It was late October and my son, Danny and I stopped at our mailbox before we went to the local diner for some food. I handed the mail to Danny and he looked through during our less than mile drive. As we arrived at the diner he discovered the envelope that held his scholarship award. He said to me, “Mom, wouldn’t it be funny if this is a full scholarship?”

At the age of twelve Danny told me a phrase that I would hear many times during the next six years, “Mom, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m going to get you a scholarship.” At the time we had one daughter in college and another one ready to start upon graduation from high school and Danny realized the financial burden it had on our family. He was athletic and knew he wanted to play a sport in college. He just needed to decide which sport - football, basketball or baseball.

We sat in the car looking at the envelope from Piedmont College, a small Division III school in Georgia approximately 600 miles away. It was at a camp that previous July that we heard of this school for the very first time. In August, as the baseball coach started to recruit Danny we went to visit the school. We were told to expect a third to a half as a scholarship offer, and yet Danny had worked hard for six years and believed he would receive a full scholarship offer.




As he carefully began to open the envelope images flashed through my mind of all the difficulties and struggles he had overcome to arrive at this point. The day he was born he was airlifted to a major hospital with a collapsed lung to dealing with Juvenile Diabetes since age eight and multiple other issues. Then there was the disappointments of not getting on the baseball team he wanted or times others laughed at him and tried to discourage him as an athlete. Through all of this he kept a positive attitude and continued to achieve and accomplish goal after goal like clockwork always staying focused on the ultimate dream. And now he was holding that dream in his hand.

As he went through the papers in the envelope, he finally arrived at the one that stated his scholarship amount. Our eyes went from the award to each other as with smiles, laughter, and hugs he had indeed accomplished the ultimate dream. All the struggles, roadblocks, health issues, disappointments were no longer important. He had given his all putting consistent action behind his dream. He had not allowed the many obstacles to deter his effort. Yes, six plus years of hard work had paid off in a big way. Yet Danny did not do anything that any other child could not also accomplish.

The difference was Danny did not give up on his dream even when he was tested multiple times during the years. Danny believed in his dream and focused on the steps that were necessary to accomplish his goal. Far too often children and adults quit too soon. The road is always going to have bumps and potholes along the way. It may appear that some have a smooth road, but I guarantee you that is not the case and certainly not the case for Danny.

Courage - The Act And Art Of Facing What Is

Danny had many times that would have discouraged many children from continuing. He had so many obstacles to and situations to overcome. He found many times that when one opportunity for achievement did not come his way as expected another better one would open.

Danny thought he knew every piece in the puzzle and when those pieces did not fall in place, I would tell him, “Danny there is a reason this happened and eventually we will find the answer.” Make life an adventure and realize that you are not in control as much as you would like to believe.

A year ago, when Danny was a freshman in college, I asked him if he liked the school he was attending. I did not want him to think that he had to stay 600 miles away from home if he was not happy. He looked at me and told me how much he liked the area and the school and then he said something that showed his wisdom. He said, “I don’t know why I am here, but I feel like there is a reason that I was brought to this school. Eventually I will discover the reason.”

There is a greater Power out there that has the answers we do not. We must trust and have faith that the result we are looking for will come even though we may be discouraged at the moment. So often when we do not get what we want it is because there is something better coming our way. The most important thing you can do is to stay focused daily on your dream and build the image of what you want. That is Your Dream Power.

Patricia Stepler

Patricia has just released her first book, Your Dream Power. She has also created a program that goes along with the study of the book that is available to individuals and schools. The program relates Your Dream Power to stories of famous people, quotes, and interjected worksheets that help children internalize the teaching of the Power Messages. Be sure to go here now and get your copy and learn more about Patricia: www.yourdreampowerbook.com

 

Billy cannot hit anybody. Although his father yells: ‘Hit him!’ He cannot comprehend that order. In fact, the delicately built boy appears virtually camouflaged by the excessively large head protector and the boxing gloves. Awkwardly, he moves against the ropes, until he is felled by an uppercut from his opponent. Once again, Billy Elliot finds himself on the ground – the father is ashamed and the trainer is in despair. Why is it that the boy seems unable to learn the sport that is adored by real men? Billy is simply not born to be a boxer.

Outside in the streets in Durham, Northern England, miners are on strike against the closure of the coalmines. Elliot’s father is one of them, and is ready to fight with his fists against the police in order to defend his sparse livelihood. He understands the harsh signs of life. He knows he can no longer rely on politics; he has found his hopes dashed only too often. He wants the best for his sons – even his youngest, Billy, is supposed to learn early how to defend himself. Therefore, he has to attend the boxing gym. It all makes sense. It is an investment in the future of the child, so he believes. However, Billy feels differently. He has been aware of it since he saw the gym divided into one half where the boys were boxing, while in the other half the girls were practicing ballet dancing. Billy is fascinated by this type of sport. In their white tutus the girls seem to float above the ground, and with their graceful steps and delicate jumps they practically coalesce with the music.

The dancing instructress, a sensitive woman, recognizes the yearnings in Billy; she supports him and secretly she even gives him private dancing lessons. But the father discovers the secret. The conflict breaks out: ‘Dancing is something for girls!’




Yet, Billy Elliot is not discouraged; arguments, ridicule… no obstacle can deter him in his efforts to make his dream come true. The father gives in. Billy becomes a dancer, a star at the Royal Ballet School. Billy was born to be a dancer.

This touching story comes from the movie ‘Billy Elliot – I will dance’. It takes the audience back to the year 1984, when the dividing line between men and women was painted with thick brush strokes. Even though this line may well be softer nowadays, the theme of this movie remains topical: finding one’s identity. Humans strive to discover themselves, to structure their life according to their own desires, and that on the outside of conventions. After all, we all carry the seeds of happiness within us. For Billy this was dancing. Initially, the members of his family did not understand this; they were taken aback, even aggressive, and they even asked themselves whether there was something wrong with the boy.

I will tell you what was wrong with Billy: Nothing! He was perfectly all right. He followed his own voice and became stronger because of it.

Wolfgang Sonnenburg

Wolfgang Sonnenburg founded WINSPIRATION, an international movement created to inspire awareness and action so that we can shape our lives through our own positive acts, and carry that inspiration with us throughout the whole year. We can recognize the opportunities that can influence and change our own future, the future of society, and even the world!

WINSPIRATION DAY is a day of human synergy all around the globe, supporting all positive actions and initiatives: www.winspiration.global WINSPIRATION DAY was established so that we can come together once a year to celebrate our potential for a happy and fulfilled life, and take the positive benefits forward so we can all look towards a better future. If you are interested in becoming a Global host for Winspiration feel free to send a message to: global@winspirationday.org

What scares you? What stories do you make up to con yourself into holding back? What would you do if you didn't con yourself into being scared?

I've done something that scared the heck out of me. But it also turned out to be the best thing I've ever done!

Two years ago, I discovered that my Dad needed a kidney and as soon as I realized I might be the answer he needed, the voices in my head began to resist and shout!

"NO WAY can I give up a kidney! Are you kidding me!? I need both kidneys! I can't do it!"

Fear struck me down in an instant. I had never given up a body part. For that matter, I had never even stayed in hospital.

Despite the fear, I mentally considered the idea ... and I the more I thought about it, the more terrified I became. What if I had kidney failure in the future? Would I be able to have kids? What if something went wrong and I had impaired health for the rest of my life? Don't we need both kidneys?

All the while, Dad never asked me or any other member of our family for a kidney. I decided to get tested on my own. I was the only one in my family that got tested and I felt isolated. I felt like Dad's health was my responsibility alone. The fear held an even firmer grip on my mind.


 

And to accelerate the mental spin I was already in, there were plenty of well-meaning people ready to offer up their unsolicited opinion to help build and fortify my "wall of fear."

These were just a few of the fantastic and ridiculous comments I heard:

· "I know someone who donated a kidney and they got really fat as a result. You might get really fat". (A young woman's worst fear!)

· "Will you be able to have children?"

· "You'll have to give up alcohol."

· "You'll have to change your diet, become a vegetarian."

· "What happens if your kidney fails and you don't have a spare?"

· "What if you're in a car accident and your remaining kidney gets hurt?"

· "What about the yin and yang and flow through your body that they refer to in Chinese medicine? Losing a kidney will interrupt that and ruin your health!"

In the midst of all that, I decided to move forward. Dad told me I could pull out at anytime and he wouldn't think the worst of me. But I had made up my mind and I began to rise above the fear, rise above my own con job.

 

By the time the day of the operation arrived, I was actually calm.

When I awoke from the surgery, the doctors had me on a drip line and added 7kg of fluid to my body - even my chicken legs were fat! And they had pumped my body cavity full of gas. My surgeons joked that I looked like I should be in the maternity ward!

But, guess what? That was the worst of it. Despite my fears and the warnings of well-meaning friends, there were no complications and my recovery was quick. I was only in the hospital for 4 days. It only took a week for the fluid to leave my body and a few short months for the swelling to deflate completely. I was dancing - albeit somewhat carefully - after just 2 weeks, and returned to work after 4 weeks.

Now, giving up a kidney should be pretty scary for anyone, right? It's an important body part and you can't get it back once it's gone. It certainly was a scary prospect for me! But I did it, and the truth is that it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't a big deal at all! It was only my thinking that made it so. It's sort of like bungy jumping. The scariest part is the fear you con yourself into believing before you jump. After you jump, it's exhilarating.

I realized that I was incredibly fortunate to have been given an opportunity to donate my kidney. With that realization, though, came an insightful question that stopped me in my tracks:

If I could give up a kidney ... if it really wasn't such a big deal ... then what else could I have done if I hadn't let fear get in the way?

I could ... I CAN ... do so much more! I got it! I wasn't living up to my potential and I was 100% responsible. The only thing holding me back was me! I have since decided that I am not going to waste another minute. I LIVE, not exist. I've got massive goals and thoroughly ENJOY every moment of my life.

It's been over two years now and I'm delighted to report that Dad hasn't rejected the kidney. My gift has given Dad a far superior quality of life, has had zero adverse effects on my health, and the whole experience has undoubtedly brought Dad & I closer. I have realized that the joy is truly in the giving.

And I understand that fear is simply a con game we play on ourselves. It is all in our mind.

By acting in the face of fear and giving up my kidney, I received the greatest gift imaginable. I feel fantastic! My life is utterly different now, I LOVE it! From this experience, I've acquired a massive desire to wake people up, to let them know that they should never let fear hold them back, to inspire them to live NOW ...and to make the world a better place.

I'm up for big stuff ... and I'm going for it.
What are you up for? You'll only discover what you're capable of doing if you are willing to do it afraid!
Adrienne Rich
Auckland, New Zealand, Current Member - Bob Proctor Coaching Program

For more information on Bob Proctor Coaching programs or to comment on today's story, please email: bob@bobproctorcoaching.com 

 

You know how everyone gets random phone calls that aren't meant for them? It happens all the time and chances are its happened to you before. They could have simply dialed one wrong number or had a completely wrong number. It happens all the time. Anyways, when I was younger I use to be very rude to people who would call me randomly, I never had the patience to deal with them and I would usually do one of two things, chew them out or hang up on them.

About a year ago, I started getting calls from this lady in Florida who thought I was her Grandson. At first, I admit, I was irritated. Especially because of how many times she would call. I would always tell her that NO, I was not her Grandson and that she had the wrong number. She would be very apologetic and tell me how she just wanted to know how her Grandson was doing. After a while, I started getting the feeling that the old lady was alone and may have dementia or Alzheimer's because she always seemed surprised when I would tell her that I wasn't her Grandson and that she had the wrong number.

Now to provide you with a little background information, my Grandfather had Alzheimer's and I never met any of my other Grandparents, so there has always been that missing piece in my heart especially now seeing how much my nephews and nieces love spending time with their Grandparents. Because of this, I always have had a soft spot for the elderly and especially those with mind altering diseases. So, I made a conscious decision to start talking to this elderly lady and "pretended" to be her Grandson. She would call me asking me about how my life was going and I would tell her about my actual life. I would tell her how I was going to school to become a teacher, how excited I was when I graduated and started subbing. I told her my hopes, fears and desires. I told her more details about my life than I have ever shared with a complete stranger before. Sometimes we would just talk about life.

I told a couple of my close friends and family about this elderly lady but not many because to be honest, I didn't want to come off as a crazy person who was pretending to be someone I wasn't. Deep down I always looked forward to her calls and even when if I was busy, I would be sure to always answer and talk even if it was only briefly. Then about a couple months ago, the phone calls stopped. I was worried and had no way of reaching her since she always called from a restricted Florida number. The only information I knew was that her name was Beatrice. I assumed the worse and hoped in some small way I made a difference in her life.

Today, I received a phone call from a Florida number. It was from an orderly who identified themselves as an employee at Sutton Homes in Florida. I had no clue who this person was or why they were calling. I almost hung up on her to be honest. Then the girl said something that caught my attention, she said one name, Beatrice. She told me about this lovely elderly woman she had been taking care of for years. The woman would always talk to her about her Grandson and how proud she was of him becoming a teacher. She would say how she knew what an amazing teacher her Grandson would become. The orderly was confused about this because Beatrice had no living family, yet she would always call the same number and speak to a young man. It was then she told me that Beatrice had passed away at age 87 on Monday, July 16. She wanted to call and let me know how much my phone conversations meant to Beatrice over the years and how she always proudly spoke about her Grandson.

I sat there, stunned, as tears started pouring down my face. I never met this woman. I don't even know what she looked like. What started off as a joke, became something so much more that I looked forward to and in a way this lady took the place of my Grandparents I never was able to meet. I never was able to tell Beatrice that I got a job as a full time teacher. She would have been so proud, just like I know my own Grandparents would have been. There's still so much more I would like to share with her but can't now.

The moral of the story
---------------------------
I suppose is that you don't know how much you mean to the people in your life especially the random ones. Love with all of your heart and never hold back, but most importantly, never ever hang up when an elderly woman calls hoping to speak with her Grandson, it may just end up changing your life.
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From Joshua Hertweck on Facebook

 

 

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder.

I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being..

She said, 'Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?'

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, 'Of course you may!' and she gave me a giant squeeze..

'Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?' I asked.

She jokingly replied, 'I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids...'

'No seriously,' I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

'I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!' she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.

We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this 'time machine' as she shared her wisdom and experience with me..

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she revelled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor.

Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, 'I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.'

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, ' We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.

There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humour every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die.

We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!

There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.

If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.

Anybody! Can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets.

The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets..'

She concluded her speech by courageously singing 'The Rose.'

She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those months ago.

One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.

Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.

When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they'll really enjoy it!

These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE..

 

The primary responsibility for instilling good values and building character is with parents. This doesn’t mean, however, that teachers and coaches don’t have a critically important role.

The unfortunate fact is that far too many kids are raised in morally impoverished settings that foster lying, cheating, and violence. If we don’t give these children moral instruction, many of them will become predators. And I know it works because of Jesse, a young man I met in Tulare County, California.

Jesse was in an alternative school because he had serious behavioral problems. About a month after his school incorporated character-development strategies into the curriculum, Jesse found the janitor’s keys. To a kid with a history of theft, this was a mighty temptation. When he voluntarily turned them in, people were shocked. When I asked him why, he surprised me with his answer. He didn’t say anything about a new commitment to honesty. He said simply, “I didn’t want the janitor to lose his job.”

It’s likely Jesse would not have thought about the janitor weeks before. What changed was he had been given a simple thinking tool that helped him see the way his choices could affect other people. Jesse was taught to identify “stakeholders” – all the people likely to be affected by a choice – and to think about how they might be affected.

Despite Jesse’s flaws, he had decent instincts and didn’t want to do something that would hurt the janitor. His teachers didn’t teach him to care about others, but they gave him a way of thinking that unleashed the caring part of his nature.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

 

Michael Josephson is an influential and internationally renowned champion of character education for youth and ethical conduct in business, government, policing, journalism, sports, healthcare and law.   His website:   What will Matter has Quotes, insights and images about a life that matters.

 

(Story originally published here)  


As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.

The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address.

I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline–1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago. It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a “Dear John” letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him.

It was signed, Hannah.

It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.

Operator,” I began, “this is an unusual request. I’m trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?” She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, “Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can’t give you the number.” She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. “I have a party who will speak with you.”

I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, “Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!”

“Would you know where that family could be located now?” I asked.

“I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago,” the woman said. “Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter.”

She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living.

I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.

This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?

Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, “Yes, Hannah is staying with us. ”

Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. “Well,” he said hesitatingly, “if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television.”

I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.

She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye.

I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, “Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael.”

She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said Softly, “I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor.”

“Yes,” she continued. “Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And,” she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, “tell him I still love him. You know,” she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, “I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael…”

I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, “Was the old lady able to help you?”

I told him she had given me a lead. “At least I have a last name. But I think I’ll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet.”

I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, “Hey, wait a minute! That’s Mr. Goldstein’s wallet. I’d know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He’s always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times.”

“Who’s Mr. Goldstein?” I asked as my hand began to shake.

“He’s one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That’s Mike Goldstein’s wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks.”

I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse’s office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.

On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, “I think he’s still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He’s a darling old man.”

We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, “Oh, it is missing!”

“This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?”

I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, “Yes, that’s it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward.”

“No, thank you,” I said. “But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet.”

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. “You read that letter?”

“Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is.”

He suddenly grew pale. “Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me,” he begged.

“She’s fine…just as pretty as when you knew her.” I said softly.

The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, “Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow.” He grabbed my hand and said, “You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I’ve always loved her. ”

“Mr. Goldstein,” I said, “Come with me.”

We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.

“Hannah,” she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in

the doorway. “Do you know this man?”

She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn’t say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, “Hannah, it’s Michael. Do you remember me?”

She gasped, “Michael! I don’t believe it! Michael! It’s you! My Michael!” He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.

“See,” I said. “See how the Good Lord works! If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. “Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!”

It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man.

The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.

A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.