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((Welcome everyone)) to our Sunday Inspirationals. Most of these were sent in by some of you TO the rest of you:) If you have something to add, or a request...send it along, we print them all, within reason...this *news-letter is for you! Thank you all...Patsy xoxoxo This is the place. We have a *freethings*, interesting finds, *contests, beauty, crafts & recipes *news-letter* Mon.- Sat. & have added this Inspirational one for Sundays only... For our NEW PEOPLE; you have arrived at Pakadevas from our *site, or others we advertise with, *news-, -search -engines etc. Enjoy your stay:) http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com Daily-news http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/news.html *Leaving us *instructions are at the bottom of any ...news... Please go see your Prayer Requests for today: http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/PrayerRequests.html ~To see Pakadevas Archives: http://www.archives.ezinester.com/97178 What?!! Not a member of PakadevasFreebees yet? Join Here:) http://www.ezinester.com/mpb/ml_fs.cgi?topic=97178 Beautiful notes from you:) It's just me this time, to say thank you to all the wonderful people who send me thoughts, links, ideas & praise for our Sunday news. Without you, it would be much more difficult to put it together. God Bless everyone on our list, with much joy & happiness on this Sabbath Day:) Love Patsy * * Please ~Vote...we (you & me) can be #1:) http://www.top50.to/inclick.php?ID=20600 aol link (\o/) "Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved." -Helen Keller (\o/) (\o/) EIGHT SPECIAL GIFTS Shared by Treva, Knoxville, TN 1) THE GIFT OF LISTENING... But you must REALLY listen. No interrupting, no daydreaming, no planning your response. Just listening. 2) THE GIFT OF AFFECTION... Be generous with appropriate hugs, kisses, pats on the back and handholds. Let these small actions demonstrate the love you have for family and friends. 3) THE GIFT OF LAUGHTER... Clip cartoons. Share articles and funny stories. Your gift will say, "I love to laugh with you." 4) THE GIFT OF A WRITTEN NOTE... It can be a simple "Thanks for the help" note or a full sonnet. A brief, handwritten note may be remembered for a lifetime, and may even change a life. 5) THE GIFT OF A COMPLIMENT... A simple and sincere, "You look great in red," "You did a super job" or "That was a wonderful meal" can make someone's day. 6) THE GIFT OF A FAVOR... Every day, go out of your way to do something kind. 7) THE GIFT OF SOLITUDE... There are times when we want nothing better than to be left alone. Be sensitive to those times and give the gift of solitude to others. 8) THE GIFT OF A CHEERFUL DISPOSITION... The easiest way to feel good is to extend a kind word to someone, really it's not that hard to say, "Hello" or "Thank you." Thank you John:) (\o/) (\o/) May your troubles be less, your blessings more, and nothing but happiness come through your door. (\o/) (\o/) Answered Prayers ?Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!? My father yelled at me. ?Can?t you do anything right?? Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn?t prepared for another battle. ?I saw the car, Dad. Please don?t yell at me when I?m driving.? My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him? Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn?t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn?t do something he had done as a younger man. Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor?s orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone. My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad?s troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. A raindrop struck my cheek. I looked up into the gray sky. Somewhere up there was ?God.? Although I believe a Supreme Being had created the universe, I had difficulty believing that God cared about the tiny human being on this earth. I was tired of waiting for a God who didn?t answer. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, ?I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.? I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs?all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons?too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world?s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. ?Can you tell me about him?? The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. ?He?s a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we?ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.? He gestured helplessly. As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. ?You mean you?re going to kill him?? ?Ma?am,? he said gently, ?that?s our policy. We don?t have room for every unclaimed dog.? I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. ?I?ll take him,? I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. ?Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!? I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. ?If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don?t want it? Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. ?You?d better get used to him, Dad. He?s staying!? Dad ignored me. ?Did you hear me, Dad?? I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad?s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad?s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne?s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father?s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad?s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad?s peace of mind. The morning of Dad?s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. ?Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.? I?ve often thanked God for sending that angel,? he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne?s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter, his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father . . . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Thank you Elaine & Arnie:) (\o/) (\o/) One day at a time... http://www.frontiernet.net/~jimdandy/specials/onedayatatime/onedayatatime.htm Thank you Renie:) (\o/) (\o/) Words of Wisdom (1) God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts. (2) Dear God, I have a problem, it's me. (3) Growing old is inevitable, growing UP is optional. (4) There is no key to happiness. The door is always open. (5) Silence is often misinterpreted, but never misquoted. (6) Do the math....count your blessings. (7) Faith is the ability to not panic. (8) Laugh every day, it's like inner jogging. (9) If you worry, you didn't pray. If you pray, don't worry. (10) As a child of God, prayer is kind of like calling home everyday. (11) Blessed are the flexible for they shall not be bent out of shape. (12) The most important things in your home are the people. (13) When we get tangled up in our problems, be still. God wants us to be still so He can untangle the knot. (14) A grudge is a heavy thing to carry. (15) He who dies with the most toys is still dead. (16) We do not remember days, but moments. Life is moving too fast - so enjoy your precious moments. (18) Nothing is real to you until you experience it, otherwise it's just hearsay. (19) It's all right to sit on your pity pot every now and again. Just be sure to flush when you are done. (20) Surviving and living your life successfully requires courage. The goals and dreams you're seeking require courage and risk taking. Learn from the turtle, it only makes progress when it sticks out its neck. (21) Life is uncertain; eat desert first. (22) Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are." Yesterday is history Tomorrow is mystery Today is a gift That is why they call it the present. Thank you Carla:) (\o/) (\o/) To all of you from me:) Be nice, nice is good:) We don't always take the time to be nice...let's make a point of saying or doing, something nice for someone, every day...even if it is as little as a smile, to brighten anothers day:) Take care of yourselves and your loved ones! Patsy quoting Rob Love & hugs to all from Patsy & Kay xoxoxo Remembering Rob 1-10 http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/RememberingRob.html RememberingRob10 (still in progress) http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/RememberingRob10.html (\o/) Please take a moment & vote for Pakadevas:) http://www.top50.to/inclick.php?ID=20600 Have a blessed day! Patsy *S* ---Important-Disclaimer at the bottom of this page--- Please Read. http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com This e-news-letter uses third party *ads & *links & *swaps with other -web-sites, if you no longer wish to stay with us, please follow to the end of this issue & -un-sub-scribe, otherwise, we take it as your agreement to receive such articles in our news. Thank you for your co-operation in this matter. Our mailing address for new mailing rules under the new act. Please only use this for friendly mail:) Thank you...Patsy *S* Patsy Rideout Pakadevas-Freebees PO Box 448, Thessalon Ontario, Canada P0R1L0 *Con`tact Patsy: rpkdv@nf.aibn.com If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it. ( \ / ) ( \()/ ) ( / \ ) TAKE THIS LITTLE ANGEL ( / \/ \ ) AND KEEP HER CLOSE TO YOU / \ SHE IS YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL ( ) SENT TO WATCH OVER YOU ____ Thank you Jane K:) ?//// \\\\, ___________ *?? o?`* /__/ _/\_ ____/\ ```)?(??? | | | | | | | || |l????| ?,.-*?? ?,.-*~*~*-.,? `?*-. :?? *~*~*-..,? "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." We'd love to see you stay, but, should you want to go, go here: |
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August24, 2007 - [Pakadevas~Barbecue Day] >> |
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