A bowl of noodles from a stranger - Inspiring Touching Story

That night, Sue quarreled with her mother, then stormed out of the house. While enroute, she remembered that she did not have any money in her pocket, she did not even have enough coins to make a phone call home.

At the same time, she went through a noodle shop, picking up sweet fragrance, she suddenly felt very hungry. She wished for a bowl of noodles, but she had no money!
The seller saw her standing wheat faltered before the counter and asked:

- Hey little girl, you want to eat a bowl?
- But … but I do not carry money … she shyly replied.
- Okay, I’ll treat you – the seller said – come in, I will cook you a bowl.
A few minutes later the owner brought her a steaming bowl of noodles. Ate some pieces, Sue cried.
- What is it? – He asked.
- Nothing. I am just touched by your kindness! – Sue said as she wiped her tears.
- Even a stranger on the street gives me a bowl of noodles, and my mother, after a quarrel, chased me out of the house. She is cruel!!
The seller sighed:
- Girl, why did you think so? Think again. I only gave you a bowl of noodles and you felt that way. Your mother had raised you since you were little, why were you not grateful and disobeyed your mom?
Sue was really surprised after hearing that.
“Why did I not think of that? A bowl of noodles from a stranger made me feel indebted, and my mother has raised me since I was little and I have never felt so, even a little.”
On the way home, Sue thought in her head what she would say to her mother when she arrives home: “Mom, I’m sorry. I know it is my fault, please forgive me … ”
Once up the steps, Sue saw her mother worried and tired of looking for her everywhere. Upon seeing Sue, her mother gently said: “Sue, come inside honey. You are probably very hungry? I cooked rice and prepared the meal already, come eat while it is still hot …”
Can not control any longer, Sue cried in her mom’s hands.
In life, we sometimes easy to appreciate the small actions of some people around us, but for the relatives, especially parents, we see their sacrifices as a matter of natural …
Parental love and concern are the most precious gifts we have been given since birth.
Parents do not expect us to pay back for nurturing us …… but have we ever appreciated or treasure the unconditional sacrifice of our parents?

A glass of Milk, paid in Full

One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door.
Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk.

He drank it slowly, and then asked, “How much do I owe you?”
“You don’t owe me anything,” she replied. “Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness.”
He said, “Then I thank you from my heart.”
As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.
Year’s later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease.

Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.
Dressed in his doctor’s gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case.
After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room.
She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She began to read the following words:

“Paid in full with one glass of milk”

Signed, Dr. Howard Kelly.

The little boy-Inspiring Touching Story

Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room.

 She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?”
The surgeon said, “I’m sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn’t make it.”
Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer? Doesn’t God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?”
The surgeon asked, “Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he’s transported to the university.”
Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good-bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.

“Would you like a lock of his hair?” the nurse asked.
Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy’s hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally. The mother said, “It was Jimmy’s idea to donate his body to the university for study. He said it might help somebody else. “I said no at first, but Jimmy said, ‘Mom, I won’t be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.” She went on, “My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.”
Sally walked out of Children’s mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy’s belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy’s belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son’s room. She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:
“Dear Mom,
I know you’re going to miss me; but don’t think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just ’cause I’m not around to say I LOVE YOU. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won’t be so lonely, that’s okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn’t like the same things us boys do. You’ll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don’t be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn’t look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God’s knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That’s when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good-bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn’t allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him ‘Where was He when I needed him?’ “God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.
Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I’ve written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn’t that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I’m, sure the food will be great.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don’t hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I’m glad because I couldn’t stand that pain anymore and God couldn’t stand to see me hurt so much, either. That’s when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?
Signed with Love from: God, Jesus & Me.”

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.”

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.

My Mom Only Had One Eye

My mom only had one eye. I hated her… She was such an embarrassment. She cooked for students and teachers to support the family.

There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to say hello to me. I was so embarrassed.

How  could she do this to me? I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and  ran out. The next day at school one of my classmates said, “EEEE, your  mom only has one eye!”



I wanted to bury myself. I also wanted my  mom to just disappear. I confronted her that day and said, “If you’re  only gonna make me a laughing stock, why don’t you just die?”

My  mom did not respond… I didn’t even stop to think for a second about what  I had said, because I was full of anger. I was oblivious to her  feelings.

I wanted out of that house, and have nothing to do with her. So I studied real hard, got a chance to go abroad to study.

Then,  I got married. I bought a house of my own. I had kids of my own. I was  happy with my life, my kids and the comforts. Then one day, my Mother  came to visit me. She hadn’t seen me in years and she didn’t even meet  her grandchildren.

When she stood by the door, my children laughed  at her, and I yelled at her for coming over uninvited. I screamed at  her, “How dare you come to my house and scare my children! GET OUT OF  HERE! NOW!!!”

And to this, my mother quietly answered, “Oh, I’m so  sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address.” – and she disappeared out  of sight.
One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my  house. So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip. After  the reunion, I went to the old shack just out of curiosity.

My neighbors said that she died. I did not shed a single tear. They handed me a letter that she had wanted me to have.




“My dearest son,
I think of you all the time. I’m sorry that I came to your house and scared your children.
I  was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I may not  be able to even get out of bed to see you. I’m sorry that I was a  constant embarrassment to you when you were growing up.
You  see……..when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost  your eye. As a mother, I couldn’t stand watching you having to grow up  with one eye. So I gave you mine.
I was so proud of my son who was seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye.

Marriage For One Month more

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand  and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly.  Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

Suddenly I didn’t know how  to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a  divorce. I raised the topic calmly.
She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?

I  avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the  chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t  talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what  had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory  answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I  just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce  agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30%  stake of my company.

She glanced at it and then tore it into  pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become  a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I  could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally  she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see.  To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which  had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

The  next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at  the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell  asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane.
When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In  the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn’t want  anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She  requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a  life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a  month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken  marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more,  she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our  wedding day.
She requested that every day for the month’s  duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning.  I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together  bearable I accepted her odd request.

I told Jane about my wife’s  divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No  matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said  scornfully.

My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my  divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on  the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us,  daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of  pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked  over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said  softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat  upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to  work. I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us  acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the  fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this woman  carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There  were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had  taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.

On  the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy  returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.
On  the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was  growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry  her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me  stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on  quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed,  all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown  so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.

Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.

Our  son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry mom out. To  him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential  part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged  him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change  my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from  the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand  surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was  just like our wedding day.

But her much lighter weight made me  sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a  step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t  noticed that our life lacked intimacy.
I drove to office… jumped  out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay  would make me change my mind… I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door  and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.

She  looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a  fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I  won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I  didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each  other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on  our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.

Jane  seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed  the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.

At  the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife.  The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote,  I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.

That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed – dead.

My  wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to  even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me  from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push thru  with the divorce –At least, in the eyes of our son— I’m a loving  husband…

The small details of  your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the  mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an  environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in  themselves. So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do those little  things for each other that build intimacy. Do have a real happy  marriage!