on his way, and the farmer returned to his work.
Some time later another stranger, coming from the same direction, hailed the farmer, and they stopped to talk. "What sort of people live in the next town?" he asked.
"What were the people like where you've come from?" replied the farmer once again.
"They were the best people in the world. Hard working, honest, and friendly. I'm sorry to be leaving them."
"Fear hot," said the farmer. "You'll find the same sort in the next town.
The secret of happiness is not doing what one likes to do but in liking what one has to do.
HOPE or EPOH
As I ate breakfast one morning, I overheard two oncologists conversing.
One complained bitterly, "You know, Bob, I just don't understand it. We used the same drugs, the same dosage, the same schedule and the same entry criteria. Yet 1 got a 22 per-cent response rate and you got a 74 percent. That's unheard of for metastatic cancer. How do you do it?"
His colleague replied, "We're both using Etoposide, Platinum, Oncovin and Hydroxyurea. You call yours EPOH. I tell my patients I'm giving them HOPE. As dismal as the statistics are, I emphasize that we have a chance."
Voir le verre à moitié plein et non le verre à moitié vide.
L’espoir fait vivre
CHIOTS A VENDRE
Un petit garçon se tenait devant la vitrine d’un marchand. Sur cette vitrine une pancarte annonçait : “Chiots à vendre”.
“Combien vendez-vous les chiots ?” demanda-t-il.
“Entre 30 et 50 €.”, répondit le marchand.
“J’ai 2,37 €”, dit le petit garçon. “Puis-je les voir, s’il vous plaît ?”
Le marchand sourit et siffla : cinq petites boules de poils accoururent du chenil.
À la traîne, loin derrière les autres, l’un des chiots boitait. C’est celui-là que le petit garçon choisit immédiatement. Il dit : “Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas avec ce petit chien ?”
Le marchand expliqua que sa hanche désarticulée ferait toujours de lui un estropié.
Tout excité, le petit garçon dit : “C’est celui-là que je veux !”
“Non, tu ne peux pas acheter ce petit chien”, répondit le marchand, “si tu le veux vraiment, je te le donne”.
Le petit garçon se fâcha. Regardant le marchand droit dans les yeux et indiquant du doigt le petit chien il dit : “Je ne veux pas que vous me le donniez. Ce chiot a autant de valeur que les autres et je vous paierai le prix intégral. Je vous donne tout de suite 2,37 € et je vous donnerai 50 centimes tous les mois jusqu’à ce que j’aie remboursé ma dette.”
Le marchand répliqua : “Tu ne peux vraiment pas acheter ce petit chien. Il ne pourra jamais courir, sauter et jouer avec toi comme les autres chiots.”
Alors, le petit garçon se baissa et remonta la jambe de son pantalon pour laisser voir sa jambe gauche sérieusement déformée, toute tordue, que soutenait un appareil orthopédique. Regardant le marchand, il répondit doucement : “Eh bien ! Moi-même, je ne cours pas très bien et le petit chiot aura besoin de quelqu’un qui le comprenne.”
Moralité : S’il est une chose commune à tous les gens du monde, c’est le besoin d’être aimé. Il n’y a personne qui soit inutile ou peu important, même si, le corps est « estropié » le principe de vie qui est à l’intérieur a une valeur égale aux autres. Tous les jours, faisons en sorte qu’une personne ait le sentiment d’être importante. Que cette personne ressente que quelqu’un l’aime pour l’amour de l’Amour.
LES GENS HEUREUX
Les gens heureux! Ils font du bonheur le but de leur existence, ils recherchent une certaine qualité de vie, plutôt qu'une accumulation de plaisirs.
Ils ont la capacité de changer ce qui peut l'être, mais aussi d'accepter l'inévitable.
Enfin ils ne transforment pas tous leurs désirs en besoins.
Ils choisissent d'être, plutôt que d'avoir et préfèrent l'essentiel à l'accessoire.
Robert Blondin
La chaîne et le peigne
Il y avait une fois, en quelque lieu du monde, deux époux dont l’amour n’avait pas cessé de grandir depuis le jour de leur mariage.
Ils étaient très pauvres et chacun savait que l’autre portait en son cœur un désir inassouvi : lui, avait une montre en or et ambitionnait secrètement d’acquérir, un jour, une chaîne du même métal précieux ; elle, avait de grands et beaux cheveux, et rêvait d’un peigne de nacre pour les serrer sur sa nuque.
Avec les années qui passaient, lui, en était venu à penser au peigne plus qu’à la chaîne de montre ; cependant qu’elle oubliait la nacre en cherchant comment acheter la chaîne rutilante.
Depuis longtemps, ils n’en parlaient plus, mais leur esprit secrètement nourrissait le projet impossible.
Au matin de leurs noces d’or, le mari eut la stupeur de voir son épouse avancer vers lui, les cheveux coupés.
- Qu’as-tu fait, mon amie ?
Elle ouvrit alors ses mains dans lesquelles brillait la chaîne d’or.
Je les ai vendus pour acheter la chaîne qui accompagnera ta montre.
Ma pauvre amie, s’écria-t-il, en ouvrant ses propres mains dans lesquelles resplendissait la nacre, j’ai vendu la montre pour t’acheter le peigne.
Et de tomber dans les bras l’un de l’autre, dépouillés de tout, riches de leur seul amour.
Gérard Bessières
It is you who make your destiny. Do good, be good, and you will get good in return; perform bad deeds, and you reap only bad consequence.
Le voleur de biscuits
Un jour, une dame devait attendre dans une aérogare, car son vol avait quelques heures de retard.
Elle alla dans une boutique pour se trouver un livre, acheta un paquet de biscuits, puis s'assit pour lire.
Bien qu'absorbée dans sa lecture, elle s'aperçut que l'homme à côté d'elle, effronté s'il en fut,
prit un ou deux biscuits dans le paquet posé entre eux.
Elle fit mine de ne rien voir pour éviter un esclandre fâcheux.
Elle lisait, mangeait des biscuits et surveillait le départ des avions, tandis que le «voleur de biscuits» se goinfrait avec ses provisions.
De plus en plus agacée à mesure que le temps passait, elle songea: «Si je n'étais pas si aimable, je le giflerais. »
Chaque fois qu'elle prenait un biscuit, l'homme sans gêne se servait.
Lorsqu'il n'en resta qu'un seul, elle se demanda comment il réagirait.
L'air content, il eut un petit rire nerveux, puis il prit le dernier biscuit et le cassa en deux. .L'homme lui offrit une moitié et mangea sa part.
Lui arrachant des mains, elle se dit: «Je n'en reviens pas, cet homme a du culot et ne pourrait pas être plus impoli, vraiment, il ne me dit même pas merci!»
Elle ne se rappelait pas avoir été aussi exaspérée.
Aussi soupira-t-elle, soulagée, lorsque son vol fut annoncé. Rassemblant ses affaires, elle partit prendre son avion, sans même regarder l'ingrat voleur de provisions.
Une fois à bord et confortablement installée, elle chercha son livre qu'elle avait presque terminé.
En fouillant dans son sac, elle resta bouche bée, ses biscuits étaient là, sous ses yeux étonnés.
«Si mes biscuits sont ici», pensa-t-elle, désespérée, alors les autres étaient les siens, qu'il a bien voulu partager!»
Trop tard pour s'excuser, elle se rendit compte, malheureuse, que c'était elle l'impolie, l'ingrate, la voleuse!
Love sings lullabies, it soothes and calms. Practise the vocabulary of love and unlearn the language of hate and contempt.
L’Amour des parents est le plus beau des cadeaux
Voici une lettre écrite par un enfant qui ne recherche qu'une seule chose: l'amour de ses parents.
"J'aimerais être Félix, notre petit chat, pour être comme lui pris dans vos bras chaque fois que vous revenez à la maison...
J'aimerais parfois être un baladeur pour me sentir écouté par vous deux, sans aucune distinction, n'ayant que mes paroles au bout des oreilles, fredonnant l'écho de ma solitude...
J'aimerais être un journal pour que vous preniez le temps chaque jour de me demander de mes nouvelles...
J'aimerais être une télévision pour ne jamais m'endormir le soir sans avoir été, au moins une fois, regardé avec intérêt...
J'aimerais être une équipe de hockey pour toi papa, afin de te voir t'exciter de joie après chacune de mes victoires et un roman pour toi maman, afin que tu puisses lire mes émotions...
A y bien penser j'aimerais n’être qu'une chose: un cadeau inestimable pour vous deux!
Ne m'achetez rien pour ma fête. Permettez-moi seulement de sentir que : JE SUIS VOTRE ENFANT."
Questions :
1) Lorsque l’enfant envie le petit chat, de quelle Valeur parle-t-il ?
2) Lorsque l’enfant à envie d’être écouté de quelle valeur parle-t-il ?
3) Pourquoi l’enfant demande-t-il que l’on s’intéresse à lui ?
4) Vous est-il arrivé de ressentir ce que ressent cet enfant ?
Reason can prevail only when arguments are advanced without the raising of voices.
The wonder of the things
By Kay Challenor
The horse chestnut tree had been there as long as the children remember. It had also been there as long as their parents could remember and even the children's grandparents could remember playing around its trunk, climbing between the large gnarled roots that twisted and coiled around its base. Such fun they had; games of pirates, Robin Hood and wild animals of a deep dark forest.
All the time the children played, the tree watched, looking over them. Watching as each generation grew up and became men and women, shading them with its branches of leaves which turned from green buds to an array of reds and gold in flow with the seasons.
Now it was conker season. The children were searching underneath the tree, seeking out the green prickly cases and prising them open to reveal the dark treasures.
"Found one!" Timmy yelled holding up his find to show the others.
"'Bout time…Wow! What a whopper!"
Timmy held the chestnut in his hand. The sun caught the deep brown surface and it shone beautifully. It almost looked good enough to eat.
"Bet that'll be a champion. Well done, Timmy, lucky you!"
Timmy smiled at his brother and stuffed the large conker into his coat pocket. The others had found a lot of conkers. Some even had bags full. All of them were eager to win the annual school conker championships. Every year some children tried to find ways of making their conkers harder, to withstand the continuous knocking from others and so become the champion, the strongest conker of all. Some children tried to dry or bake their conkers and others even tried to drill holes into them and fill them with cement. However, they never won. It was realised that the only true champion conkers grew naturally and they were the biggest and ripest ones to fall from the tree.
Tim sat down on the tree roots leaning his back against the trunk. His hand held the conker in his pocket. He could feel the smooth surface against his fingers and he knew that his conker was special.
Two bigger children joined the group. They had already been and collected conkers, but they wanted some more.
"Let's see what you've got," one demanded. He peered into the bag that was offered up for his inspection. "They're not worth anything," he scoffed, "Is that the biggest you have got?"
"Well Timmy found the biggest. He's got it in his pocket."
Timmy watched as the boy walked over towards him scowling.
"Show me," the boy said, leering down over him.
Timmy held the conker in his clenched fist. He knew that the boy was a bully and if he took the conker out from his pocket the boy was likely to snatch it from him.
"No."
The boy glared down at Timmy, a flash of anger on his face. For a moment everything was tense and still, then to Timmy's relief the boy relaxed. "Suit yourself," he said turning to his companion with a shrug. "This kid has found a whopper. There must be more than one, so let's find the others."
"But Si. We've looked everywhere."
The larger boy scowled again. "Then they must be on the tree. Come on. Let's knock them down."
He hunted for a large stick and began to jump up at the overhanging branches, lashing out at the conkers still hanging from the tree.
Timmy jumped, startled. With his back against the tree trunk he was sure that he had felt the tree shudder.
The bigger boy began to get more frustrated. The conkers were beyond his reach and because they were not properly ripe, were stuck ast to the branches. He decided to try a new tactic and, gathering stones, began to hurl them at the tree.
Tim jumped again as he felt a deep rumble beneath him. He could feel the pain of the tree as energy rushed through the tree trunk leaving his back prickling with heat. He flew to his feet.
"Stop it!"
Surprised by his outburst the boy stood still in amazement. Timmy went red in the face but something within him was stirring him to take action and speak his truth.
"You're hurting the tree. Don't you realise that this tree is a living organism and is sensitive to pain?"
The boy gathered himself together. He didn't want to lose face through being shown up by this slip of a child and so picked up another stone. "Yeah, right! Sure this lump of wood has got feelings!" He threw back his arm ready to launch his missile.
Then an amazing thing happened.
A sudden gust of wind blew around the tree. It blew through the leaves causing them to move and rustle and around the branches causing them to creak and clap together. The entire tree appeared to come to life, one moving mass of energy and sound.
The boy stood still in amazement.
"See," said Timmy. "Just because the tree doesn't talk like you and me, just because it doesn't walk and move around them same way we do, doesn't mean that it isn't alive and has feelings."
Timmy felt his conker grow hot in his hand, he took it out from his pocket and reluctantly held it out to the boy. "Here. Don't hurt the tree anymore. You can have my conker."
The boy looked down at Timmy's intense face and at the beautiful conker in his hand. Part of him wanted to snatch it. He could see that it was a special conker and was bound to win all the school tournaments. However, he shook his head.
"Thanks, Tim, but no. It's OK. I had no idea." He looked up at the tree which once again stood motionless and held out his hand to the trunk. He felt the rough bark etched with markings of growth and he studied the gnarled trunk that reflected the tree's history and experiences. As he focused on the tree, the boy became motionless too, transfixed, as if he was part of the tree himself, part of its stillness and experience. Slowly a large smile began to spread across his face and he seemed happy and content as he took his hand away. All his previous anger and tension seeming to have melted from him. "Wow! I felt the tree talk. I could feel a subtle pulsation beneath my fingers and my hand went all hot. Isn't it amazing!"
Timmy smiled, "…And to think," he said. "All that started from one seed just like this!" he held out his conker as it glistened and gleamed. "Magic!"
The other boy grinned. "That really is a beauty Tim. Let's plant it and we can watch it grow. Maybe in the future it will be as large and as amazing as this tree."
Timmy agreed, "Let's!"
The tree responded, rustling its leaves and gently swaying its branches in approval.
Questions:
1).Why were the children collecting conkers?
2). Which conkers usually became champions?
3). Why didn't the conkers fall off the tree, even though the boy threw sticks and stones?
4).How did the tree feel when it was being hit?
5).What did Timmy say to the larger boy?
6).How did the large boy feel when he touched the tree?
7).What did Timmy and the boy agree to do with the conker?
8).What did the large boy learn?
9).How did you feel when you heard the story?
10).Did it remind you of anything in your own life?
The earth is a great enterprise, a busy factory, where the product is love. it is possible to produce love and export it to millions and millions of people who are in need of it. The more it is shared, the deeper it becomes, the sweeter its taste, and the greater the joy.
WHAT IS A FRIEND
By Trudy Road
It was quiet and peaceful in the classroom. Some of the children were reading, while others were finishing their written work.
Jack didn’t feel very well. He had had a tummy upset the day before and he still felt a little unwell, although he didn’t want to go to the school nurse. He decided to tell his teacher, adding that he wanted to stay in the classroom. The teacher asked him if he would like to sit on the sofa in the book corner.
When the teacher looked up from his desk, where he had been helping a child with his Maths, he noticed that another boy, Wasim, had stopped doing his work and was sitting next to Jack, with his arm around him, quietly talking to him. Wasim then took a book to read to his friend. The teacher was very happy to see such caring behaviour. He decided to recommend Wasim for a Certificate of Merit for his caring attitude, which would be presented during morning Assembly.
At break time the children went out to play. Jack, who still felt ill, stayed inside. Wasim asked to stay with him.
The teacher smiled, "What a lovely friend," he thought.
After the break, it was story time, which all the children loved. As the teacher was selecting a book and the children were settling down on the carpet, he noticed that Jack was lying on the sofa on the far side of the room, and his friend, David was reading him a story.
Again the teacher smiled to himself. "Another very caring person," he thought. "Missing his own story time to read to his sick friend. I’ll make two certificates."
Wasim and David smiled happily when the teacher told them they were to be awarded Certificates for special kindness. They were surprised too, because they considered it normal to look after a friend who isn’t feeling well - and now they were to be given an award as well!
"What a strange teacher we have!" they thought later as they proudly collected their certificates.
QUESTIONS:
1).What name would you give to this story?
2).Why did Jack not do his work?
3).What did the teacher say to him?
4).What did Wasim do?
5).Was David a good friend?
6).Why did Wasim and David think it was strange for the teacher to award them a merit for what they had done?
7).How did you feel when you heard the story?
8).Can you think of a time when someone has been a good friend to you? And another?
GROUP ACTIVITY:
1.Group work in fours: Name one person who is a friend and say what it is about them that makes you value their friendship.
2.Why I love my friend? Give each child a copy of the picture of the strawberry. Ask them to write in each section of it a nice word about the friend. Then at the bottom fill in and say why she/he loves his/her friend. The children may want to fill in more than one.
Your future is shaped by the company you keep. So, choose your friends carefully and do not develop too strong an attachment to anyone. Be friendly with all, but do not allow that friendship to grow into bondage.
The lifebuoy
Truth
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