there are so many things left unsaid. sometimes couldn't find the courage. sometimes couldn't find the words. sometimes self-esteem gets in the way. and sometimes the brain is busy, or the heart is heavy... and needs to let off some steam. ha!
Dear Readers,
Salam & Good day to all... I hope you'll have fun reading and probably collect something useful here. I welcome all comments & commends. Be kind and please don't be anonymous. I'd like to know my visitors :)
"La Tahzan, InnaAllaha ma'ana" (Al- Quran: Surah At- Taubah- Verse 40)
Translation: "Be not sad (or afraid), surely Allah is with us."
"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." ~Edmund Burke~
In a world where you can be anything, be kind.
"La Tahzan, InnaAllaha ma'ana" (Al- Quran: Surah At- Taubah- Verse 40)
Translation: "Be not sad (or afraid), surely Allah is with us."
"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." ~Edmund Burke~
In a world where you can be anything, be kind.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Sister Hazel - Change Your Mind
Hey, Hey
Did you ever think
There might be another way
To just feel better,
Just feel better about today
Oh no
If you never want to have
To turn and go away
You might feel better,
Might feel better if you stay
Bridge
Yeah yeah
I bet you haven't heard
A word I've said
Yeah yeah
If you've had enough
Of all your tryin'
Just give up
The state of mind you're in…
Chorus
If you want to be somebody else,
If you're tired of fighting battles with yourself
If you want to be somebody else
Change your mind...
Hey hey
Have you ever danced in the rain
Or thanked the sun
Just for shining- just for shining
Or the sea?
Oh no- take it all in
The world's a show
And yeah, you look much better,
Look much better when you glow
Bridge & Chorus
Hey hey
what ya say
We both go and seize the day
'cause what's your hurry
what's your hurry anyway
Bridge & Chorus
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Give More = Get More
Lunch hour today, while waiting for my friend, I stopped by an Islamic book booth. Browsing through the colorful rows of books, all with interesting titles, one particular book caught my attention. I don’t remember the title now, but it was about how to ease your financial burden and reduce your debts. It was written by Ustazah Siti Nor Bahyah with two of her friends.
I started to flip the pages and the first opened page was about how the devils always scare us of giving and donating and always whisper to our ears and hearts that we will become poor by these actions.
It struck to me... 'that’s why I always feel my money is not enough even though I’m earning more than I used to’.
I believe that this is a fact... you will not have any problem in your cash flow if you are always generous.
I’ve seen evidence of this by the actions of my parents. They are not rich people and their earnings are just enough to cover their needs and their family. But, this doesn’t stop them from helping others, particularly financially. My father is worse. If someone asked to borrow some money, all he heard was ‘I need help’. He didn’t think whether that person still owe him some money from before or whether the person will pay him back.
A lot of times, ungrateful human beings take advantage of kind people.
The most remarkable thing is, even though my parents always help others and never stingy in donations, their money is always enough. They never have to borrow from anyone if they think they won’t be able to pay them back. Car and housing loans excluded.
I keep on wondering about this and how this is even possible?
My mother’s answer was simple… what you give, you’ll get back… and more…
I’m not trying to brag about my parents. This is more as a reminder for myself. I have been tight with my donations budget and therefore… my cash flow situation is not so good.
So, let’s be generous and always be kind. To our parents especially.
Remember… what you give, you’ll get back… and more…
And of course, you have to evaluate how sincere you are in your actions.
Have a great life y'all!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Clay Aiken - On My Way Here
I took my first step
On that black and white kitchen floor
I sometimes wonder if that house
Is even there, anymore
I had my first glimpse of love
When I was five
I watched two people split apart
But still the three of us survived
I've seen the best
I've seen the worst
I wouldn't change what I've been through
I've touched the sky
I've hit the wall
But I did what I had to
Ooooohhhh
On my way here
Where I am now
I've learned to fly
I have to want to leave the ground
I've fallen hard
But I've been loved
And in the end it all works out
My faith has conquered fear
On my way here.
Oh yeah yeaaah
My address has changed
Almost every year
I've found that standing still
Can quickly make a lifetime disappear
I'd rather try and fail
A thousand times denied
And this, whenever you feel pain
It lets you know that you're alive
I've been a fool
I've been afraid
Yeah, I've been loved
I've been lied to
I've been wrong
And I've been right
I stood up when I had to
Yeah Yeahhhh
On my way here
Where I am now
I've learned to fly
I have to want to leave the ground
I've fallen hard
But I've been loved
And in the end it all works out
My faith has conquered fear
On my way here.
No guarantees
I believed that I would find
An open door or a light
To lead me to the other side
I guess that is why
On my way here
Where I am now
I've learned to fly
I have to want to leave the ground
I've fallen hard
But I've been loved
And in the end it all works out
My faith has conquered fear
On my way here
Monday, October 13, 2008
The Old Phone
An email I got from a friend on a random act of kindness.
You never know how your action will impact others, so be kind always :)
******************************************************************
When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.
I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."
"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience."Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Wayne always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."
"Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.
Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please." Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
"Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?" There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now." I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
'I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" she said. "Yes, a very old friend," I answered. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said."Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?"
"Yes." I answered."Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean." I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
Whose life have you touched today?
Why not pass this on? I just did....
Lifting you on eagle's wings. May you find the joy and peace you long for.
Life is a journey .. NOT a guided tour.
******************************************************************
Source: ~Anonymous~
You never know how your action will impact others, so be kind always :)
******************************************************************
When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.
I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."
"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience."Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Wayne always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."
"Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.
Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please." Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
"Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?" There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now." I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
'I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" she said. "Yes, a very old friend," I answered. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said."Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?"
"Yes." I answered."Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean." I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
Whose life have you touched today?
Why not pass this on? I just did....
Lifting you on eagle's wings. May you find the joy and peace you long for.
Life is a journey .. NOT a guided tour.
******************************************************************
Source: ~Anonymous~
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