THE FLIGHT HOME

Years ago, a friend told me a story about the most frightening, yet thought-provoking experience of his life. His executive responsibilities had taken him all over the country and around the world, but one particular flight had completely changed his perspective on life. 

He told of an experience that he’d had on one particular flight.  A severe rain storm had seized the plane and caused fear to overcome his otherwise rational thinking. The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: Fasten your seat belts. Then, after a while, a calm voice said, "We shall not be serving beverages at this time as we are expecting turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened."

He explained that as he looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive. Later, the voice of the attendant said, "We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time. There are turbulence still ahead."

The storm broke and ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightening lit up the darkening skies and within moments that large plane was like a cork being tossed about on a celestial ocean. One moment the airplane was lifted on the unforgiving currents of air and the next, it plummeted through the air.

The man confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him and he said, "As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed and some were praying. The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it safely through the storm.

Then, he suddenly noticed a little girl sitting across the isle and it was clear the storm meant nothing to her. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on the seat; she was reading a book and every thing within her small world was calm and orderly. Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again or straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world: not when the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm, when it lurched this way and that, or as it rose and fell with alarming severity.  When all the adults were frightened beyond words, that marvelous innocent child was completely composed and unafraid.

It was not surprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurrying to disembark, the man lingered to speak to the young girl whom he had watched  with amazement. Having commented about the storm and behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid.

The sweet child replied, "Sir, my Dad is the pilot, and he is taking me home."

There are many kinds of storms that buffet us: physical, mental, financial and domestic.  There are storms that can easily and quickly darken our skies and throw our lives into an apparent uncontrollable frenzy. We have all known such times, and let us be honest and confess, it is much easier to be at rest when our feet are on the ground than when we are being tossed about in the darkness. 

During the trials and difficulties of life, let us always remember to have faith in our Heavenly Father, who is the Pilot, and in the Lord, who is at the controls, for they are taking us safely home.  LindaSumnerUrza for: onefineday11.blogspot.com

THE CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

For many of us, one Christmas stands out from all the others, the one when the meaning of the day shone clearest.

Although I did not guess it, my own truest Christmas began on a rainy spring day in the bleakest year of my life. Recently divorced, I was in my 20's, had no job, and was on my way downtown to go the rounds of the employment offices. I had no umbrella, for my old one had fallen apart, and I could not afford another one. I sat down in the streetcar, and there against the seat was a beautiful silk umbrella with a silver handle inlaid with gold and flecks of bright enamel. I had never seen anything so lovely.

I examined the handle and saw a name engraved among the golden scrolls. The usual procedure would have been to turn in the umbrella to the conductor, but on impulse I decided to take it with me and find the owner myself. I got off the streetcar in a downpour and thankfully opened the umbrella to protect myself. Then I searched a telephone book for the name on the umbrella and found it. I called, and a lady answered.

Yes, she said in surprise, that was her umbrella which her parents, now dead, had given her for a birthday present. But, she added, it had been stolen from her locker at school (she was a teacher) more than a year before. She was so excited that I forgot I was looking for a job and went directly to her small house. She took the umbrella, and her eyes filled with tears.

The teacher wanted to give me a reward, but -- though $20 was all I had in the world - - her happiness at retrieving this special possession was such that to have accepted money would have spoiled something. We talked for a while, and I must have given her my address. I don't remember.

The next six months were wretched. I was able to obtain only temporary employment here and there, for a small salary, though this was what they now call the Roaring Twenties. But I put aside 25 or 50 cents when I could afford it for my little girls Christmas presents. (It took me six months to save $8.) My last job ended the day before Christmas, my $30 rent was soon due, and I had $15 to my name -- which Peggy and I would need for food. She was home from her convent boarding school and was excitedly looking forward to her gifts the next day, which I had already purchased. I had bought her a small tree, and we were going to decorate it that night.

The stormy air was full of the sound of Christmas merriment as I walked from the streetcar to my small apartment. Bells rang and children shouted in the bitter dusk of the evening, and windows were lighted and everyone was running and laughing. But there would be no Christmas for me, I knew, no gifts, no remembrance whatsoever. As I struggled through the snowdrifts, I just about reached the lowest point in my life. Unless a miracle happened I would be homeless in January, foodless, jobless. I had prayed steadily for weeks, and there had been no answer but this coldness and darkness, this harsh air, this abandonment. God and men had completely forgotten me. I felt old as death, and as lonely. What was to become of us?

I looked in my mailbox. There were only bills in it, a sheaf of them, and two white envelopes which I was sure contained more bills. I went up three dusty flights of stairs, and I cried, shivering in my thin coat. But I made myself smile so I could greet my little daughter with a pretense of happiness. She opened the door for me and threw herself in my arms, screaming joyously and demanding that we decorate the tree immediately.

Peggy was not yet six years old, and had been alone all day while I worked. She had set our kitchen table for our evening meal, proudly, and put pans out and the three cans of food which would be our dinner. For some reason, when I looked at those pans and cans, I felt broken-hearted. We would have only hamburgers for our Christmas dinner tomorrow, and gelatin. I stood in the cold little kitchen, and misery overwhelmed me. For the first time in my life, I doubted the existence of God and His mercy, and the coldness in my heart was colder than ice.

The doorbell rang, and Peggy ran fleetly to answer it, calling that it must be Santa Claus. Then I heard a man talking heartily to her and went to the door. He was a delivery man, and his arms were full of big parcels, and he was laughing at my child's frenzied joy and her dancing. This is a mistake, I said, but he read the name on the parcels, and they were for me. When he had gone I could only stare at the boxes. Peggy and I sat on the floor and opened them. A huge doll, three times the size of the one I had bought for her. Gloves. Candy. A beautiful leather purse. Incredible! I looked for the name of the sender. It was the teacher, the address simply California, where she had moved.

Our dinner that night was the most delicious I had ever eaten. I could only pray to myself, Thank You, Father. I forgot I had no money for the rent and only $15 in my purse and no job. My child and I ate and laughed together in happiness. Then we decorated the little tree and marveled at it. I put Peggy to bed and set up her gifts around the tree, and a sweet peace flooded me like a benediction. I had some hope again. I could even examine the sheaf of bills without cringing. Then I opened the two white envelopes. One contained a check for $30 from a company I had worked for briefly in the summer. It was, said a note, my Christmas bonus. My rent!

The other envelope was an offer of a permanent position with the government -- to begin in two days after Christmas. I sat with the letter in my hand and the check on the table before me, and I think that was the most joyful moment of my life up to that time.

The church bells began to ring. I hurriedly looked at my child, who was sleeping blissfully, and ran down to the street. Everywhere people were walking to church to celebrate the birth of the Saviour. People smiled at me and I smiled back. The storm had stopped, the sky was pure and glittering with stars.

The Lord is born! Sang the bells to the crystal night and the laughing darkness. Someone began to sing, Come, all ye faithful! I joined in and sang with the strangers all about me.

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all.

And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. For this is still the time God chooses.

                                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

I read this story ever year on Christmas Eve when my children were younger.  It's one of my most cherished. I guess it because there is something for everyone in this story of miracles.  Merry Christmas and may God bless you and your loved ones. 

(Taylor Caldwell (September 7, 1900 - August 30, 1985) wrote this story. She was a prolific and best-selling American author.) 

THE LOVING HAND OF HUMANITY

(If you haven't read the blog just below this one titled, 'Have you seen my son?' you will want to read it first in order to fully understand this story.) Scroll down, it's posted below.

It was December 6, 2013.  I left my home in the evening to buy a few holiday decorations. I spent several hours looking for the things that I needed. When checking out, I was surprised at the expense of such few items. 'Oh well, after all it's Christmas!' I told myself.

The next morning I awoke to a storm that had covered our landscape with a white blanket of powdery snow.  Since I live in the southern most tip of Utah, next to the Arizona boarder, this was a shocker - especially to my 20 foot palm trees! Around 10 o'clock there was a knock at the front door and when I opened it, there stood my son, Jared. He had a distressful look on his face, as he pointed to a man sitting in the passengers seat of his car. He explained that the man was homeless and he'd found him by the side of the road; he was jogging to keep warm. The young man didn't have a coat, hat, or gloves and his clothing was drenched from the falling snow. Jared, who had once been homeless himself, knew what that was like at its worst and I could feel the pain riveting through his countenance.

 "I need to help him, Mom!" He declared. "He doesn't have anyone who cares about him like I have, he'll freeze in this weather!"

I motioned for the man to come into my home. Through our conversation, I learned that he was living underneath the bridge, just outside of town.  He appeared to be around the age of 25 and presented himself in a kind and courteous way. Then I heard a silent message that whispered ever so gently to my heart, "He's somebody's son"and I struggled to clear the lump in my throat.  At that moment I reflected back to the many prayers I had offered when Jared was homeless; I had pleaded for his safety and that he would to fall into the hands of good and kind people who would provide for his needs.

I found the young man some warm clothing and wool socks to replace his wet ones.  He was very gracious, but reluctant to accept the items.  I assured him that it was given with love and concern for his well-being. Then what happened next sufficiently humbled me.  I watched the miracles of God bring the blessings of my prayers full circle and within the walls of my own home.  Jared took off his down ski parka and placed it upon the man's shoulders.  Then he opened his wallet and gave a large amount of cash, which I assure you was 40 times more than most people give to those living on the streets. Then he said, "I want to take you to get a hot meal - - someplace where you can get warm."

My heart was overcome with emotions and it was difficult to hold back the tears. Once I had prayed for someone to deliver my son from the cold and now he was reaching out to deliver another!  I watched as Jared, without hesitation, stretch out the loving hand of humanity to lift this man to his feet.

After they left my home, I sat down and looked around the room.  All the lavish decorations adorning my home had little to no value compared to the experience that I had just witnessed.  I looked at the fireplace burning with glowing embers and burst into tears.  I thought about all my blessings and like millions of others just like me, I had never been homeless!  I had never wandered the streets looking for my next meal!  I had never battled the bitterness of the unforgiving elements!  I had never feared for my life in the solitary darkness of a cruel world!  For a brief moment, God had allowed me to see a glimpse of the sacrifice that others endure to teach me of the plan of salvation. The plan to soften hearts, the plan to teach charity, the plan to evoke compassion, forgiveness, and eternal love.  For a spit second, I realized that these experiences are given to all of us - that we may be inspired to change the world in which we live!

May we celebrate the true meaning of the Lord's birth by giving the gift of hope, love and charity to those who need it the most. May we look for every opportunity to lighten another's load through the pure love of Christ.  John 13: 34-35 "A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love one to another." Written by Linda Sumner Urza for: onefineday11.blogspot.com

  (A special thanks to Jared for striving to make the world a better place in which to live.)

"Have You Seen My Son?"

We are a remarkable and resilient people.  When the storms in life come to blow away our dreams, we build new ones.  We are inherently good and kind, always looking for an opportunity to lend a hand in the service of our fellow man.  We love our children and as we tuck them safely in their beds at night, we pray that no harm will come to them.  

We plant our gardens, water our flowers and wave affectionally to our friends and neighbors. We defend our country and the people who live in this great land; even at the sacrifice of our own lives.  We are a people of abundance, living in a world that overflows with resources. For those fortunate enough to be living the American dream, the world keeps spinning around and around, but this is not the perspective of everyone. There are many homeless wanderers who suffer beyond compare as childhood dreams are trapped within the nightmares of reality. 

They are those who walk the city streets with no destination in mind, for there is no place for them to go. There is nothing to shield them from the elements and constant hunger is their greatest enemy. They may go several days without food and the pain in their abdomen feels like shards of glass against the lining of their stomach.  

Each day becomes a burden while the judgements of mankind fall upon their heads and adding to their overwhelmingly heavy load.  No one would choose this lot in life!  While their days are filled with confusion and their nights with fear, they live in a world that is spinning wildly out of control.  This was the black abyss that consumed my son, Jared, when he was 24 years old. 

When he was 18, he was extremely bright, articulate, and full of promise.  A few weeks after high school graduation, he was hired by an architectural firm and later moved to Arizona where he held a promising position with Charles Schwab.  We were amazed with his abilities and there seemed to be no limit to his talents.  Jared was living the American dream, until his life unraveled, one broken thread at a time. Within a matter of months his world had completely dissolved!  Jared’s gifted mind was slowly being consumed and devoured by a severe form of mental illness called schizophrenia. 

The madness began in the fall of 1999 when he noticed a high pitched ringing sound in his ears; this made it very difficult for him to sleep at night and impossible to concentrate during the day.  Then he began to hear voices chattering in his head and he began to perceive things that were not tangible.  At first these experiences were random and then they came more frequently, until it was impossible for him to formulate complete thoughts.  The illness increased his anxiety with such intensity that he tried desperately to hide the symptoms from our family.  He began to withdraw from any form of personal interaction with friends and family.   

As Jared isolated himself from the world around him and he became extremely paranoid, with an obsessive, compulsive behavior.  It was not long until his condition worsened and it became impossible for him to preform at work.  One day, he walked away from his life, into the city streets and refused to look back!  

He disappeared from our family’s radar and as the months passed by, there were times when we didn’t know if he was dead or alive.  People who live on the streets seem to have an uncanny ability to disappear into thin air and Jared was no exception.  I would stay awake nights and cry myself to sleep, wondering where my son could be and what living hell he must have to endure.  

Do you have any idea how many prayers a mother can cry out over a period of eleven years?  I can tell you exactly how many!  I prayed that he would fall into the hands of good people who would see beyond his outer appearance and into his the center of his heart. I prayed that these people would have mercy upon him. I prayed for him to come in contact with those who could feel the burdens resting upon his shoulders and reach out to ease his pain.  I prayed that if he were hungry, a kind stranger would offer him food and clean water to drink.  I prayed when it was cold that those of abundance would share their warm clothing with him and that he would have a soft place to rest his head.  But, the most important prayer that left my lips was that Jared would come home safely to our family, we all loved him and he deserved to be loved!  

When we found Jared in November of 2008, he was hardly recognizable and with little resemblance of the beautiful man that is our brother and son.  His life on the streets had afflicted his health and taken a toll on his life.  He appeared to be a man between the ages of 55 to 60 years old!  His handsome 6'3" frame weighed slightly over 120 pounds and by this time his level of communication was nearly incoherent.  Jared had been beaten and robbed several times. He was living day to day on food from the food bank and wandering from place to place.  The light in his eyes had gone completely dim and he resembled that of a frightened little child!  

I appealed to the judge for a court order to sentence Jared to the hospital for evaluation, but getting the courts to take action against someone’s will is very difficult.  Jared would not voluntarily admit himself into a clinic.  Finally, the judge signed the order and he was placed in the hospital for mental evaluation and treatment.  Today, he has regained his mental health and through proper medication he is living a healthy and constructive life.

Statistics state that over 54 million people suffer from mental health issues in the United States alone and over 2.5 million of those cases are diagnosed with schizophrenia.  Most commonly, this disease affects young productive individuals in their early twenties and without signs of warning it becomes the silent destroyer. 

Many people who suffer from this debilitating illness are living on the streets.  Due to the nature of this disease, they fail to recognize that they are seriously disabled.  There are thousands of parents who spend their lives searching the streets and asking the frightening question, “Have you seen my child?”

The next time you see someone less fortunate than you along the roadside, will you remember Jared’s story?  There are those who walk among us and each day is an uphill battle...  they may be pushing all their earthly belongings in a shopping cart or reaching out for a little spare change.  Perhaps they are holding a sign requesting something specific.  Please remember, giving them a little bit of something is far better for them  than having a lot of nothing!   Will you be so kind as to rise above the judgements of the world and stretch out your hand to comfort this soul, for they are someone’s child!     by, Linda Sumner Urza, One Fine Day

I once cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet. -Anonymous

 

MENTALLY STRONG & MORALLY DRIVEN

Mentally strong people have healthy habits. They manage their emotions, thoughts, and behaviors in ways that set them up for success in life. Check out these things that mentally strong people do to make their lives successful.

1. They Don’t Waste Time Feeling Sorry for Themselves

Mentally strong people don’t sit around feeling sorry about their circumstances or how others have treated them. Instead, they take responsibility for their role in life and understand that life isn’t always easy or fair.

2. They Don’t Give Away Their Power

They don’t allow others to control them, and they don’t give someone else power over them. They don’t say things like, “My boss makes me feel bad,” because they understand that they are in control over their own emotions and they have a choice in how they respond.

3. They Don’t Shy Away from Change

Mentally strong people don’t try to avoid change. Instead, they welcome positive change and are willing to be flexible. They understand that change is inevitable and believe in their abilities to adapt.

4. They Don’t Waste Energy on Things They Can’t Control

You won’t hear a mentally strong person complaining over lost luggage or traffic jams. Instead, they focus on what they can control in their lives. They recognize that sometimes, the only thing they can control is their attitude.

5. They Don’t Worry About Pleasing Everyone

Mentally strong people recognize that they don’t need to please everyone all the time. They’re not afraid to say no or speak up when necessary. They strive to be kind and fair, but can handle other people being upset if they didn’t make them happy.

6. They Don’t Fear Taking Calculated Risks

They don’t take reckless or foolish risks, but don’t mind taking calculated risks. Mentally strong people spend time weighing the risks and benefits before making a big decision, and they’re fully informed of the potential downsides before they take action.

7. They Don’t Dwell on the Past

Mentally strong people don’t waste time dwelling on the past and wishing things could be different. They acknowledge their past and can say what they’ve learned from it. However, they don’t constantly relive bad experiences or fantasize about the glory days. Instead, they live for the present and plan for the future.

8. They Don’t Make the Same Mistakes Over and Over

Mentally strong people accept responsibility for their behavior and learn from their past mistakes. As a result, they don’t keep repeating those mistakes over and over. Instead, they move on and make better decisions in the future.

9. They Don’t Resent Other People’s Success

Mentally strong people can appreciate and celebrate other people’s success in life. They don’t grow jealous or feel cheated when others surpass them. Instead, they recognize that success comes with hard work, and they are willing to work hard for their own chance at success.

10. They Don’t Give Up After the First Failure

Mentally strong people don’t view failure as a reason to give up. Instead, they use failure as an opportunity to grow and improve. They are willing to keep trying until they get it right.

11. They Don’t Fear Alone Time

Mentally strong people can tolerate being alone and they don’t fear silence. They aren’t afraid to be alone with their thoughts and they can use downtime to be productive. They enjoy their own company and aren’t dependent on others for companionship and entertainment all the time but instead can be happy alone.

12. They Don’t Feel the World Owes Them Anything

Mentally strong people don’t feel entitled to things in life. They weren’t born with a mentality that others would take care of them or that the world must give them something. Instead, they look for opportunities based on their own merits.

13. They Don’t Expect Immediate Results

Whether they are working on improving their health or getting a new business off the ground, mentally strong people don’t expect immediate results. Instead, they apply their skills and time to the best of their ability and understand that real change takes time.

A CHANGE OF HEART

 An older boy and his young friend were walking along a road which led through a field. They saw an old coat and a badly worn pair of men’s shoes by the roadside, and in the distance they saw the owner working in the field.

The younger boy suggested that they hide the shoes, conceal themselves, and watch the perplexity on the owner’s face when he returned.

The older boy thought that would not be so good. He said the owner must be a very poor man. So, after talking the matter over, at his suggestion, they concluded to try another experiment. Instead of hiding the shoes, they would put a silver dollar in each one and see what the owner did when he discovered the money. So that is what the young boy did.

Soon the man returned from the field, put on his coat, took off his work boots and slipped one foot into a shoe.  He felt something hard, took it out and found a silver dollar. Wonder and surprise shone upon his face. He looked at the dollar again and again, turned around and could see nobody, then proceeded to put on the other shoe; when to his great surprise he found another silver dollar. His feelings overcame him and he began to weep.  He knelt down and offered aloud a prayer of thanksgiving, in which he spoke of his wife being sick and helpless and his children - who were without bread.  He fervently thanked the Lord for this bounty from unknown hands and evoked the blessing of heaven upon those who gave him this needed help.

The boys remained hidden until he had gone. They had been touched by his prayer and felt something warm within their hearts. As they left to walk down the road, the older boy said to the other, “Don’t you have a good feeling?”  

(This story was told to Gordon B. Hinckley when he was a young boy by his father. I can feel the gratitude swell in the hearts of the "givers and the receiver" and a spirit of love that changed their lives.) Shared by Linda Sumner Urza for: onefineday11.blogspot.com

YOU ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH!

THESE ARE TOUCHING WORDS THAT SHOOT STRAIGHT TO THE HEART! IF YOU HAVE EVER BEEN BULLIED, THEN YOU MAY HAVE EXPERIENCED THE PAIN DEPICTED IN THIS VIDEO. WHAT YOU DON'T KNOW IS, THAT THROUGH IT ALL, THERE'S A MIRACLE HAPPENING AND THAT THE MIRACLE IS YOU!

PARENTS CAN BECOME BULLIES TOO. DON'T TALK DOWN TO YOUR CHILDREN, IT DESTROYS SELF IMAGE AND DECREASES THEIR ABILITY TO RISE TO THEIR HIGHEST POTENTIAL.

INTEGRITY VS ENTITLEMENT

I grew up in the 50’s, graduated high school in the 60‘s and married in the 70’s.  Like most baby boomers, I came from hard working parents who considered it an insult to take hand outs and they certainly didn’t expect “something for nothing.”  

Counting my father, mother and siblings, the total of our family was eleven. My father had full time employment with a second job on the side and my mother worked six days a week (eight to ten hour days). My father was a mechanic during the day, did janitorial work in the evenings at the University and my mother was a chef. They worked their entire lives, well into their late 60's. They taught us that we could have anything in this life through hard work and with the incentive to improve our lives. It's the effort and desire to excel that brings on success.

We never had health insurance, dental insurance and certainly didn’t have monthly welfare checks coming to our address. We learned how to bandage our own wounds, wrap sprained ankles, gargle with salt water and pull out loose teeth with a pair of pliers. If my parents anticipated running out of money before the end of the month, they carefully budgeted and we made it through! There were great lessons in learning to manage our resources, which instilled a flawless sense of self worth (a valuable attribute that's disappearing from our culture). 

We always got a new pair of shoes when school started and if the soles wore out before our toes reached the end, we used duct tape to hold the shoe together. I was the youngest in the family and by the time the hand-me-downs got passed on to me, they were threads. Christmas time, we got one or two gifts, such as new underwear, a coat, or winter boots. We were just grateful for anything that was new and if there happened to be a toy, we were ecstatic! 

I don’t remember anyone suffering from depression. We were all too busy to be depressed. As kids, we learned how to mow lawns, clean houses, babysit, plant a garden, pull weeds, chop wood, deliver newspapers, shovel snow, cook, sew, etc., and we didn’t expect a dime for doing these chores. It was our contribution and we are better people today for having done so. We didn’t have a sense of entitlement for anything, we were taught to believe in ourselves and the ability to achieve our own level of excellence.

When I look at our society today, I am shocked at the "sense of entitlement" and the level of apathy that exists. There is a similar laziness that mimics the story of the 'Grasshopper and the Ant.' The ant worked tirelessly to store up for the winter, while the grasshopper ignorantly neglected his personal responsibilities. When winter came, the grasshopper realized that he had nothing and that's when he decided that he deserved to take the ants portion. The grasshopper's laziness had created weaknesses of irresponsible which manifested itself in rationalization, a sense of entitlement, deceit, and theft. He could have provided adequately for himself, but he chose to be less than what he was capable of becoming.

I would like my grandchildren to understand the integrity of their heritage and to follow in those footsteps. I want them to know that the generations before them built this country on the foundation of hard work and integrity. They were a heritage of people who lived the virtue of sacrifice by giving something good (their lives) to make something better (your lives). They were God loving people with patriotism beyond reproach and they are of those whom made this country great! Now, its up to you. Linda Sumner Urza, written for: onefineday11.blogspot.com

THE PRICE OF FREEDOM

Yesterday, I was sitting in the Austin airport waiting for a flight home.  There was an announcement over the intercom that brought everyone to their feet.  Southwest Airlines made the announcement that 107 year old Veteran, Richard Overton, would be coming down the gateway to catch a flight to Washington, DC.  Today, Monday, November 11, 2013, he is attending a special ceremony honored by the President of the United States.  

The announcer requested that everyone stand and applaud Mr. Overton’s presence. The experience was overwhelming and emotional for me, as I watched a family member wheel Overton through the airport.  Everyone stood and applauded with great reception. This gentleman bowed his head to receive the admiration and respect of his fellow patriots. It was clear that even the younger generation of travelers understood that something of great value was happening.

Richard Arvine Overton served in World War II out of the respect he had for his country.  He saw many of his fellow soldiers fall in the line of duty and even more die over the following decades. Overton is believed to be the nation's oldest veteran. He was traveling to Washington, D.C., as part of “Honor Flight,” a nonprofit group that transports veterans free of charge to memorials dedicated to their service.

I will never forget the feeling of pride that I had, as I stood with my fellow Americans, in honor of one man’s commitment to protect his country.  The halls were filled with respect as he slowly passed by us and my heart was touched by the level of humility and integrity present.  

Today, may we remember our Veterans and all American Soldiers; it’s through their willingness to lay down their lives for freedom and democracy that we walk our streets in peace and harmony.  Without their watchful eye, this country would not find rest in a world filled with chaos.  Linda Sumner Urza, written for: onefineday11.blogspot.com 

THE STRENGTH OF THE LITTLE SEED

I learned a valuable lesson a number of years ago when I visited the Grand Canyon in Arizona. We were at the North rim when the naturalist guide showed us a twisted, gnarled, old juniper tree which was literally growing out of the rock canyon wall by the lookout point. We wondered how it could possibly continue to grow. Then our guide told us an interesting bit of history accompanying this old tree.

A juniper seed is shaped somewhat like a cantaloupe seed.  One of these little seeds fell into a crevice near the edge of the canyon wall. Everything was solid rock. It appeared that the seed could not possibly germinate since there was no soil, little if any water, and virtually no sunshine down in the crevice. Yet this little seed was not concerned about these limitaions.  It had but one burning desire and that was to fulfill the measure of its creation.

In a manner that we cannot fathom, that little seed germinated, implanted roots into that solid rock, and began to grow.  Gradually it raised a shoot through the crevice where it could see sunshine and a little rain.

As it continued to grow and expand into a full-fledged, though misshapen, tree, its trunk and its roots began to exert a continuing pressure on the outer ledge of the rock.  Finally, the pressure became so great that one entire large section of the canyon wall broke loose and crumbled into a massive heap near the base of the canyon, nearly one mile straight down.

The guide said it was estimated that forty-million tons if rock lay at the base of this tremendous canyon because, you see, that little seed didn't know it couldn’t grow there.  And, it just wouldn't give up!  

When you are faced with the trials of life and feel as though you cannot go on, remember the valuable lesson of the tiny juniper seed.  You, like the seed, have every right to grow and to reach the full measure of your creation. No matter how insignificant you think you are, the truth is, you are a literal child of God and He has given you the power and strength to become great and magnificent.  Through blessings, the Lord will magnify your capacity to reach the full measure of your potential.  Linda Sumner Urza: onefineday11.blogspot.com 

WHEN LOVE BLOOMS

"The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them." Thomas Merton: No Man is an Island

The way to change the world around you is to use your energy to develop a Christlike spirit within yourself.  Others will feel the light and inspiration and want to follow your example. Linda Sumner Urza: onefineday11.blogspot.com

THE HAIRCUT

A teenage boy had just passed his driving test and inquired of his father when they could discuss his use of the car.  His father said he’d make a deal with him. 

The father proposed, “You bring your grades up from a C to a B average, study the scriptures and get your hair trimmed, then we’ll talk about the car.”  

The boy thought about it for a moment and decided he’d settle for the offer.  He agreed on the deal.  After about six weeks his father said, “Son, you’ve brought your grades up and I’ve observed that you have been studying the scriptures, but I am disappointed that you haven’t gotten your hair cut. 

The boy replied, “ You know, Dad, I’ve been thinking about that and I’ve noticed in my scripture studies that Samson had long hair, John the Baptist had long hair, Moses had long hair and there’s strong evidence that Jesus had long hair!’ 

The father’s wise and quick reply was steady, “Did you also notice that they all walked everywhere they went?"   Posted on onefineday11.blogspot.com by Linda Sumner Urza