If ever things begin to look a little coudy...they'll get better soon..just remember that it's true; it takes rain to make rainbows;lemons to make lemonade, and sometimes it takes difficulties to make us stronger and better person...the sun will shine again soo...you'll see.....
Recently, in a large city in France, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared inthe window of a gym. It said, "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid ora whale?"
A middle-aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.
To Whom It May Concern, Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans.)
They have an active sex life, get pregnant and have adorable baby whales. They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp.
They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Bering Sea and thecoral reefs of Polynesia . Whales are wonderful singers and have even
recorded CDs. They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans.
They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.
Mermaids don't exist. If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentineanpsychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or human?
They don't have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them, not to mention how could they have sex?
Just look at them ... where is IT? Therefore, they don't have kids either.
Not to mention, who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?
The choice is perfectly clear to me: I want to be a whale.
P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that onlyskinny people are beautiful,but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a manwho makes me shiver,and a piece of chocolate with my friends. With time, we gain weightbecause we accumulate so muchinformation and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room, itdistributes out to the rest of our bodies.
So we aren't heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy.
Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, Good grief, look how smart I am!
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.
... One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.
His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find his lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.
"Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."
People will forget what you said... People will forget what you did... But people will never forget how you made them feel...
A sweet grandmother telephoned St. Joseph ‘s Hospital.She timidly asked, “Is it possible to speak to someone who can tell me how a patient is doing?”
The operator said, “I’ll be glad to help, dear.What’s the name and room number of the patient?”The grandmother in her weak, tremulous voice said, ”Norma Findlay, Room 302.”
The operator replied, “Let me put you on hold while I check with the nurse’s station for that room.” After a few minutes, the operator returned to the phone and said, ”I have good news. Her nurse just told me that Norma is doing well. Her blood pressure is fine; her blood test just came back normal and her physician, Dr. Cohen, has scheduled her to be discharged tomorrow.”
The grandmother said, “Thank you. That’s wonderful. I was so worried.God bless you for the good news.” The operator replied, “You’re more than welcome. Is Norma your daughter?
“The grandmother said, “No, I’m Norma Findlay in Room 302.No one tells me at all”
Moral: We never give our sick ones moral motivation. Most of the patients are more mental than physical patients. Positive statements have a remarkable effect on the patients. So, always give your patients physical treatment as well as mental motivation.
I was very-very busy all these days..& did not even have enough time to relax...
If you are wondering why I am not updating my blog....well, the truth is , I am extremely busy with my office assignments, translations and all...and another thing is that...we infact our DZ family has opened up a "second-hand furniture shop" in Kemaman...ha ha ha....
It's our family business and operated by all the DZ's in the family..we work hand in hand together in handling the whole business... Alhamdulillah, everything goes on fine and we could actually have sales everyday.....so far so good....each of us takes turn to look after the shop....since my 2nd son is now waiting for his degree course which starts only in September, so, he is the one looking after it almost all the time...
I felt so lucky to have my helpful & energetic sons who can really do the mending work, delivering items and also helping into the accounts...hoping so much that this business prolong forever and hopefully one of them can take charge later...looking into the future...
From here, I could foresee that all my boys can work together and help each other in many ways...i'm so glad that they can really work in a bunch...they will be there during the weekends as 2 of them are schooling!!! DZ Berkat Sepakat is our company's name and I thank God for it....So, for those who are in Kemaman & Kuantan..you are all most welcome to our shop based in Geliga Kemaman...It's just 2 doors away from Restoran Dinnee 2 in Geliga....anyway, the signboard is not on display yet but it's in the process...
If this is your 1st time here, you are most welcome to my blog..Please feel free to view my previous pages... This post is meant to keep all of u up to date with what is happening around...I will pop by from time to time & I will be back blogging as soon as I can....
Keistimewaan yang bakal diperoleh apabila anak-anak anda boleh digelar kanak-kanak atau kupu-kupu syurga. Barangsiapa yang menggembirakan anak -anaknya, darjatnya seumpama orang yang sentiasa menangis kerana takutkan Allah. Orang yang menangis takutkan Allah diharamkan oleh Allah akan api neraka ke atas tubuhnya.
Ciumlah anakmu kerana pahala setiap ciuman itu dibalas dengan satu darjat syurga. Nisbah di antara dua darjat ialah 500 darjat. Syurga itu ialah sebuah kampung kesenangan, tiada masuk ke dalamnya melainkan orang yang menyukai kanak-kanak.
Barangsiapa keluar ke pekan Muslim dan membeli barang-barang dan kembali ke rumah dengan buah tangan untuk anak-anaknya, nescaya mendapat rahmat daripada Allah dan tidak diseksa di Akhirat kelak.
Muliakan anak-anak dengan mengajar mereka adab dan ilmu agama. Barangsiapa memuliakan anak-anaknya dalam keadaan jahil dia turut menanggung tiap-tiap dosa yang dilakukan oleh anaknya itu dan barangsiapa membekalkan anaknya itu turut diperolehinya.
Aqrak pernah terlihat Nabi SAW mencium cucu baginda Hassan. Aqrak berkata; "Anakku sepuluh orang banyaknya, namun tiada seorang pun yang pernah aku cium." Sabda Nabi SAW; "Orang yang tidak menyayangi tidak pula akan disayangi."
Barangsiapa ke pasar dan membeli sesuatu barang untuk ahli keluarganya dan dia memikulnya ke rumah; pahalanya seperti dia memikul sedekah untuk orang yang sangat berhajat. Hendaklah mendahulukan anak perempuan daripada anak lelaki. Maka barangsiapa menyukakan anak perempuan seolah-olah dia memerdekakan anak Nabi Ismail.
Seorang lelaki bertanya; "Ya Rasulullah, kepada siapakah harus aku berbakti?"
Jawab baginda; "Berbaktilah kepada ibu bapamu."
Kata lelaki itu lagi; "Ibu bapaku sudah tiada lagi."
Sabda Nabi SAW; "Kalau begitu berbaktilah kepada anakmu, ibubapa berhak terhadap dirimu dan anakmu pula berhak ke atas dirimu."
Sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up their babies’s nose, babies’mouth, soothing them with d cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."
Who have walked around the house all night with their babies when they kept crying and wouldn't stop.
This is for all the mothers who have shown up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse, being sleepy at work..
For all the mothers who have run carpools and made dozens of cookies for school teas and sewn school costumes. And all the mothers who HAVEN'T because they're at work trying to keep on top of the bills.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes and all their love.
This is for all the mothers who have frozen their buns off on metal bleachers at hockey, baseball or soccer games any night of the week instead of watching from their cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and meant it.
This is for all the mothers who have yelled at their kids in the grocery store and swatted them in despair when they stomped their feet like a tired 2-year old does, who wants ice cream before dinner, and then hated them- selves for "losing" it.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn't.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again. "Just one more time."
This is for a ll the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who taught their sons to cook and sew and their daughters to be brave and strong (and sink a jump shot.)
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up right away. And they do.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, and who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips sometimes until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it the heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
Or the terror in your heart at 1 AM when your teenager with the new driver's license is an hour late getting home.
The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? Or to feel the dull ache as you look in on your sleeping daughter or son the night before they leave for a college in another city.
The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
For all the mothers of the victims of all the school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for mothers who have tearfully placed flowers and teddy bears on their children's graves. Whose children have died from illness, accidents and the worst of all and hardest to comprehend, suicides.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers who have learned and are still learning, to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Grandmothers whose wisdom and love remains a constant for their grown children and their children's children. For Mothers with money, and Mothers without.
