Give Time to Our Family

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, “I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.”
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. 

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “What’s wrong, are you well?” she asked.
My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. “I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,” I responded. “Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.”
That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel’s. “I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed, “she said, as she got into the car. “They can’t wait to hear about our meeting.”

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. “It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. “Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favor,” I responded. During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation – nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other’s life. We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed.
“How was your dinner date?” asked my wife when I got home. “Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered.


A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her. 

Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: “I paid this bill in advance. I wasn’t sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates – one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son.”
At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: “I LOVE YOU” and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till “some other time.”

Live and Work-- Inspiring Touching Story

Father was a hardworking man who delivered bread as a living to support his wife and three children. He spent all his evenings after work attending classes, hoping to improve himself so that he could one day find a better paying job. Except for Sundays, Father hardly ate a meal together with his family.

 He worked and studied very hard because he wanted to provide his family with the best money could buy.
Whenever the family complained that he was not spending enough time with them, he reasoned that he was doing all this for them. 
But he often yearned to spend more time with his family.
The day came when the examination results were announced. 
To his joy, Father passed, and with distinctions too! Soon after, he was offered a good job as a senior supervisor which paid handsomely.
Like a dream come true, Father could now afford to provide his family with life’s little luxuries like nice clothing, fine food and vacation abroad.
However, the family still did not get to see father for most of the week. He continued to work very hard, hoping to be promoted to the position of manager. 
In fact, to make himself a worthily candidate for the promotion, he enrolled for another course in the open university.
Again, whenever the family complained that he was not spending enough time with them, he reasoned that he was doing all this for them. But he often yearned to spend more time with his family.
Father’s hard work paid off and he was promoted. Jubilantly, he decided to hire a maid to relieve his wife from her domestic tasks. He also felt that their three-room flat was no longer big enough, it would be nice for his family to be able to enjoy the facilities and comfort of a condominium. Having experienced the rewards of his hard work many times before, Father resolved to further his studies and work at being promoted again. The family still did not get to see much of him. In fact, sometimes Father had to work on Sundays entertaining clients. Again, whenever the family complained that he was not spending enough time with them, he reasoned that he was doing all this for them. But he often yearned to spend more time with his family.

As expected, Father’s hard work paid off again and he bought a beautiful condominium overlooking the coast of Singapore. On the first Sunday evening at their new home, Father declared to his family that he decided not to take anymore courses or pursue any more promotions. From then on he was going to devote more time to his family.

BUT
Father did not wake up the next day.

The Love of a Brother

I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day after day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs towards the sky.
One day, I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. Father discovered about the stolen money right away.
'Who stole the money?' he asked my brother and me.
I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said, 'Fine, if nobody wants to admit, you both should be punished!' Suddenly, my younger brother gripped Father's hand and said, 'Dad, I was the one who did it!' He took the blame, and punishment, for me.
In the middle of the night, all of sudden, I cried out loudly. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, 'Sis, now don't cry anymore. Everything has happened.' I will never forget my brother's expression when he protected me. That year, my brother was 8 years old and I was 11 years old. I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit what I did. Years went by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday.
When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central part of town. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province.

That night, Father squatted in the yard, smoking packet by packet. I could hear him ask my mother, 'Both of our children, they have good results? Very good results?'
Mother wiped off her tears and sighed, 'What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?'
At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of Father and said, 'Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books.' Father became angry.
'Why do you have a spirit so weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your studies!' And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money.
I stuck out my hand as gently as I could to my brother's face, and told him, 'A boy has to continue his study. If not, he will not be able to overcome this poverty we are experiencing.' I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university.
Nobody knew that on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; 'Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will send money to you.' I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.
With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site, finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university. That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old.
One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me, 'There's a villager waiting for you outside!' Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, 'Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?'
He replied with a smile, 'Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won't they laugh at you?'
I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother's body. And told him with a lump in my throat, 'I don't care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance.'
From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, 'I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. I think you should also have one.' I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried. That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old.
After I got married, I lived in the city. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want. They said once they left the village, they wouldn't know what to do. My brother agreed with them. He said, 'Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of Mom and Dad here.'
My husband became the directors of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being the manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on working as a repairman instead for a start.
One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and was sent to the hospital. My husband and I visited him at the hospital. Looking at the plaster cast on his leg, I grumbled, 'Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won't do something dangerous like that. Now look at you - you are suffering a serious injury. Why didn't you just listen to us?'
With a serious expression on his face, he defended his decision, 'Think of your brother-in-law, he just became the director. If I, being uneducated, would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?'
My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said, 'But you lack in education only because of me!'
'Why do you talk about the past?' he said and then he held my hand. That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old.
My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, 'Who is the one person you respect and love the most?'
Without even taking a time to think, he answered,' My sister.' He continued by telling a story I could not even remember. 'When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village. Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home. One day, I lost one of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers. She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather. She could not even hold her chopsticks. From that day on, I swore that as long as I lived, I would take care of my sister and would always be good to her.'
Applause filled up the room. All guests turned their attention to me. I found it hard to speak, 'In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother,' And in this happy occasion, in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again.
Love and care for the one you love every single day of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.

Take Care of The Rocks First

A philosophy professor stood before his class with some items on the table in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it ...with rocks, about 2 inches in diameter.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks.

He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.


He then asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “Yes.”

“Now,” said the professor, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The rocks are the important things – your family, your partner, your health, your children – things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter – like your job, your house, your car.

The sand is everything else. The small stuff.”

 

“If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued “there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life.
If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children,give lots of love and respect to your partner. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal.

Take care of the rocks first – the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”