The Dash

I read of a reverend who stood to speak at the funeral of his friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone from the beginning...to the end.
He noted that first was the date of her birth and spoke of the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time that she spent alive on earth,
and now only those who loved her know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own; the cars, the house, the cash.
What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard, are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left. (You could be at "dash mid-range.")
If we could just slow down enough to consider what's true and real,
and always try to understand the way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger, and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives like we've never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect, and more often wear a smile,
remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy is being read with your life's actions to rehash...
would you be pleased with the things they say about how you spent your dash?

Sermons We See

IÕd rather see a sermon than hear one--any day.
IÕd rather one should walk with me, than merely show the way.
The eyes a better pupil and more willing than the ear;
Fine council is confusing, but example is always clear.
The best of all the preachers are the men who live their creeds,
For, to see the good action is what everybody needs.
I can say, IÕll learn how to do it if youÕll let me see it done;
I can watch your hand in action though your tongue too fast may run.
Although the lectures you deliver may be very wise and true,
IÕd rather learn my lesson by observing what you do;
For I may misunderstand you and fine advice you give,
But itÕs not misunderstanding how you act and how you live.

Edgar A. Guest

The Hummingbird

Once, long ago, there was a young boy who lived in a distant land called Tandow.

He was a cheerful lad with not a care in the world. A special friend had he, the little blue humming bird. Now this little boy don't have a lot of great friends, but the little bird and the boy were inseparable friends.

The boy loved the little humming bird so, He built him a home. The bird also loved the boy and would follow him wherever he would go. As time went by their love grew and grew.

Then one day the young lad met a pretty young girl in school. The girl had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a cute little smile. This was about the time of the biggest dance of the year. All the boy could think about was how he would love to take the girl to the dance. He gathered his courage all day and at the end of school confronted the girl and asked her to go with him to the dance. Now this young girl was very popular and felt she did not want to be seen with the boy who cared for her so, she did not want to hurt his feelings and so figured out a way to avoid saying no or yes. she told the boy if he bought her a red rose she would escort him to the dance. This hurt the little boy because he knew that in the land of Tandow there had never been a red rose, in fact the only roses in the land of Tandow were white. On the way home the boy kept mumbling to himself why couldn't she have asked for a white rose. There were hundreds of them in his front yard.

Feeling sorry for himself the boy didn't even notice his friend the humming bird fluttering above him. Now the bird loved him so, that it could tell instantly the boy was troubled.

The bird hovered closer as the boy mumbled on home. Now the bird knew why the bird was so troubled.

The bird could not rest all the night long, it pondered all night, a solution to the boy's problem. finally as the sun began to rise the answer to how the bird could help his best friend entered his mind.

The little blue humming bird flew to a rose bush and searched for a large rose with a stem bearing thorns directly above it. Now the bird chose a thorn and with all the power in his wings cast his small body against the sharp thorn. It entered with great pan, as the tear drops of blood fell upon the white petals of the rose.

Now as the boy was ready for school, as he left the house he saw a red rose, he could hardly believe it, he ran to the bush and plucked the red rose. In his excitement he failed to notice the lifeless little body that lay below the bush in a puddle of blood.

Happy as could be, he began with his red rose on his way to school. Before he got there some other boys playing football in a field called to him and asked him to come and play. His first thought was, no he had something more important to do. But they begged him and said they really needed him to even the teams. He looked at the rose, then them, then back at the rose. He said to himself. Ah!!! she didn't really want to go with me anyway. Then throwing the rose down the boy went and played football.