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Waves of the life çå½ç波纹
Sioux Indian story ...
My grandfather took me to the fish pond on the farm when I was about seven, and he told me to throw a stone into the water. He told me to watch the circles created by the stone. Then he asked me to think of myself as that stone.
"You may create lots of splashes in your life, but the waves that come from those splashes will disturb the peace of all your fellow creatures," he said.
"Remember that you are responsible for what you put in your circle and that circle will also touch many other circles."
"You will need to live in a way that allows the good that comes from your circle to send the peace of that goodness to others. The splash that comes from anger or jealousy will send those feelings to other circles. You are responsible for both."
That was the first time I realized that each person creates the inner peace or discord that flows out into the world. We cannot create world peace if we are riddled with inner conflict, hatred, doubt, or anger.
We radiate the feelings and thoughts that we hold inside, whether we speak them or not. Whatever is splashing around inside of us is spilling out into the world, creating beauty or discord with all other circles of life.
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Wind of forgiveness 宽æçé£
The story goes that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face.
The one who got slapped felt hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand: "Today my best friend slapped me in the face."
They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him.
After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone: "Today my best friend saved my life."
The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now you write on a stone. Why?"
The other friend replied: "When someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it."
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Lake Of Autumn
I remember quite clearly now when the story happened. The autumn leaves were floating in measure down to the ground, recovering the lake, where we used to swim like children, under the sun was there to shine. That time we used to be happy. Well, I thought we were. But the truth was that you had been longing to leave me, not daring to tell me. On that precious night, watching the lake, vaguely conscious, you said: âOur story is ending.â
The rain was killing the last days of summer. You had been killing my last breath of love, since a long time ago. I still donât think Iâm gonna make it through another love story. You took it all away from me. And there I stand, I knew I was going to be the one left behind. But still Iâm watching the lake, vaguely conscious, and I know my life is ending.
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Love is a two-way streetç±æ¯ä¸æ¡åè¡é
A father sat at his desk poring over his monthly bills when his young son rushed in and announced,
âDad, because this is your birthday and youâre 55 years old, Iâm going to give you 55 kisses, one for each year!â When the boy started making good on his word, the father exclaimed, âOh, Andrew, donât do it now; Iâm too busy!â
The youngster immediately fell silent as tears welled up in his big blue eyes. Apologically the father said, âYou can finish later.â
The boy said nothing but quietly walked away, disappointment written over his face. That evening the father said, âCome and finish the kisses now, Andrew!â But the boy didnât respond.
Unfortunately, a few days later after this incident, the boy had an accident and was drowned. His heartbroken father wrote...
âIf only I could tell him how much I regret my thoughtless words, and could be assured that he knows how much my heart is aching.â
â¦Love is a two-way street. Any loving act must be warmly accepted or it will be taken as rejection and can leave a scar. If we are too busy to give and receive love, we are too busy! Nothing is more important than responding with love to the cry for love from those who are near and precious to us. Because... there may be no chance at all as in the case of the little boy...
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The Real Meaning of Peaceå®éççè°ï¼æ²¡æç¿»è¯åï¼
There once was a king who offered a prize to the artist who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists tried. The king looked at all the pictures. But there were only two he really liked, and he had to choose between them. One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a perfect mirror for peaceful towering mountains all around it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect picture of peace.
The other picture had mountains, too. But these were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky, from which rain fell and in which lightning played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all.
But when the king looked closely, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of angry water, sat the mother bird on her nest â in perfect peace.
Which picture do you think won the prize? The king chose the second picture. Do you know why?
âBecause,â explained the king, âpeace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace.â
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