CRI n°10  2009

part  2

MOVING ROCK

A little boy was spending his Saturday morning playing in his sandbox. He had with him his box of cars and trucks, his plastic pail, and a shiny, red plastic shovel. In the process of creating roads and tunnels in the soft sand, he discovered a large rock in the middle of the sandbox.

The boy dug around the rock, managing to dislodge it from the dirt. With a little bit of struggle, he pushed and nudged the rock across the sandbox by using his feet. (He was a very small boy, and the rock was very large.) When the boy got the rock to the edge of the sandbox however, he found that he couldn't roll it up and over the little wall.

Determined, the little boy shoved, pushed, and pried, but every time he thought he had made some progress, the rock tipped and then fell back into the sandbox. The little boy grunted, struggled, pushed, & shoved; but his only reward was to have the rock roll back, smashing his chubby fingers.
Finally he burst into tears of frustration. All this time the boy's father watched from his living room window as the drama unfolded. At the moment the tears fell, a large shadow fell across the boy and t

he sandbox. It was the boy's father. Gently but firmly he said,
"Son, why didn't” you use all the strength that you had available?"

Defeated, the boy sobbed back,
"But I did, Daddy, I did! I used all the strength that I had!"
"No, son," corrected the father kindly.
"You didn't use all the strength you had. You didn't ask me."
With that the father reached down, picked up the rock and removed it from the sandbox.

Do you have "rocks" in your life that need to be removed? Are you discovering that you don't have what it takes to lift them? There is One who is always available to us and willing to give us the strength we need. Isn't it funny how we try so hard to do things ourselves?

Sweet Tears of Appreciation

It was a week before Christmas, and 10 year old Jenny and her mum were busy shopping in Oxford Street. The street was overflowing with people all hurrying up and down, all trying their very best to get their shopping done. Jenny grabbed tightly on her mum’s hand as she feared she may fall down because of all the people who were rushing and pushing around.
There were large queues at the shops, the cash machines, at the restaurants, even at the toilets!

Jenny was very happy as today her mum had come shopping especially to buy her Christmas present. Jenny had beautiful smile on her face the whole day!

Shopping on the same street was a lovely old lady called Mrs. Thomas. She had just recently recovered from an illness and had decided to come out today to buy, not only Christmas gifts, but also ‘thank you’ gifts for her family and friends who had cared for her during her illness.
Mrs. Thomas had just finished her shopping and was on way home when, all of a sudden, a young man with a blue suit who was in a hurry rushed passed her with such a force that she lost her balance and fell to the ground. As she fell to the ground, she screamed out aloud!

The young man did not notice that Mrs Thomas had fallen and he continued to try to catch his bus. It also seemed that in that very busy street with hundreds of people rushing around, nobody stopped to help Mrs. Thomas… Nobody that is, except for Jenny and her mum. On seeing Mrs. Thomas fall to the ground, Jenny’s mum, without a moment’s hesitation, rushed over to Mrs Thomas to offer her some help. Jenny also went to help.
Mrs. Thomas, it seemed, was in a lot of pain and she could not move her right leg. Her eyes were filled with large tears which ran quickly down and covered her face. Jenny’s mum spoke to Mrs. Thomas softly and calmly and told her not to worry and that everything would be all right. Jenny’s mum then called 999 and explained what had happened. While her mum was on the mobile phone, Jenny spoke sweetly and lovingly to Mrs. Thomas. She gave Mrs. Thomas some tissues to dry her tears and held her hands gently.

Jenny then noticed that, although Mrs. Thomas was still in a lot of pain, she now had a smile on her face and seemed to be looking a little better.
Jenny’s mum comforted Mrs. Thomas and told her that she would only leave when the ambulance arrived. They then picked up Mrs. Thomas’s handbag and her shopping bags and placed them close to her.

Within about 10 minutes the ambulance arrived and Mrs. Thomas was taken to the local hospital. Before getting into the ambulance, Mrs. Thomas thanked both Jenny and her mum for all their help, their comfort and their love. She now cried, not tears of pain but tears of appreciation. The ambulance men also thanked Jenny’s mum for making the call to 999 and for taking care of Mrs. Thomas until they arrived.

Jenny and her mum did not feel like shopping anymore, so they decided to go home. When Jenny thought about how thankful Mrs. Thomas was for their help, how beautiful Mrs. Thomas had smiled, and at the end, her sweet tears of appreciation, Jenny had a warm, lovely feeling in her heart. She realised what a special act she and her mum had done.


Questions:

1) How did you feel when you heard the story?
2) Does the story remind you of anything in your own life?
3) What name would you give to the story?
4) How did you feel when Mrs. Thomas fell to the ground?
5) How did you feel when the man who pushed Mrs. Thomas did not even stop to see if she was all right?
6) How did you feel when Jenny and her mum helped Mrs. Thomas?
7) What did Jenny do to comfort Mrs. Thomas?
8) After comforting Mrs. Thomas, what else did Jenny’s mum do to help her?
 

GOD, IS THAT YOU?

A young man once went to an evening Bible study class. In the course of the meeting, the pastor spoke at length about listening to God and obeying the Lord's voice. The young man could not help but wonder, “Does God still speak to people?”

Now that was an interesting proposition. And when the young man went out with his friends for coffee and snacks after the Study, they discussed the pastor’s message. Some of his friends even shared amazing experiences of how God had guided them at different stages in their lives.

It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home, full of wonder whether God might speak to him. Was it possible? Sitting in his car, he began to pray, “God, if you still speak to people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey.” He said this prayer earnestly and repeated it over and over…
As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought to stop and buy a gallon of milk.

He stopped his car and said out loud, “God is that You?” No response.
“Weird,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and resumed his journey homewards. Hardly had he driven a few yards than the thought ‘Buy a gallon of milk’ filled his mind once more. This time, the thought was overpowering.
“Okay, God, in case that is You, I will buy the milk.” It didn't seem like too hard a
test of obedience. He could always use the milk. So the young man stopped his car, purchased a one-gallon can of milk and started off towards home.

As he passed by a street, the seventh in a row of streets, he felt the urge, 'Turn down that street.'
”This is crazy,” he thought, and drove on past the intersection.
But then again, he felt the compelling impulse to turn down Seventh Street.
“Okay, God, I will,” he said aloud, half-jokingly.

At the next intersection, he veered his car, back to Seventh Street.
He drove past several blocks when, suddenly, he felt that he should stop. So the young man pulled his car up to the curb and looked around. He was in a semi-urbanized area of the town. It wasn't the best of neighbourhoods, but it wasn't the worst of them either. The shops were closed, and in most of the houses, the lights had been put out for the day.

Again, he sensed a voice that said, “Go and give the milk to the people in the house across the street.” The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked as if the inmates of the house were either out, or were already asleep.
The young man started to open the door of the car, but slumped back in his seat.

”Lord, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going to be mad at me, and I will look stupid.” But the feeling to deliver the can of milk would not go away.
”Okay God,” the young man said finally, “If this is You, I will go to that house and hand over this can of milk. If You want me to look like a dingbat, it is Your wish. I want to be obedient. I guess that will count for something. But if they don't answer right away, I’m outta here.”
He walked across the street and rang the doorbell. He could hear the shuffling of feet within. A man bellowed from inside, “Who is it? What do you want?” Sensing the unfriendliness in the voice, the young man turned around to leave, but the door had opened.
A man was standing there in a rumpled t-shirt and jeans. He looked like he had just got out of bed, and not too happy to have some stranger standing at his doorstep. “What is it?” the man asked testily.

The young man thrust out the can of milk, “Here, I brought this for you.” The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway calling out, “Hey honey, look at this!”

Immediately, a woman came out, carrying the milk and a baby. The little one was crying. The man followed his wife out to where the young man stood. Tears streaming down his face, the man began half-speaking and half-crying, “We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk even for our baby. We were just calling out to Him and asking God to show us a way.”
The lady of the house continued, her voice choked with gratitude, “I asked Him to send an angel with some milk. Are you an angel?”

The young man reached into his wallet, pulled out all the money he had with him, and put in the man's hand. Then, he turned and walked back toward his car, tears streaming down his face.

He knew that God still answers prayers. And he knew that obeying God’s voice had the most beautiful results – beyond all imagination.
Sometimes it's the simplest things that God asks us to do. If we pay heed to His call, we can actually hear His voice clearer than ever.
God is always speaking to us. But to listen to Him clearly, we need to shut out the sounds of the world, put our egos aside and make ourselves pure of heart. For,
 

“It is in the depths of silence that the voice of God can be heard.”

Agree to call into question

Little Sara said:” Mother I feel very nice when I go to play at Miriam’s home, why don’t’ we make our home equally good?”

Surprise the mother ask: «Tell me darling what is that you like the most there what we don’t have in our house?”

“Mother, it is not the things or even the toys but something I don’t know that makes me feel happy there. You know mother, Miriam and her parents are very polite with their servants, Miriam addresses her maid as elder sister and her driver as uncle. Mother, Miriam’s servants also love me and take care of me as they do for Miriam.

Mother their house is very calm and quite, no one shout, everyone is happy there, you know including servants. They all, like a good family, pray together.
The surprised mother not knowing how to respond forcefully smiled and walked to her bedroom.

Seated on her rocking chair, without lamps switched on, she went into deep thoughts deliberating, when did she go wrong?
The day begun with shouts for serving bed tea, newspaper, clothes, watering the plants, driving the kid to school and what not. The day ends late in the night with much of the cleaning pending for the next day. The kids average in studies and so many behavioural complaints arrive regularly from the school as well as from the neighbours. Servants always irritated, don’t listen and answer back in the presence of guests. Oh my Lord please help me, guide me, what do I do?

How do I put my house in order? I have miserably failed in my duty. The youngest child in the family has opened my eyes.
Sometime later, Sara’s father came home, threw his office bag on the bed and switched on the lamp. Surprised seeing his wife rocking on the chair, he asked her: “What is it that is bothering you?”

Oh my God! What do I tell you my dear husband? Our little child Sara inadvertently has woken me. You know I have failed as a mother and I have also failed in managing the household well.
Pulling his chair towards her, said the husband: ”Don’t think so much, you are doing very well, I am contented and pretty happy with our household. With Lord’s grace we have two loving sons and two daughters. They give us enough love and keep the house chirpy. They are ok in their studies. What is it that is so serious and   that has made you to deliberate so deeply?”

“Our behaviour, our conduct, our speech, our planning and our way of leading life” said the wife.
Please do not consider it as a complaint but let us go a couple of minutes back. While you entered the bedroom, if I had welcomed you in a lit room smilingly, taken your bag from you and placed it inside the closet, the environment would been different.” Said the wife.

The husband laughed and said: “I understand, I should have not thrown the office bag on the bed.”
“My dear husband, the kids observe us and inadvertently copy us, for them we are the role models. As parents, we need to set good example. Promise me; whenever I slip in my resolve you will lovingly remind me. For improving our home, may I request you cooperation please?
“ Go ahead I am listening”, said the husband.

“I need to be careful in my speech and actions. I need to be with children helping them in their studies need to curtail their time spent in watching TV. I need to, identify programs that would enrich our children e.g. news, current events and sports. Video games need to be  stoped, all together to ensure non to exposure to violence. I need to behave well with the servants especially in front of the children.

Under no situation should I shout on them, rather be ready to bear minor losses but maintain my calm and guide them, correct them with the human touch. Must plan the activities of the day to ensure no late night, ensure getting up early morning and start the day with prayer seeking His blessing” spoke the wife.

“ I see a long list, good, I am convinced, count on me, full support to you, rather I too will conduct the way you have just explained. Only fear is, we may not loose the steam in between, it is a long commitment-may be a life time commitment, or shall say it is the reprogramming of our style life.” Says the husband.

“Thank you very much for the much needed support. Today, I understood the meaning of an old saying ”one and one make eleven”, husband and wife are life partners; they are custodians of the children of the Lord. And we need to be careful rather very careful in handing His property” said the wife.

Father stretched his arms and carried Sara into his lap saying: ”My sunshine has come home.”
 

Parlez-nous des enfants


Et une femme qui portait un enfant dans les bras dit,
Parlez-nous des Enfants.
Et il dit :
Vos enfants ne sont pas vos enfants.
Ils sont les fils et les filles de l'appel de la Vie à elle-même. 

Ils viennent à travers vous mais non de vous.
Et bien qu'ils soient avec vous, ils ne vous appartiennent pas.
Vous pouvez leur donner votre amour mais non point vos pensées,
Car ils ont leurs propres pensées. 

Vous pouvez accueillir leurs corps mais pas leurs âmes,
Car leurs âmes habitent la maison de demain, que vous ne pouvez visiter, 
Pas même dans vos rêves.
Vous pouvez vous efforcer d'être comme eux, 
Mais ne tentez pas de  les faire comme vous.
Car la vie ne va pas en arrière, ni ne s'attarde avec hier. 
 
Vous êtes les arcs par qui vos enfants,
Comme des flèches vivantes, sont projetés.
L'archer voit le but sur le chemin de l'infini, 
Et Il vous tend de Sa puissance pour que 
Ses flèches puissent voler plus loin.
Que votre tension par la main de l'archer soit pour la joie ;
Car de même qu'Il aime la flèche qui vole, 
Il aime l'arc qui est stable.  
 

Khalil Gibran, Le prophète
 

Jason's Triumph 
 

By Jim Bedard

Jason, our first child, had a traumatic birth and was born with cerebral palsy. Although he did not walk until well after he was two years of age, his condition was relatively mild and with plenty of physiotherapy he managed quite well. My wife Margaret and I often comforted him (and each other) as he faced numerous challenges in the early years of his life.

It was heartbreaking to see him regularly chosen last for a baseball team when school children were organizing a game. He never did learn how to ice skate despite a very determined effort and lots of coaching and support from us. It took him forever to learn to ride a bike, and his knees and elbows were tortured in the process. Just the same, he was a happy child and was well liked by his peers throughout elementary school. The most difficult time for Jason came when he began high school.

One afternoon, my wife and I were sitting at our kitchen table when Jason entered our home in tears. He threw his school bag on the floor; undressed to his underwear, and crying he shouted, "I’m never going to school again!" His hair was matted from lunch food and juice that other kids had assaulted him with on the school bus on the way home. We had to wait several hours before he could talk about what had transpired.

A few days earlier, Jason told us he was signing up for the cross-country track and field team at his school. He figured what he lacked in speed, he could make up with endurance. Margaret and I prepared us for an emotional challenge. Nonetheless, as always, we encouraged him to "go for it."
Jason’s balance has always been poor, and he was also the slowest runner at the track. Other runners noticed Jason’s poor gait and would knock him off balance as they lapped him on the track. A simple nudge would send him flying to the dirt. To the amusement of some, he was forced to get up several times over the next few days. But Jason has never been a quitter.

The day of the bus incident, a few older students had continued to entertain themselves by further humiliating Jason. They teased him about his poor performance on the track and made him the target of their one-sided food fight.
After hearing the whole story from Jason, I told him I was going to his school the next day to have a heart-to-heart talk with those kids and inform the principal. He pleaded with me not to. He said it would only make matters worse for him to have his father get involved. He begged me to let him handle it. I told him I would not visit the school as long as he agreed to let me call the vice principal regarding the incident on the bus. He finally agreed. I knew he went to bed that night feeling like he didn’t have a friend in the world.

I called the vice principal about the humiliation on the bus, and it was never repeated. Jason stayed with track and field even though the harassment at the track continued.
One day early that October, we had unexpected snow and freezing rain. The track team was allowed to train indoors that day. Jason asked the coach if he could borrow his stopwatch. He wanted to try and improve his time on the track. As the other kids exercised in the gym, they couldn't help but notice the one lone runner--Jason--plodding through sleet on the snow-covered track.

The next week, the weather returned to normal, and outdoor training resumed. The harassment, however, did not. Each time a member of the track team would pass Jason, he would offer a few words of encouragement.
"Keep going, Jay."
"Don’t give up, Jason."
"You can do it, Jay."
He had earned their respect.

A few weeks later, Jason came in from school noticeably agitated.
"Mom, Dad, sit down," he said.
My heart sank. It had the echo of the food-pelting incident.

He told us something we already knew, that each month students at his high school voted for an "athlete of the month." The coach would list on the chalkboard the names of students who had the best long jump, most points in basketball, and best track times. Then they would hold a vote, and one student would be presented with a certificate and earn the title "athlete of the month." Jason’s name was not on the board that day—-or any other day for that matter. He was last in every activity listed.
But something different happened that day. One of the nominees, who happened to be leading in almost every category, stood up and said, "Sir I would like to nominate Jason for athlete of the month."

The coach, caught by surprise for a moment, looked toward the list of names on the board.
"Jason?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face, as though he couldn't quite place the name. "Oh...Jason."
"He works harder than any of us, Sir," the student continued.
"Well," added the coach, "we will have to have someone second the nomination."
A tear formed in Jason’s eye and began to roll down his cheek as he told us what happened next. "Mom...Dad...everyone in the class put their hand up."
His mother and I, also in tears, looked on as he proudly displayed his certificate.

Whenever I despair, I think of this story. I remind myself that challenges are not overcome by force or by asserting the self, but rather by patient persistence, determination, and a sincere faith in the innate goodness of others.

Jason is in his fourth year of university these days and often holds the highest mark in his class. He works as a teacher’s assistant and plans to go on for his masters. He is also training in the martial arts. Although it seems to be taking him forever to earn his black belt, I have no doubt he'll wear it, and wear it proudly.
 

Jim Bedard lives in Bethany, Ontario, with his wife and four children. Jim is author of 'Lotus in the Fire: The Healing Power of Zen' (Shambhala 99). He has a career in sales and works as the administrator of the Toronto Zen Centre.

À l’aide

Quand on demande de l'aide à l'Univers, il faut s'attendre à la recevoir, mais pas toujours de la façon dont on l'imagine ou l'espère !

Un homme qui avait une croyance infuse en Dieu et qui vivait dans l'abandon le plus total se retrouva un jour au beau milieu de la mer après que son bateau eut fait naufrage. Il implora alors le Seigneur, le suppliant de lui porter assistance et de le sortir du pétrin. Après avoir fait sa demande, il attendit patiemment l'intervention divine. Celle-ci se manifesta immédiatement: le Seigneur fit appel à un pêcheur qui passait par-là et lui demanda d'aller recueillir le pieux naufragé. Ce que celui-ci s'empressa de faire. Mais alors qu'il s'apprêtait à sortir le malheureux de l'eau, ce dernier dit: «Non ! Non ! Pas la peine ! Continue ta route. J'ai demandé à Dieu de me sauver et je suis sûr qu'il le fera; seule ma foi me sauvera !». Et il se noya ! L'histoire parle d'elle-même, n'est-ce pas ?

L'aide que nous envoie l'Univers est parfois si près de nous qu'on a peine à la voir . . .

Texte tiré du livre "Parcelles de sagesse"
 

L'Épicerie du Ciel

Je marchais sur le chemin de la vie, quand j'ai vu une enseigne " Épicerie du Ciel "
Étonné, je jette un coup d'œil à l'intérieur et vois toute une armée d'anges
L'un d'eux m'a tendu un panier et m'a dit :
" Bons achats, choisissez avec soin. "

Tout ce dont un chrétien a besoin était en vente.
J'ai tout d'abord acheté un peu de patience.
Puis l'amour était tout près sur l'étagère…un peu plus loin la compréhension.
Je me suis pris une boîte ou deux de sagesse, quelques sacs de foi.
Je n'ai pu manquer l'Esprit Saint, il était sur toutes les tablettes.
J'ai aussi pris un peu de force et de courage pour continuer ma course.
Puis, je me suis rappelé que j'avais besoin de grâce, et je n'ai pas oublié le salut. Il était gratuit. J'ai alors pensé que j'avais tout ce dont j'avais besoin.
Je me suis dirigé vers la caisse pour régler mes achats.
J'ai alors vu la prière et l'ai mise dans mon panier. La paix et la joie étaient juste là devant moi. J'ai demandé à l'ange combien je lui devais.
Avec un beau sourire il me dit :

" Ami, Jésus a déjà tout payé, il y a longtemps ! "

La prière d’une maman


Seigneur, tu m’as donné des enfants
Et je les aime même si parfois
Je suis morte de fatigue.
Mes rêves sont immenses quand
Je les regarde grandir.

La vie les prend et les emporte
Et je suis peinée de les voir grandir si vite…
Mais je me ravise et je me dis
Que tu me les as prêtés ces enfants
Et qu’ils t’appartiennent.

Je dois leur permettre de faire
Leur expérience de vie,
Mais tu sais que c’est difficile
De voir marcher à contre-sens
Ceux qui sont ta raison de vivre.

Donne-moi le courage et la patience
De toujours les respecter,
De toujours les aimer,
De toujours leur permettre de
Se réaliser selon leurs choix.

 Fais que ma vie soit pour mes enfants
Une lumière allumée qui les guide
Sur les chemins de la vie.
Je m’agenouille pour leur
Apprendre à prier.

Mon mari et moi, on s’aime tendrement
Pour leur apprendre à aimer.
Tous les deux, nous travaillons dur
Pour leur apprendre à travailler.

 Mais que restera t’il, Seigneur,
De tout ce qu’on leur aura donné?
Je te les donne mes enfants.
Je les remets entre tes mains.

Je ferai de mon mieux, au jour le jour,
Pour les rendre responsable de leur vie.
Donne-moi assez d’amour pour les
Comprendre s’ils prennent des chemins qui me déroutent…
Donne-moi assez d’amour pour les
Accueillir quand ils reviendront.

Je te le demande Marie,
Toi qui as cherché Jésus…
Je te le demande Marie,
Toi qui devinais Jésus…
Fais que je devine mes enfants
Pour leur renouveler quotidiennement
Ma tendresse…Ils en ont tant besoin!
Lady Jo