Having been born “BI” (before internet), I see people frantically texting away and sometimes wonder how they would have survived “back in the day,” when “texting” involved a 30-pound typewriter, messy correction fluid or an eraser, a trip to the post office, standing in line to buy a stamp, waiting a week or two for the letter to get to its destination, and waiting another week or two for a reply.
Why is everyone so darn busy? Today even my auto rickshaw driver was multitasking, negotiating a business deal on his mobile phone while navigating city traffic. Was he even old enough to remember when making a phone call in public meant hunting down a phone booth, having the right change, and feeding more coins into the phone if the call went longer than three minutes? What I want to know is where does all the time go that we save by not having to go through all that? Shouldn’t we be swimming in leisure time, thanks to all of our time-saving modern marvels? Is it simply a matter of poor time management? Good advice abounds: Prioritize. Delegate. Do difficult tasks first. Clear your life of clutter. Learn to say no. … But there is more to it than that. Sometimes it’s not a question of what we are doing, but of what we are becoming. As the Indian sage Rabindranath Tagore put it, “He who is too busy doing good finds no time to be good.” How can we slow things down a bit and enjoy life more, while still doing everything that really needs to get done? The other day I was leaving for a meeting when my granddaughter grabbed my hand and asked excitedly, “Can I show you the new steps I learned in dance class?” Before I could blurt out, “Sorry, I’m too busy. Show me another time,” my mind fast-forwarded five years and I heard her say as she rushed out the door, “Sorry, Gramps! I’m too busy being a teen.” “Sure,” I said. “Show me your moves.” Five minutes of vigorous dancing and continuous applause later, I left for my meeting feeling less stressed and more optimistic. I had found my answer. If we take time to stop and smell the flowers, their scent will linger with us throughout the day, reminding us that there’s more to life than rushing to the next thing. - Curtis Peter van Gorder, courtesy of Activated magazine. *** According to a report in The Express newspaper of Easton, Pennsylvania, studies done by the consulting firm Priority Management show that “the average married couple spends four minutes a day in meaningful conversation, and the working couple spends 30 seconds a day talking with their children.” Says the firm’s president, Michael Fortino: “Most people say their families are important, but they don’t live that way.”
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Children are to respect and obey their parents.
Pray for God’s guidance and help in raising your children.
Treat children gently and in love.
Patience, mercy, and reasoning are the most effective.
Parents are responsible to both teach and set a good example for their children.
Parents are responsible to correct their children when necessary.
Godly parenting will guide children all through life.
Based on an article from Activated magazine. Image courtesy of photostock/freedigitalimages.net Taken from Mr. Washington, by Les Brown
One day in 11th grade, I went into a classroom to wait for a friend of mine. When I went into the room, the teacher, Mr. Washington, suddenly appeared and asked me to go to the board to write something, to work something out. I told him that I couldn’t do it. And he said, Why not? I said, Because I’m not one of your students. He said, It doesn’t matter. Go to the board anyhow. I said, I can’t do that. He said, Why not? And I paused because I was somewhat embarrassed. I said, Because I’m Educable Mentally Retarded. He came from behind his desk and he looked at me and he said, Don’t ever say that again. Someone’s opinion of you does not have to become your reality. It was a very liberating moment for me. On one hand, I was humiliated because the other students laughed at me. They knew that I was in Special Education. But on the other hand, I was liberated because he began to bring to my attention that I did not have to live within the context of what another person’s view of me was. And so Mr. Washington became my mentor. Prior to this experience, I had failed twice in school. I was identified as Educable Mentally Retarded in the fifth grade, was put back from the fifth grade into the fourth grade, and failed again when I was in the eighth grade. So this person, Mr. Washington, made a dramatic difference in my life. I always say that he operates in the consciousness of Goethe, who said, Look at a man the way that he is, and he only becomes worse. But look at him as if he were what he could be, and then he becomes what he should be. Mr. Washington believed that Nobody rises to low expectations. This man always gave students the feeling that he had high expectations for them and we strove--all of the students strove—to live up to what those expectations were. One day, when I was still a junior, I heard him giving a speech to some graduating seniors. He said to them, You have greatness within you. You have something special. If just one of you can get a glimpse of a larger vision of yourself, of who you really are, of what it is you bring to the planet, of your special- ness, then in a historical context, the world will never be the same again. You can make your parents proud. You can make your school proud. You can make your community proud. You can touch millions of people’s lives. He was talking to the seniors, but it seemed like that speech was for me. I remember when they gave him a standing ovation. Afterwards, I caught up to him in the parking lot and I said, Mr. Washington, do you remember me? I was in the auditorium when you were talking to the seniors. He said, What were you doing there? You are a junior. I said, I know. But that speech you were giving, I heard your voice coming through the auditorium doors. That speech was for me, sir. You said they had greatness within them. I was in that auditorium. Is there greatness within me, sir? He said, Yes, Mr. Brown. But what about the fact that I failed English and math and history, and I’m going to have to go to summer school? What about that, sir? I’m slower than most kids. I’m not as smart as my brother or my sister who’s going to the University of Miami. It doesn’t matter. It just means that you have to work harder. Your grades don’t determine who you are or what you can produce in your life. I want to buy my mother a home. It’s possible, Mr. Brown. You can do that. And he turned to walk away again. Mr. Washington? What do you want now? Uh, I’m the one, sir. You remember me—remember my name. One day you’re gonna hear it. I’m gonna make you proud. I’m the one, sir. School was a real struggle for me. I was passed from one grade to another because I was not a bad kid. I was a nice kid; I was a fun kid. I made people laugh. I was polite. I was respectful. So teachers would pass me on, which was not helpful to me. But Mr. Washington made demands on me. He made me accountable. But he enabled me to believe that I could handle it, that I could do it. He became my instructor my senior year, even though I was Special Education. Normally, Special Ed students don’t take Speech and Drama, but they made special provisions for me to be with him. The principal realized the kind of bonding that had taken place and the impact that he’d made on me, because I had begun to do well academically. For the first time in my life I made the honor roll. I wanted to travel on a trip with the drama department and you had to be on the honor roll in order to make the trip out of town. That was a miracle for me! Mr. Washington restructured my own picture of who I am. He gave me a larger vision of myself, beyond my mental conditioning and my circumstances. Years later, I produced five specials that appeared on public television. I had some friends call him when my program, You Deserve, was on the educational television channel in Miami. I was sitting by the phone waiting when he called me in Detroit. He said, May I speak to Mr. Brown, please? Who’s calling? You know who’s calling. Oh, Mr. Washington, it’s you. You were the one, weren’t you? Yes, sir, I was. As children enter their preteen years (9- to 11-year-olds) most experience an increased desire to belong to a group, club, or a social network of some kind. Your child may be interested in communicating via chat, e-mail, or some other form of online communication with his or her peers. When and how much you allow your preteen to use the Internet as a means of communication is entirely up to you as parents.
Identifying the risks Many teens do not appear to fully comprehend the public nature of material posted on social networking sites. Even material shared “privately” with one or selected others can easily be made public by the recipient. This lack of sensitivity to the potentially damaging nature of such disclosures is extremely evident on social networking sites, where some teens are posting personal contact information, intimate information, and material that is highly damaging to their reputations and current and future opportunities. The biggest message that must be imparted to children and teens with respect to privacy and the Internet is this: it’s not private! Anything and everything that is put into electronic form and sent or posted online is public, or could easily be made public. Think before you post. In the real world, when you share information with your friends, it is primarily just between the people present at the time. In general, the distance that offline information travels is limited, as are the ways in which it can be documented. In the online world your private information and actions can be documented and made public, often by you. In a sense, everyone who participates in public social networks is suddenly a public figure. You should consider all the implications that status carries. Safeguarding strategies * Help your child set up his or her profile and account settings so that they are acceptable and as safe as possible. * Let your child know that you will monitor his or her social networking site or blog, and make it clear to him or her what is acceptable and what will not be allowed. * Help your child understand the public nature of the Internet. Teach your child to be careful of what he or she divulges through text and photos. Things that he or she wouldn’t feel safe saying to someone you have just met on the street should be considered inappropriate to share online. * Keep an eye on who your child is connecting with online and how much information is being shared by your child, or by comments his or her friends make. * Teach your child that the surveys and questionnaires abounding on social networking sites are consumer information techniques that companies use in order to find out what kind of products you’re likely to buy, which then helps them formulate advertising strategies. Maria Fontaine Motherhood may have its ups and downs, but when we stop to focus on what is truly great, truly important, truly wonderful in this world, one thing that most people will always have at or near the top of their list is the wonder of mothers. How do mothers do it? What is the secret of that seemingly boundless patience, endurance, and love that seems to keep reviving again and again in spite of anything that life throws at it? Here are some of my thoughts about mothers—things that mothers do, or are, that make them so special.
and sorrow of those in your care. It costs in battling their fears on top of your own and worrying as your children fall again and again. It costs in trying to muster a little more strength when yours is gone, yet more is needed to lift those who are looking to you for strength. It costs when hope seems gone, yet you know that you cannot let go for their sakes, and you hope against hope until you see them back on their feet.
It is far beyond defining, It defies all explanation; And it still remains a secret Like the mysteries of creation. A many-splendored miracle Man cannot understand, And another wondrous evidence Of God’s tender guiding hand.
b. Balancing moral standards with compassion and mercy that teaches them forgiveness and tolerance, coupled with a conviction for what is true and right. c. Prayer, faith, and trust as an integral part of our relationship with our children. d. The example of trust and faith that we show in how we react to the heartaches that come into our life and into the lives of others. e. The resilience we show when we make mistakes or fail, and the seeking of ways to grow from the experience, so that our children, when they make mistakes, can discover the purpose of them without condemnation. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you feed a stray cat,
and I wanted to be kind to animals. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite cake for me, and I knew that little things are special things. When you thought I wasn't looking, I heard you pour your heart out to Jesus, and I knew there is a God I could always talk to. When you thought I wasn't looking, I felt you kiss me goodnight, and I felt loved. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw the tears you shed, and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but it's all right to cry. When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared and I wanted to be everything that I could be. When you thought I wasn’t looking, I saw you react graciously to the difficulties in life, and I saw that I could do the same and still have joy. When you thought I wasn’t looking, I saw you forgive over and over again, and I learned the value of forgiveness. When you thought I wasn’t looking, I heard you praying for me, and I learned how to do it too. When you thought I wasn’t looking, I saw you sacrificing to give to others, and I learned that you truly gain from giving. When you thought I wasn’t looking, I saw you healing hurts and calming fears, and now I know how to do it with others. When you thought I wasn’t looking, I learned so many lessons about how to love and give, and these now bring blessings to me every day. When you thought I didn’t notice, I saw all the many times you loved and sacrificed, and I realized that you are the proof that God exists. When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked … and wanted to say thanks for all the things I saw, When you thought I wasn't looking. By E.S. Almost anyone’s list of “People Who Have Influenced My Life” includes at least one teacher. What kind of teachers are these?-The kind who use their talents to help develop others’ talents; the kind who strive to shape not just the mind but the heart. For me, it was a teacher we students came to affectionately call Auntie Marina. Auntie Marina was level-headed and stricter than most of our other teachers and caretakers, firm in her sense of right and wrong, and at first we kids grumbled about that. Before long, however, we learned to trust her because we sensed that she cared about what kind of people we would become. We felt secure with Auntie Marina because she clearly defined our boundaries. While Auntie Marina set limits and enforced the rules, she demonstrated equal amounts of positiveness and love, and she also had an appropriate sense of fun. School with her wasn’t limited to worksheets and textbooks. She took us on excursions and trips to the park, and shared her artistic talent in order to get us interested in arts and crafts. She also had a knack for making each of us feel special, and one way she did this was by speaking positively about us to others when we were within earshot. I can still recall the pride I felt upon overhearing her tell another teacher how well I was doing in spelling. It was satisfying to know that my efforts had not gone unnoticed. Auntie Marina’s care and love extended beyond the school years. For quite some time after our family moved to Taiwan, she sent me notes and cards. Ten years later, I still have several of them. When I reread one of those notes recently, I marveled at the concern and interest she had shown in corresponding with an eight-year-old: “Yesterday I came across your picture as I was preparing a photo album of ‘the children in my life’-those I’ve cared for and taught over the years-and I was reminded of how much I love you, my dear young friend.” On my ninth birthday she wrote: “A very happy birthday to you. I pray that it will be a wonderful, special day for you, and a great new year of your life, full of good surprises and love-filled experiences. I’m happy to know you!” On June 9, 2005, after a prolonged struggle with cancer, Auntie Marina passed away. I know I am only one of many who are better for having experienced her love, which she always reminded us was God’s love poured through her. Courtesy of Activated magazine. By Jessica Roberts It’s the end of a long day of caring for sick children. No, not my own. They belong to a couple whose job often calls them away to tend to others’ needs at the sacrifice of some of their time together as a family. I am the children’s teacher, and I usually enjoy being a substitute parent, but not this week. “I’m feeling overtired, run down, and stressed,” I grumble. “I’m way behind on the dishes and laundry, and I’m missing a beach trip with my friends to instead take care of a bunch of coughing, sniffling, whiny kids. The kids are having their midday nap, and my day still stretches before me. I haven’t had enough sleep or fresh air for days now. I’m not meant do this. I’m not their mother. Mothers have the patience, the selflessness, the unconditional love for their children to put up with all this! Not me. These kids are driving me crazy!” A creak on the stairs tells me somebody’s awake. It’s two-year-old Susy. “What do you need, Susana?” She pauses for half a second, then runs to me, throws her little arms around my neck, and whispers, “I love you!” Then she turns and runs back to bed. I hear four-year-old Martin stirring, so I go to check on him. He opens one eye and mumbles sleepily, “You’re the bestest teacher ever!” Something about the way he smiles when he says that… I think about their pure-hearted love and how they’ve adopted me. I remember all the laughs, the hugs, the discoveries we’ve shared. Suddenly I’m not so tired anymore. I remember what Jesus said about loving the little people, “Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me” (Matthew 25:40). We’re going to have our best day yet! I’m sure there is a way to build a three-ring circus in the sick room. And when they reach that tired, grumpy hour before dinner, I’ll just shoot up a prayer and ask for some of the Lord’s unconditional love. And I’ll thank God for the blessing of having these kids to care for. © The Family International
By Tomoko Matsuoka I wouldn’t have used this color in the wildest color scheme-a garish yellow that takes on a greenish tint when the light strikes it just right. But here it is, in sharp contrast to the muted red cover of my diary, a child’s shiny yellow rose sticker. Of all of the gifts I have ever received, I have treasured this one more than most. Thinking back, I can’t remember what my little sister had said that had gotten me in such a tizzy. All I remember is that she had been complaining, and I had lectured her severely. I hadn’t gone so far as enumerating every woe that the least fortunate child in the world might be experiencing at that very moment, but I had come close. After demanding an apology, I turned back to my book. A few quiet moments had passed when I heard rustling. I refused to look up. I wanted my little sister to feel the full effect of my righteous exasperation. Let her stew, I thought. The rustling continued. I willed myself to stay put, but I couldn’t help wondering what was absorbing her so completely. Another few moments passed, and then the patter of footsteps came up behind me. They stopped. Silence. I refused to look up from my book, but from the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of her hand pushing an envelope onto the desk next to me. She turned and ran from the room. Curious, I flipped open the envelope. Something impossibly yellow tumbled onto my lap. It was a rose sticker. I flipped it over, and there in a five-year-old’s handwriting were the words, “I’m sorry. I love you.” In a preschooler’s barter economy, stickers are precious. And this was no ordinary sticker. Considering that to a child’s way of thinking, bigger is better, the brighter the better, and shiny is best of all, this big shiny rose sticker that had fallen into my lap had undoubtedly been the prize of her collection. I sat stunned for a moment at her boundless ability to love me despite my ornery self-centeredness. I found her, hugged her, and told her I was sorry. © The Family International. By Jane Lampman, The Christian Science Monitor, Januray 28, 1999 Little Earl and his mom and dad were having a terrible time. Diagnosed as hyperactive and defiant at school and at home, the redheaded seven-year-old with a sprinkle of freckles couldn’t seem to control his anger. One tumultuous week it got so bad he was hospitalized for the weekend. Six months later, Earl was much happier: He had found a new way to deal with his feelings, his parents’ relationship with each other had improved, and he no longer needed the Ritalin or Prozac he was being given for hyperactivity. He began to do well in school. Both he and his parents had found a third way to deal with their anger. Rather than denying or venting it, they had learned how to forgive. And their answer is one that is being explored much more widely today. Forgiveness has remarkable healing power in the lives of those who utilize it, says Richard Fitzgibbons, the Philadelphia psychiatrist who worked with Earl and is one of the pioneers in introducing forgiveness into the mental health field. Forgiveness is a hot topic now in many areas, from academic research to marital and family counseling to politics and community life. “Forgiveness is now being rediscovered as a creative human faculty for overcoming estrangement, says Lewis Smedes, professor emeritus of theology and ethics at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, Calif., in Dimensions of Forgiveness(Templeton Foundation Press, 1998). Forgiveness is more than a moral imperative, more than a theological dictum. It is the only means, given our humanness and imperfections, to overcome hate and condemnation and proceed with the business of growing and loving, says Paul Coleman, a psychologist in Wappinger Falls, N.Y. Forgiveness has a spiritual component, Dr. Coleman says, a grace from God, if you will, and spirituality has only become a little more accepted in the mental health field in the last decade. Dr. Worthington, author of To Forgive Is Human, says the key ingredient is empathy. The degree to which a person can empathize is related strongly to the degree they can forgive. Given what is happening in the world, he adds, forgiveness has the potential to be enormously influential in the 21st century. Research will also soon show, he says, that it will be very healthy not just to forgive an event or a person but to have a forgiving character. Forgiveness: Free Stories and Videos for Children Stories:
Videos: Image courtesy of David Castillo Dominici/FreeDigitalPhotos.net
By Akio Matsuoka “I’ve been so busy with life that I haven’t had time to think,” a terminally ill woman in her forties told me when I visited her at a hospice. “I realized while lying here that I barely know my husband, my children, or my mother-in-law, who also lives with us. I’ve been wrapped up in caring for them—shopping and cooking, doing their laundry, cleaning after them, helping them with their homework—and yet I can’t say that I really know what they are thinking or what they are going through. I can’t tell you when was the last time that I had a deep conversation with any of them.” I heard a similar lament recently while attending a seminar. The main lecturer finished and opened the floor for a casual question-and-answer period. An elderly man who was the retired CEO of a large company stood up and spoke to the 100 or so attendees. “I am 70 years old, currently in excellent health, and recently retired with a substantial pension. I was looking forward to finally relaxing and spending time with my family, but yesterday my wife asked for a divorce. I have worked hard my entire life, always for the family that I loved. Where did I go wrong? Why has my life turned out this way?” I often hear people say that they want their loved ones to be happy, and that is why they need to work so long and hard. Unfortunately, the more successful they become, the busier they get and the less time they have to spend with their families—and the less they reap of the rewards they expected from their investment. While the dying woman’s and the retired man’s motives may have seemed noble at the time, the lives they led to hadn’t been able to satisfy the needs of their loved ones’ hearts. The Bible tells us, “Don’t forget to do good and to share with those in need. These are the sacrifices that please God.”1 The original Greek word translated “share” is koinónia, which means “participation,” “communion,” “fellowship.”2 Sacrifice other things to make time to help others, to participate in their lives, to share in their victories and struggles, to have heart-to-heart interaction with them—in short, make time to love. Akio Matsuoka has been a missionary and volunteer worker for the past 35 years, both in his native Japan and abroad. He lives in Tokyo. 1. Hebrews 13:16 NLT 2. Strong’s Concordance Article originally published in Activated magazine. Used with permission.
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