The Legend of the Sand Dollar
There’s a lovely little legend
that I would like to tell,
of the birth and death of Jesus,
found in this lowly shell.
If you examine closely,
you’ll see that you find here,
four nail holes and a fifth one,
made by a Roman’s spear.
On one side the Easter lily,
its center is the star,
that appeared unto the shepherds
and led them from afar.
The Christmas Poinsettia
etched on the other side,
reminds us of His birthday,
our happy Christmastide.
Now break the center open,
and here you will release,
the five white doves awaiting,
to spread Good Will and Peace.
This simple little symbol,
Christ left for you and me,
to help us spread His Gospel,
through all Eternity.
One Sunday after service, a minister decided to order the #1 on the Wendy’s menu, with a Frosty added of course, before taking a seat at a nearby table. It wasn’t long, before a group of men who were cussing and speaking profane things, with the stench of beer still on their breaths from the night before, joined the minister at his table. Turning a table of one into a table of many.
At another table close by, some folks who had listened to the minister’s sermon earlier that morning, began to grumble amongst themselves, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” Of course, being at a table nearby, and the churchgoers not being the most quiet of gossipers, the minister heard their words.
He then calmly dipped another fry into his Frosty and munched on it, before speaking in a mild voice, yet loud enough for the other table to hear: Continue reading
I’ve always been one of the “no Christmas music until after thanksgiving” people. But I also start longing for it once the temperatures start dropping. It’s something I’ve never really figured out, until the past couple weeks. While listening to it (through my earbuds, as to not make some upset at the untimely music), I started to evaluate the feelings it was evoking. It gave me a sense of longing. A longing for the colder weather, the food, the snow. But especially the time of family gatherings. Christmas is about the only time my family all gets together, and it’s a special occasion that I love and look forward to every year, and Christmas music helps me to get through those last couple months. Just an insight for those saying it’s too early for the music and the decorations in the stores. For some, its an emotional thing, and provides some sense of happiness in their lives.
Just thought I’d put that out there.
~Shared from Facebook
One of the most tragic stories . . . is the fall of a hero.
There are few stories, that can compete with a good man, who becomes a monster. . . . Yet, monsters are not born, they are made.
There are many variables which mold us . . . but perhaps one of the greatest, are our choices.
We choose, how we react to each circumstance. We choose, how we see this world. We choose, what actions we take. We choose . . .
. . . Any good man, can become something else. One choice at a time.
. . . A hero who turns into monster, is one of the most tragic stories that can ever be told. . . .
But a man, who dies for another, is perhaps the most beautiful.
This week, I was enticed by the story of Margaret Keane.
A few nights ago, I was sifting through Netflix when I stumbled upon the Tim Burton’s film, Big Eyes. I was amazed, awed, and touched by the story of this woman.
Margaret Keane had been painting ever since she was ten, members of her church remembering how she would draw ‘big eyed’ angels. She would later attend the Watkins Art Institute in Nashville and the Traphagen School of Design in New York City. The fingerprint of her paintings being the large eyes of her subjects. For Margaret was fascinated by the eyes, believing them to be the purest expressions of the soul.
After divorcing her first husband, Frank Ulbrich, she became a mother, who was trying to provide for her daughter during the 50’s, a time when women didn’t have many rights. An artist, who fell under the charm of Walter Keane, who portrayed himself to be an artist too. And a storyteller, living out a beautiful story of both light and darkness. Continue reading
This summer, I’m taking a mythology class. As an assignment, I’m supposed to create my own myth. And so here is a myth which has been passed down to me which I thought I would share:
A long time ago, before the age of fire or man, there lived the deity, Amakhozi, on top of Mount Kilimanjaro. Amakhozi was a twin-god, half lion, half tiger, possessing heads, paws, and fur of both, though having the memory of an elephant and the trickery of a monkey. None know who or what had molded Amakhozi, for if you asked him yourself, he would claim to be the first of the gods of the jungle, though the water buffalo know that the heifer-goddess Umama without any doubt had come before him.
Amakhozi though he had all he needed on top his mountain—plentiful water from the most ancient of falls, the richest of fruits, and the best trees so to nap, he was missing what he could see and envied from the animals below him—a companion. True, he did have himself to debate if the world was held up by a gorilla or by elephants, and to discuss all that he observed; however, it was just not the same, for Amakhozi would know what his other head would say before he said it.
And so after a thousand years of pondering and enduring this loneliness, Amakhozi finally decided, for he was not the fastest of thinkers, finally decided that he would leave his mountaintop in search for a friend. Continue reading
The elven archer had slayed the red dragon. Only to be swallowed by the beast within.
2. Dwarf Greed
Beautiful was the flawless diamond found within the dwarven mine. Oh, how great was the covetous fire, engulfing with topaz inferno and onyx smoke within that dwarven mine.
Then, one patient among many—flue, measles, cancer—lying in a white hospital bed, infected with a disease. Now, one world, one disease, one fairness; one thirst—brains! Continue reading
Sorry, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I’ve been pretty busy this last month: Christmas break, slaying dragons, fighting zombies—it’s been pretty hectic. But school’s back in session, which means it’s time to fall back into routine—habit.
Habits, as humans, we tend to fall into a routine, don’t we? I mean, here’s my routine in a typical day:
- Wake up at 8 a.m.—ugh!
- Brush teeth
- Get dressed—(getting rid of stinky breath is much more important than clothes)
- Skip breakfast—bad habit—go to class
- Homework or Work—depending on the day
- Surf Facebook
- More homework
- Fall asleep to Netflix—12 or 1 a.m.
Sounds exciting doesn’t it! I know, I’m living the life. Continue reading