If you think you are beaten,
you are.
If you think you dare not,
you won't.
Success begins with your own will ...
It's all in your state of mind.
Life's battles are not always won
By those who are stronger or faster;
Sooner or later the person who wins
Is the person who thinks
he can.
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The Carpenter I hired to help me restore an old farmhouse had just finished a rough first day on the job. A flat tire made him lose an hour or work, his electric saw quit, and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start.
While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.
When he opened the door of his house he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.
Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.
"Oh, that's my trouble tree," he replied. "I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one thing's for sure, troubles don't belong in the house with my wife and the children. So, I just hang them on the tree every night when I come home. Then in the morning I pick them up again."
"Funny thing is," he smiled, "when I come out in the morning to pick 'em up, there ain't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before."
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Obstacles are what you see when you take your eyes off your goals.
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THE PROPOSAL
Many years ago, there was a shy young farmer who was in love with a beautiful maiden who seemed to him much too wonderful to be asked for. He loved her in silence for ten years. During this time he built a fine house with a lovely garden and barn, though he hadn't yet dared to propose.
When everything was finished he invited the maiden and her family to come over and see his estate. They all went through the house together and visited the garden and barnyard. The maiden and her parents were gracious with their praise and approval. The young man was jockeying for an opportunity to be alone with the maiden, but was only able to do so at the pigpen. They stood silently contemplating the pigpen. Finally the young man timidly asked, "Anna, what do you think, should we have pigs?"
"Yes," answered Anna tenderly, "I think we should."
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Any great acheivement is preceded by many difficulties and many lessons
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LAWS OF NATURE
I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark of a tree, just as the butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out. I waited a while, but it was too long appearing and I was impatient. I bent over it and breathed on it to warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to happen before my eyes, faster than life. The case opened, the butterfly started slowly crawling out and I shall never forget my horror when I saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them. Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain. It needed to be hatched out patiently and the unfolding wings should be a gradual process in the sun. Now it was too late. My breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its time. It struggled desperately and, a few seconds later, died in the palm of my hand.
That little body is, I do believe, the greatest weight on my conscience. For I realize today that it is a mortal sin to violate the great laws of nature. We should not hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should confidently obey the eternal rhythm.
I sat on a rock to absorb this thought. Ah, if only that little butterfly could always flutter before me to show me the way.
-- Nikos Kazantazakis.
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Your most valuable asset can be your ability to persist longer than anyone else
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The Last Summer Sunset
by Darrell Mangum
Today was the last big bash of the summer.
We all went to East Canyon Reservoir for some late August boating and swimming. Dad even got pulled on a water-ski.
It was a special day, because school around here had already started, and we had to get the kids out of class for our last big fling. I hate year-round school, it ruins the summer. There's nothing more important than spending the summer with the kids. The whole summer.
This year we had put some extra emphasis on summer fun. It seemed like for the last few years, something had always gotten in the way. Last year mom had a baby, the year before she had a miscarriage. Before that Dad was in school, or mom was pregnant, or something. This year nothing stood in the way, and we had decided as a family, to have one heck of a summer. The question every week was: What are we going to do next? It had really been great. Today's lake adventure would be the last. It had been a successful summer of adventures, but next week we would have to start thinking about how we wanted Fall to turn out.
After the waterskiing and boating, there was a great evening of playing in the water on the beach. I went to the marina store for a pop and stood on the balcony of the marina, watching the kids squealing and playing, running along the beach and splashing in the water. I watched their mother carrying the baby on her hip, showing her how to splash and play and squeal with her siblings. The baby was amazed.
I gazed upon the scene, and was overcome with joy and emotion. Surely this was what it's all about; those kids represented everything we've ever wanted, everything we've worked and fought for. They were over-flowing with life, happiness, and security.
It was over too soon, and we were in the van, heading for home. We made our way down the canyon, and past the little farms in the valley, and the kids wanted to sleep. They were exhausted.
My wife noticed the sunset glowing behind the majestic Wasatch Mountains to the west of us, and prodded the children to crowd the windows and look. There were appropriate 'Ooo's and Ahh's'. The clouds were rolling over the mountain peaks and the colors were deep and bright. It was truly beautiful. The sun was no longer visible, but it's rays shot up from behind the mountains like fiery spokes on a wheel. The power behind the rays and the clouds and the entire sunset made us feel that God himself must have designed and prepared the scene.
Then I noticed something else in that sunset.
On the other side of that mountain range, still bathed in sunlight, my children were playing in that sunset. They would never leave that summer sun. To them, the mountains were a play castle, and the sunset was something to play in, the warmth of it would keep them warm forever. I could see their heads popping up between the mountain peaks, hiding, playing and laughing, larger than life, grinning at me down here driving in my van. They were going away with the sunset, going away with the summer.
Going away? Of course.
I could see Xochi holding Lalli on her hip, like her mother had taught her to do. They smiled and waved at me, ran their fingers through the rays of the sunset like a great harp, and then ducked back down behind the mountain, ready to run off with the summer sun that was beaconing them to follow.
I could see my boys, Acey and Ethan, jumping up from behind the mountains, pushing between them at the sunshine on the other side, laughing and smiling, to trying and splash a last little bit of that summer sunshine on me, before it was all gone. I could feel the sunshine they had splashed on me, and it made me warm and shivery at the same time. I could see that my boys were ready to run off after their sunset.
Maybe you're thinking that I was wrong, that I was imagining the whole thing. But it was true. Yes, next year we would come back, and do more boating and skiing, and playing in the water and on the beach, but with different kids, with new swimsuits and bigger shoes.
Next year Xochi would no longer be 8, she would be nine, and with a whole new world of things to interest her. Acey would no longer be a beginning first grader, but he would be a well-seasoned second grader. Ethan would no longer be Momma's special little stay-at-home boy, but he would be the new "kindergarten kid". And Lalli, our last little one, would no longer be a one-year-old, a baby in arms, peering at the world from over my shoulder, but she would be a running, talking, splashing two year old.
The kids that were playing with me today at the lake, were not the ones falling asleep here in the van, they were those four I could see in the last summer sunset, staying forever in that glorious sunshine. Now the sunset was beginning to fade, and the colors on the clouds in the west were magnificent, trailing off in deep hews, far off in the west. Those kids were very distant now, they had to stay with that sunset. But I could still see them, walking away and holding hands, turning to wave one more time at me. I could even hear them: "Bye Daddy! Bye-Bye Daddy! Wave to Daddy, Lalli. Bye Bye Daddy!" And then the colors darkened as the night finally took over and they were gone. Gone forever. Wherever the last summer sunset had taken them, they would never come back.
I was choking down tears as I made small talk with my wife until we got home. I carried each child into the house, and lingered over them as I tucked them into their beds.
Would I deny them the chance to grow up?
No.
Would I have them as babies forever?
Of course not.
Would I want to live this day on the lake and have it never end?
No.
Am I sure of my answers?
I don't think so.
I found some wedding pictures that my wife was preparing for a scrap book. What beauty! Such a beautiful girl. She's still just as beautiful, but different. She's a different woman now, after ten years of growing, learning, mothering, sharing, and progressing. Would I have back that doe-eyed college girl I once married?
Absolutely not! I love this one I have, and somehow I don't miss the past when I think of our marriage, I look with love to the future. What makes it so different with my children?
Being the father of very small children, toddlers and babies, has been the happiest time of my life. I've thrilled at every moment. But they change every day, they are different every year. Sometimes it hurts.
The kids were all down in bed now, except for Lalli. She came toddling into my room, and stood by me and patted my leg. She seemed to notice I was a little blue. She left, but came toddling back quickly with a picture book in her hands. She smiled brightly and exclaimed: "Got book! Got book!" I sat her on my knee, and we examined the book. She got bored, and I put her down. Julie was still in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. Lalli discovered her shoes, and tried to put them on. Mom's shoes were just too big, and Lalli couldn't stand up. But she grinned at me anyway, pointing at the shoes and telling me: "Mom! Mom!" How I would love to have this moment forever. Snapshots and videos make a valiant effort, but fall short of capturing the feeling.
So next year we'll go back to the lake, but with new kids. I guess the trick is in anxiously waiting to meet them, get to know them, and love them as if they were your own.
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Difficulties come not to obstruct, but to instruct.
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Through My Daddy's Eyes
As my father sees me, so shall I.
As a daughter, all my self-worth comes from how much my father values me.
The amount of affection he pays me as a child is what I will expect from a mate.
The respect he shows my mother, will be what I will tolerate from a husband.
The time invested in me as a child, will equal the amount of time I invest in him during his "golden" years.
How he sees me in his eyes, is how I will see myself.
A little girl becomes exactly what her father says she is.
I will be the product of what you do and say around me, to me, and to others.
No compliment or blessing is any higher than that of my daddy's.
In short, how you see me, is how I will be.
The least little comment, especially negative, I will take to heart.
You think the sun will rise and set with me, but without you I have no world.
You are my daddy--and little girl's NEED their daddy's.
by "M. Carr"
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WHEN YOU THOUGHT I WASN'T LOOKING
By MARY RITA SCHILKE KORZAN
When you thought I wasn't looking, you hung my first painting on the refrigerator, and I wanted to paint another.
When you thought I wasn't looking, you fed a stray cat, and I thought it was good to be kind to animals.
When you thought I wasn't looking, you baked a birthday cake just for me, and I knew that little things were special things.
When you thought I wasn't looking, you said a prayer, and I believed there was a God that I could always talk to.
When you thought I wasn't looking, you kissed me good-night, and I felt loved.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things hurt--but that it's all right to cry.
When you thought I wasn't looking, you smiled, and it made me want to look that pretty, too.
When you thought I wasn't looking, you cared, and I wanted to be everything I could be.
When you thought I wasn't looking--I looked . . . and wanted to say thanks for all those things
you did when you thought I wasn't looking.
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