Food For Thought:  A collection of thought-provoking, heart-warming and whimsical writings.

Also see The Awakening and Guardian Angel Prayer.

My Name Is "I AM"

When you thought I wasn't looking:

I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another one.

The Clock of Life

The clock of life is wound but once and no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop, at late or early hour.

To lose one's wealth is sad indeed, to lose one's health is more,
To lose one's soul is such a loss that no man can restore.

The present only is our own, so live, love, toil with a will,
Place no faith in tomorrow -- for the clock may then be still.

Robert H. Smith

The Lady in the Harbor
I wonder what she thought as she stood there, strong and tall.
She couldn't turn away.  She was forced to watch it all.

Did she long to offer comfort as her country bled?
With her arm forever frozen high above her head.

She could not shield her eyes.  She could not hide her face.
She just stared across the water keeping freedoms place.
The smell of smoke and terror somehow reduced her size.
So small within the harbor but still we recognized...
How dignified and beautiful on a day so many died.
I wonder what she thought.  I know she must have cried.

A Million Times

Death

Harry Scott Holland

1847-1915

Expression of the spirit of primitive peoples around the world

Elizabeth Odell

I'm Free

Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free.  I'm following the path God laid for me.

I took His hand when I heard Him call.  I turned my back and left it all.

I could not stay another day to laugh, to love, to work or play.

Tasks left undone must stay that way.  I simply had to go away.

If my parting has left a void, then fill it with remembered joy.

A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss... Ah yes, these things I, too, will miss.

Be not burdened with times of sorrow.  I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.

My life's been full, I savored much.  Good friends, good times, a loved one's touch.

Perhaps my time seemed all too brief.  Don't lengthen it now with undo grief.

Lift up your heart and share with me.  God wanted me now. He set me Free.

Linda Jo Jackson

One Solitary Life

A child is born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman.  He is brought up in another obscure village.  He works in a carpenter shop until he is thirty, and then for three brief years is an itinerant preacher, proclaiming a message and living a life.  He never writes a book.  He never holds an office.  He never raises an army.  He never has a family of his own.  He never owns a home.  He never goes to college.  He never travels two hundred miles from the place where he was born.  He never does any of the things one usually associates with greatness.  He gathers a little group of friends about him and teaches them his way of life.  

While still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turns against him.  His friends run away; one denies him; another betrays him.  He is turned over to his enemies.  He goes through the mockery of a trial.  He is nailed to a cross between two thieves, and when dead is laid in a borrowed grave by the kindness of a friend.  Those are the facts of his human life.  

He rises from the dead.  

Today we look back across two thousand years and ask, what kind of trail has he left across the centuries?  When we try to sum up his influence, all the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat, all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man on this earth as much as that one solitary life...

Dr. James Allen Francis, The Real Jesus and Other Sermons

How Butterflies Came To Be

Often times when the old ones gathered at council they would speak of many things. A number of these stories spoke of the way different things came to be. One such legend told of why butterflies where placed on the earth. As the story goes:  Of all his children, the Great One Tatadios, loved his human children the best. They respected His laws, they gave him great praise, and they were sure to keep the balance. This was the most important law, keeping the balance of nature. "Take only what you need and allow the rest to pass. In this manner there will be for all time." Tatadios told his children.

After years of peace and harmony, He saw all was good and wanted to reward his humans with a special gift. However, when the other children of the forest heard this, they became uneasy and began to complain. The Blue Jays bickered in the branches. The White-tailed Deer ran around excitedly. The bears knocked over trees and bellowed. The Great One became unpleased with this behavior and made the long journey back to his lodge high above the clouds. He was not seen again.

In time all grew quite and harmony prevailed once more. Tatadios never forgot the promise he made to the humans and soon set out to devise a plan. He needed a messenger. Someone who could carry requests from the humans on earth to His sky-lodge high above the clouds. He could not call upon the faithful beaver; for he could only signal with his tail on the water and the sound would not rise above the trees. The birds of the forest could not be trusted. They would only fly to the highest treetops and sing out loud for all the other children to hear. Brother coyote could scale the highest mountains high above the trees, but he would just howl uselessly at the moon.  He decided to create a new creature, one that every child would favor.

First he borrowed a few legs from the spider, for they were silent in their coming and going. Next he shaped the body after that of the swiftest arrow, so it would pass thorough the wind quickly. Then taking the softest feathers from the finest birds, he formed wings that would carry it to the heavens. Using pollen from the most beautiful flowers, he colored their wings with every hue of the rainbow. These he would be sure to notice in the sky surrounding his lodge. However to assure their secrecy he left them silent. They were given neither call or song! By this deed they could tell no one what they have heard. The Great One was pleased with his new child. At once He instructed the humans in their proper use.

"Oh my Children, when it comes time that you desire your rewards, take the lovely butterfly and cup her in your hands. Gently whisper into it's ear how I may please you. When you release it, she will carry your wish to me alone. Do this and your request will be granted." The humans did this and received many wonderful gifts. All was well with all the children of the forest and harmony and peace prevailed once again.

So now my Children if you happen to catch a butterfly or need a wish very badly, whisper it to a butterfly. Then set it free so it may visit with Tatadios and deliver your message, and it will come true! "For you are a human child and by releasing it, you have kept the balance."

Frontier Flint

The Armed Guards

A missionary on furlough told this true story while visiting his home church in Michigan...

"While serving at a small field hospital in Africa, every two weeks I traveled by bicycle through the jungle to a nearby city for supplies. This was a journey of two days and required camping overnight at the halfway point.  On one of these journeys, I arrived in the city where I planned to collect money from a bank, purchase medicine and supplies, and then begin my two-day journey back to the field hospital. Upon arrival in the city, I observed two men fighting, one of whom had been seriously injured. I treated him for his injuries and at the same time talked to him about the Lord, Jesus Christ. I then traveled two days, overnight, and arrived home without incident."

"Two weeks later I repeated my journey. Upon arriving in the city, I was approached by the young man I had treated. He told me that he had known I carried money and medicines. He said, 'Some friends and I followed you into the jungle, knowing you would camp overnight. We planned to kill you and take your money and drugs. But just as we were about to move into your camp, we saw that you were surrounded by 26 armed guards.'  At this I laughed and said that I was certainly all alone out in that jungle campsite.  The young man pressed the point, however, and said, 'No sir, I was not the only person to see the guards. My five friends also saw them, and we all counted them.  It was because of those guards that we were afraid and left you alone.'"

At this point in the sermon, one of the men in the congregation jumped to his feet and interrupted the missionary and asked if he could tell him the exact day that this happened. The missionary told the congregation the date, and the man who interrupted told him this story:  "On the night of your incident in Africa, it was morning here and I was preparing to go play golf. I was about to putt when I felt the urge to pray for you. In fact, the urging of the Lord was so strong, I called men in this church to meet with me here in the sanctuary to pray for you. Would all of those men who met with me on that day please stand up?" The men who had met together to pray that day stood up. The missionary wasn't concerned with who they were -- he was too busy counting how many men he saw.  There were 26.

Mary Stevenson

The Three Trees

Once upon a mountain top, three little trees stood and dreamed of what they wanted to become when they grew up.  The first little tree looked up at the stars and said: "I want to hold treasure. I want to be covered with gold and filled with precious stones. I'll be the most beautiful treasure chest in the world!"  The second little tree looked out at the small stream trickling by on it's way to the ocean. "I want to be traveling mighty waters and carrying powerful kings. I'll be the strongest ship in the world!"  The third little tree looked down into the valley below where busy men and women worked in a busy town. "I don't want to leave the mountain top at all. I want to grow so tall that when people stop to look at me, they'll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God. I will be the tallest tree in the world."

Years passed. The rain came, the sun shone, and the little trees grew tall. One day three woodcutters climbed the mountain. The first woodcutter looked at the first tree and said, "This tree is beautiful. It is perfect for me."  With a swoop of his ax, the first tree fell.  "Now I shall be made into a beautiful chest, I shall hold wonderful treasure!" The first tree said.  The second woodcutter looked at the second tree and said, "This tree is strong. It is perfect for me."  With a swoop of his ax, the second tree fell. "Now I shall sail mighty waters!" thought the second tree. "I shall be a strong ship for mighty kings!"  The third tree felt her heart sink when the last woodcutter looked her way. She stood straight and tall and pointed bravely to heaven. But the woodcutter never even looked up. "Any kind of tree will do for me," he muttered. With a swoop of his ax, the third tree fell.

The first tree rejoiced when the woodcutter brought her to a carpenter's shop. But the carpenter fashioned the tree into a feedbox for animals.  The once beautiful tree was not covered with gold, nor with treasure.  She was coated with saw dust and filled with hay for hungry farm animals.  The second tree smiled when the woodcutter took her to a shipyard, but no mighty sailing ship was made that day. Instead the once strong tree was hammered and sawed into a simple fishing boat. She was too small and too weak to sail to an ocean, or even a river; instead she was taken to a little lake.  The third tree was confused when the woodcutter cut her into strong beams and left her in a lumberyard. "What happened?" The once tall tree wondered. "All I ever wanted was to stay on the mountain top and point to God..."

Many, many days and night passed. The three trees nearly forgot their dreams. But one night, golden starlight poured over the first tree as a young woman placed her newborn baby in the feedbox. "I wish I could make a cradle for him." her husband whispered.  The mother squeezed his hand and smiled as the starlight shone on the smooth and the sturdy wood. "This manger is beautiful." she said.  And suddenly the first tree knew he was holding the greatest treasure in the world.

One evening a tired traveler and his friends crowded into the old fishing boat. The traveler fell asleep as the second tree quietly sailed out into the lake. Soon a thundering and thrashing storm arose. The little tree shuddered. She knew she did not have the strength to carry so many passengers safely through with the wind and the rain.  The tired man awakened. He stood up, stretched out his hand, and said, "Peace."  The storm stopped as quickly as it had begun.  And suddenly the second tree knew she was carrying the king of heaven and earth.

One Friday morning, the third tree was startled when her beams were yanked from the forgotten woodpile. She flinched as she was carried through an angry jeering crowd. She shuddered when soldiers nailed a man's hands to her. She felt ugly and harsh and cruel.  But on Sunday morning, when the sun rose and the earth trembled with joy beneath her, the third tree knew that God's love had changed everything. It had made the first tree beautiful. It had made the second tree strong. And every time people thought of the third tree, they would think of God.  That was better than being the tallest tree in the world.

Author Unknown

Trees

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear a nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.

Joyce Kilmer

Hole in the Fence

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 back of 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." A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one.

Author Unknown

Take a man, then put him alone. Put him 12,000 miles from home.
Empty his heart of all but blood.  Make him live in sweat and mud.
This is the life I have to live and why my soul to the devil I give.
You peace boys rant from your easy chairs but your don’t know what it’s like over there.
You have a ball without near trying while, over there, my buddies are dying.

You burn your draft cards, march at dawn, plant your signs on the White House lawn.

You all want to ban the bomb, "There’s no real war in Vietnam."

Use your drugs and have your fun and then refuse to use a gun.
There's nothing more for you to do and I’m supposed to die for you?

I’ll hate you till the day I die.  You made me hear my buddy cry.

I saw his arm a bloody shred.  I heard them say, "This one's dead."
It’s a large price he had to pay, not to live another day.
He had the guts to fight and die.  He paid the price but what did he buy?
He bought your life, by losing his but who gives a damn what a soldier gives?
His wife does, and maybe his sons.  Maybe they’re not the only ones.

Gary Lee Evans -- killed in combat 9/3/68

Winkin, Blinkin and Nod (or) Dutch Lullaby

Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod, one night sailed off in a wooden shoe; 

Sailed on a river of crystal light into a sea of dew. 

"Where are you going and what do you wish?" the old moon asked the three. 

"We've come to fish for the herring fish that live in this beautiful sea. 

Nets of silver and gold have we," said Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod. 

The old moon laughed and sang a song as they rocked in the wooden shoe. 

And the wind that sped them all night long ruffled the waves of dew. 

Now the little stars are the herring fish that live in that beautiful sea; 

"Cast your nets wherever you wish never afraid are we!" 

So cried the stars to the fishermen three - Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod. 

So all night long their nets they threw to the stars in the twinkling foam. 

'Til down from the skies came the wooden shoe bringing the fishermen home. 

'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed as if it could not be. 

Some folks say 'twas a dream they dreamed of sailing that misty sea. 

But I shall name you the fishermen three - Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod. 

Now Winkin' and Blinkin' are two little eyes and Nod is a little head. 

And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies is a wee ones trundle bed. 

So close your eyes while mother sings of wonderful sights that be. 

And you shall see those beautiful things as you sail on the misty sea 

Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three - Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod.

Eugene Field

Little Boy Blue

Eugene Field

The Elf and the Dormouse
Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf, out of the rain to shelter himself.

Oliver Herford

There's a place that I travel when I want to roam and nobody knows it but me.

The roads don't go there and the signs stay home -- and nobody knows it but me.

It's far, far away and way, way afar. It's over the moon and the sea.

And wherever you're going, that's wherever you are, and nobody knows it but me.

Patrick O'Leary

The Giving Tree

There was once a great apple tree and a little boy. They would spend hours and hours together. The boy would play in the tree's branches, sleep at her roots and eat of her apples. And the tree loved the boy.

One day, the boy came to the tree. The tree was delighted and beckoned, "Come and play!" But the boy was no longer a boy; he was now a young man, and he was interested in making a living, but he didn't know how.  "Here," the tree said, "take my apples and sell them." The young man did just that, and the tree was happy.

Years passed, and the tree was lonely without the young man. One day, he returned, and the tree was delighted, but he was now interested in settling down. He wanted to build a house.  "Here," the tree said, "Cut off my branches and build your house." The young man did just that, and the tree was happy.

Years passed, and the tree still missed her friend. One day, the man returned, and the tree was again overjoyed. But the man was now older and tired of life; he wanted to get away from it all.  "Here," the tree offered, "Cut me down. Make for yourself a boat, and sail the world in it." The man did just that, and the tree was happy.

Many years passed, seasons came and went, and the tree was very lonely. She missed her friend, and she often thought about the old days, when they had such fun. Finally, she saw her friend coming over the hill, and she was delighted.  But the boy was now an old man, no longer able to play or make money or to sail away. And he was tired.  "Here, my friend," the tree said, "I still have a pretty good stump left. Won't you sit and rest?" The old man did that, and the tree was happy.

Shel Silverstein

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus
Dear Editor:

I am 8 years old. Some of my friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says “if you see it in The Sun it’s so.” Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O’Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about hi, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! How dreary would be the world if there was no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see.

No Santa Claus! Thank God, he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

The New York Sun, September 21, 1897 - Francis P. Church

Leader of the Band   -- Lyrics
An only child alone and wild, a cabinet maker's son, 

His hands were meant for different work and his heart was known to none.
He left his home and went his lone and solitary way and he gave to me a gift I know I never can repay.
A quiet man of music, denied a simpler fate.  He tried to be a soldier once but his music wouldn't wait.
He earned his love thru' discipline a thundering velvet hand.
His gentle means of sculpting souls took me years to understand.

The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs thru' my instrument and his song is in my soul.
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man.  I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band.

My brother's lives were different for they heard another call.  One went to Chicago and the other to St. Paul.
And I'm in Colorado when I'm not in some hotel, living out this life I've chose and come to know so well.
I thank you for the music and your stories of the road.  I thank you for the freedom when it came my time to go.
I thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough and papa I don't think I said "I love you" near enough.

The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old 

But his blood runs thru' my instrument and his song is in my soul.
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man.  I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band.
I am the living legacy to the leader of the band.

Dan Fogelberg

Kill an American!     February 18, 2003

You probably missed it in the rush of news last week, but there was actually a report that someone in Pakistan had published in a newspaper an offer of a reward to anyone who killed an American, any American. So an Australian dentist wrote the following to let everyone know what an American is, so they would know when they found one. 

An American is English, or French, or Italian, Irish, German, Spanish, Polish, Russian or Greek. An American may also be Canadian, Mexican, African, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Australian, Iranian, Asian, or Arab, or Pakistani, or Afghan. An American may also be a Cherokee, Osage, Blackfoot, Navaho, Apache, Seminole or one of the many other tribes known as native Americans.

An American is Christian, or he could be Jewish, or Buddhist, or Muslim. In fact, there are more Muslims in America than in Afghanistan. The only difference is that in America they are free to worship as each of them chooses. An American is also free to believe in no religion. For that he will answer only to God, not to the government, or to armed thugs claiming to speak for the government and for God.

An American is from the most prosperous land in the history of the world. The root of that prosperity can be found in the Declaration of Independence, which recognizes the God given right of each person the pursuit of happiness.

An American is generous. Americans have helped out just about every other nation in the world in their time of need. When Afghanistan was overrun by the Soviet army 20 years ago, Americans came with arms and supplies to enable the people to win back their country!  As of the morning of September 11, Americans had given more than any other nation to the poor in Afghanistan.

Americans welcome the best... the best products, the best books, the best music, the best food, the best athletes. But they also welcome the least.

The national symbol of America, the Statue of Liberty, welcomes your tired and your poor, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores, the homeless, tempest tossed. These in fact are the people who built America. Some of them were working in the twin towers the morning of September 11, 2001, earning a better life for their families. I've been told that the World Trade Center victims were from at least 30 other countries, cultures, and first languages, including those that aided and abetted the terrorists.

So you can try to kill an American if you must. Hitler did. So did General Tojo, and Stalin, and Mao Tse-Tung, and every bloodthirsty tyrant in the history of the world. But, in doing so you would just be killing yourself. Because Americans are not a particular people from a particular place. They are the embodiment of the human spirit of freedom. Everyone who holds to that spirit, everywhere, is an American.

Pass this around the world!

For Our Furry Friends

DOG, My Friend
When God had made the earth and sky, the flowers and the trees, 

He then made all the animals and all the birds and bees.

And when His work was finished, not one was quite the same.  

He said, "I'll walk this earth of mine and give each one a name.

So He traveled land and sea and, everywhere He went, 

A little creature followed Him until his strength was spent.  

When all were named upon the earth and in the sky and sea,

The little creature said, "Dear Lord, there's not one left for me."

The Father smiled and softly said, "I've saved you till the end.

I've turned my own name back to front and named you DOG, my friend."

Author Unknown

Rainbow Bridge

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; his eager body begins to quiver. Suddenly, he breaks from the group, flying over the green grass, faster and faster.  You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress that beloved head, and you look once more into those trusting eyes, so long gone from your life, but never absent from your heart. Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge -- together.

Author Unknown

Welcome at Rainbow Bridge
On the morning of September 11, 2001, there was an unprecedented amount of activity at the Rainbow Bridge. Decisions had to be made. They had to be made quickly. And, they were.  

An issue, not often addressed here, is the fact that many residents really have no loved one for whom to wait. Think of the pups who lived and died in hideous puppy mills. No one on earth loved or protected them. What about the many who spent unhappy lives tied in backyards? And, the ones who were abused. Who are they to wait for?  We don't talk about that much up here. We share our loved ones as they arrive, happy to do so. But we all know there is nothing like having your very own person who thinks you are the most special pup in the Heavens.

Last Tuesday morning a request rang out for pups not waiting for specific persons to volunteer for special assignment. An eager, curious crowd surged excitedly forward, each pup wondering what the assignment would be.  They were told by a solemn voice that unexpectedly, all at once, over 4,000 loving people had left Earth long before they were ready. All the pups, as all pups do, felt the humans' pain deep in their own hearts. Without hearing more, there was a clamoring among them - "May I have one to comfort?" "I'll take two, I have a big heart." "I have been saving kisses forever."

One after another they came forward begging for assignment. One cozy-looking fluffy pup hesitantly asked, "Are there any children coming? I would be very comforting for a child 'cause I'm soft and squishy and I always wanted to be hugged." A group of Dalmatians came forward asking to meet the Firemen and be their friends. The larger working breeds offered to greet the Police Officers and make them feel at home. Little dogs volunteered to do what they do best, cuddle and kiss.  Dogs who on earth had never had a kind word or a pat on the head, stepped forward and said, "I will love any human who needs love."  Then all the dogs, wherever on Earth they originally came from, rushed to the Rainbow Bridge and stood waiting, overflowing with love to share - each tail wagging an American Flag.

Alexander Theodore, Bouvier, Forth Year Resident

Christmas Carols

Walkin' In A Doggie Wonderland

Dog tags ring, are you listenin'?  In the lane, snow is glistenin'.

It's yellow (not white).  I've been here tonight. -- Markin' up my winter wonderland.

Smell that tree?  That's my fragrance.  It's a sign for wandering vagrants;

"Avoid where I pee, it's MY property! -- Marked up as my winter wonderland."

In the meadow dad will build a snowman, following the classical design.

Then I'll lift my leg and let it go Man, so all the world will know that it's mine-mine-mine!

Straight from me to the fence post, flows my natural incense boast;

"Stay off my turf, this small piece of earth, -- I marked it as my winter wonderland."

Author Unknown