Puppies for sale

A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the pups and set about Nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he Felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the Eyes of a little boy.
Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies."
"Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "these puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money."
The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. "I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?"
"Sure," said the farmer.
And with that he let out a whistle,"Here,Dolly!" he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight.
As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly another little ball appeared; this One noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up....
"I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt.
The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would."
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself To a specially made shoe. Looking back up at the farmer, he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need Someone who understands."

The world is full of people who need someone who understands.

Collected

An Ageless Heart

The cruise ship was crowded with people off for three days of pleasure. Ahead of me in the passageway walked a tiny woman in brown slacks, her shoulders hunched, her white hair cut in a bob.
From the ship's intercom came a familiar tune - "Begin the Beguine." And suddenly, a wonderful thing happened. The woman, unaware anyone was behind her, did a quick and graceful dance step - back, shuffle, slide.
As she reached the door to the dining salon, she re-assembled her dignity, and stepped soberly through.
Younger people often think folks my age are beyond romance, dancing or dreams. They see us as age has shaped us; camouflaged by wrinkles, thick waists and gray hair. They don't see the people who live inside.
No one would ever know that I am still the skinny girl who grew up in a leafy suburb of Boston.
Inside, I still think of myself as the youngest child in a happy family headed by a mother of great beauty and a father of unfailing good cheer.
And I am still the romantic teenager who longed for love, the young adult who aspired to social respectability - but whom shall I tell?
We are all like the woman in the ship's passageway, in whom the music still echoes. We are the sum of all the lives we once lived. We show the grown-up part, but inside we are still the laughing children, the shy teens, the dream-filled youths. There still exists, most real, the matrix of all we were or ever yearned to be.
In our hearts we still hear "Begin the Beguine" - and when we are alone, we dance.
- Beth Ashley
How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant of the weak and the strong. Because someday in life, you will have been all of these.
- George Washington Carver

The Old Scholar

When plum blossom comes every year
The old scholar will then appear
On crowded roads, he’s displaying
Large red paper and Chinese ink
So numerous are the compliments
From customers for his talents
“Lively strokes, vigorous motions:
Dancing phoenix, soaring dragons!”
As years have passed, there’s less demand
Where are they all, his all clients?
Distressed paper has faded colour
Ink stone dried out from feeling sore
The old scholar’s always on site
Thus, unnoticed by passers-by
Dead leaves have lounged onto paper
Then comes the mist drizzling over
As plum blossom has come so far
No longer seen the old scholar
Oh souls of passed millennia!
Where have you gone throughout eras?

Tien Lac Quan