Story Day 16 — The Little Girl Santa Claus Didn’t Know

I guess it’s OK to just post a cute story.  Not one that has a lot of significance….but a cute story full of hopes and dreams.  If only wishes could come true so easily!  Then again….. many other beloved Christmas stories are similar to this!

I hope you enjoy it!


A poor woman wandered through the city streets on a cold and miserable winter evening. She was expecting a baby and about to give birth. Each step brought her closer to that moment. Eventually she had to squat down behind some dustbins. If you had been there you would shortly afterwards have heard the baby’s first cry. But of course you weren’t there, for little Maria was born on Christmas Eve. At that time you were probably waiting impatiently for Santa Claus to knock on your door.

The poor woman wrapped her baby tightly in a shawl to protect her from the cold wind. She looked down at her, smiled and carried her gently to some cardboard boxes where she lived. No doubt you think that Santa Claus should have given Maria a present, but he had never heard of the poor woman and no one had told him that a tiny child had been born that Christmas Eve. No one in the whole city knew her or that she was expecting a baby. Santa Claus landed Rudolf the reindeer and his sleigh in the town square.

He consulted his big book of names, and went from door to door handing out presents. On his way he passed by the cardboard boxes where the poor woman lay with her new-born child. He thought he heard a baby cry but could see no one. To be quite certain he consulted his book again, but there was no mention of a child living there. “It’s just my imagination,” he thought, and continued through the city with his gifts for the children.

Maria turned 1, 2 and 3 years and still Santa Claus knew nothing about her. She lived with her mother, and all they had to eat were the scraps of food they could find in the dustbins. They were badly clothed, in hardly more than rags, and very poor. At night they still lay under their cardboard boxes as they had no real house to live in.

By the time Maria turned 4 and Christmas Eve came around once again she realised something was wrong. They sat in their cardboard house and watched as Santa Claus landed in the nearby street. Santa took a large sack of presents and went from door to door with gifts for the children, but he didn’t come to her.

Maria turned to her mother and asked “Mummy, why don’t I get Christmas presents like the other children?” Her mother did not know. “Perhaps it’s because we are so poor,” she replied stroking Maria’s hair consolingly. “Didn’t you get presents when you were little?” she asked. “No,” her mother said, “I was never given any presents either. Maria thought this most unfair. She glanced across at Santa’s sleigh and wondered whether she should run across to it and wait there until he returned. Then she would say to him “Here I am Santa Claus, why don’t I get presents like all the other children?”Yes, that’s what she would do!

She ran from the cardboard boxes and jumped into Santa’s sleigh. Her mother shouted after her to come back. But just then Santa came out of a house and hurried back to his sleigh. Maria became frightened when she saw Santa Claus coming towards her so she ducked down between the large sacks of presents. Santa Claus jumped in, grabbed the reins and shouted “Gee up Rudolf.” Before Maria had time to think, Rudolf set off down the street.

From her hiding-place among the sacks she saw her mother standing by the cardboard boxes watching what happened, in dismay. Maria wondered whether she should jump off, but suddenly they were airborne. She peeped cautiously down, the wind blew through her hair and she could see tiny houses with yellow lights far below. Above her the stars twinkled and the moon smiled down at her. Santa Claus held the reins and Rudolf galloped as fast as he could go.

She was rather frightened, and that isn’t so surprising, but she believed Santa Claus to be a kind man. She studied him for a while from her hiding-place. He looked as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself. He smiled and laughed and sang Christmas carols the whole time. His white beard looked very soft and warm and his eyes shone.

She crept carefully from her hiding- place so he could see her. She was very embarrassed as you can well imagine, but also very excited. When Santa Claus saw her among his sacks of presents he was quite startled. “Ho, ho, what’s this, have I got a visitor?” he said and smiled. “And a little princess too, what a lovely surprise. Who are you?” Maria looked shyly down at her shoes and replied “I am a girl you don’t know.

“Santa Claus looked shocked. “I don’t know you? It can’t be true,” he said “look here, I have lists of every little girl and boy in the whole world,” and he showed her his book of names. Maria was feeling much braver by this time. She looked at him and said “It’s quite true Santa Claus. You don’t know me, and you didn’t know my mummy either when she was a little girl. I was born behind some dustbins on Christmas Eve four years ago.”

Santa Claus looked very upset. “Is that so,” he said seriously. “Have neither you nor your mother ever had any presents from me? How dreadful. Now you must tell me your name.”Maria gave Santa Claus her name and he looked through all his books. He searched and searched but couldn’t find her anywhere. “Then I had better add you to my list,” he said. Santa Claus took out his pen and wrote her name in the book. “There we are, now I will make sure that a present is made for you every year.

” Maria realised that she wouldn’t be getting any gifts this year either. First they had to be made in Santa Claus’s workshop. She was terribly disappointed and turned away so that Santa Claus shouldn’t see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

But Santa Claus is a wise man and knew what Maria was thinking. “I am terribly sorry,” he said, “I only have presents for the children listed in my book.” He put his arm around her and gave her a hug. “Don’t be sad,” he said, “I have something even better here in my pocket.

“Santa Claus took out a glass ball and showed it to her. It was full of water and inside was a cosy little red house. “As you have never had a Christmas present and because it is your birthday today, I am going to give you this magic ball.” Maria held it in her hands and smiled. It was smooth and shiny and when she shook it, it became full of snow which fell slowly onto the roof of the house.

“Thank you,” she said and curtsied. “It is really lovely.” Santa Claus smiled at her fondly. “It is a very special glass ball. When you shake this one you can make a wish at the same time.” Maria looked at the ball and thought of all the things she would like, but then Santa continued: “But you will only be granted one wish, so you must choose carefully. It must be something you need very badly.

“By now they had arrived at the next town on Santa Claus’ list. He pulled on the reins and steered Rudolf down towards the ground. Maria clasped the glass ball tightly as they descended. The tiny houses grew larger and larger and she could even see a train far below. Rudolf looped around the church steeple and landed in front of the railway station. Maria would have liked to stay with Santa Claus and help him deliver the presents. She looked up at him and said “Do you think . . ?”

But Santa knew what she had in mind. He leant towards her and said, “I am very busy you know and must hurry around to all the children before Christmas Eve is over. Your mother is sure to be very worried about you, so here is a ticket for the train to take you back home. “Maria gave Santa Claus a big hug and thanked him again for the present. Then she ran to the station and caught the first train home. She had the compartment to herself and sat looking through the window at the dark and silent snow-covered landscape passing by.

She thought of Santa Claus, of the trip in his sleigh and the beautiful glass ball he had given her. As she thought of the glass ball she took it out of her pocket. Now she had time to study it properly. She looked closely at the red house with its cosy little window and white painted door. The snowflakes lay still on the ground and roof, but if she shook it the snow would whirl around and slowly fall again. Maria began to feel very tired. The train chuffed steadily along the tracks “clickety clack, clickety clack.” Marias eyelids slowly closed. She was looking at the little house as she fell asleep. In her dream she could see her mother inside it.

Then she became part of the dream. Maria and her mother lived in the little red house. Her mother opened a window to shake a rug while she whistled and sang happily. Maria dreamt she had a dolls pram which she pushed along the pavement. At that moment the glass ball slipped out of her hand and crashed to the floor. Maria woke with a start. Pieces of glass lay in a pool of water. The snowflakes were scattered about and in the middle of it all lay the little red house.

Maria was heartbroken when she saw what had happened. She had actually broken Santa Claus’ magic gift! She tried to find all the pieces and put them together again, but it was no use. Maria fell on her knees by the broken glass ball and cried, her tears falling on the little house – drip, drip, drip. She picked up the house and pressed it close to her cheek. Then she saw something strange. Where the house had lain was a key, not a toy key, but a real big door key. Carefully she picked it up. It felt cold and heavy in her hand. She didn’t understand the significance of the key so she continued to weep over the broken magic ball.

The closer she came to the town, the road and the cardboard boxes where she and her mother lived, the more she despaired. She thought of all the thousands of useful things they needed, one of which she could have wished for by shaking the glass ball, but now it was too late. The glass ball was broken and they must continue living in their boxes as before, freeze at night and eat what they could find in the dustbins.

But when she arrived home something very strange had happened. On the spot where their cardboard boxes normally stood was a small red house. It looked exactly like the little house in the glass ball, but this was a real house to live in. Her mother stood outside and was very pleased to see her little girl again. She hugged her so tightly that it almost hurt. “My darling little Maria are you all right?”

Maria dried her tears and told her mother about Santa Claus, his book of names and about the magic ball which she had dropped and broken on the train. Her mother told her of how she had gone for a walk looking for food, and found the red house when she returned. She was wondering who owned it, because no one had moved in. The annoying thing about it was that all their belongings, including the packing cases lay underneath it, so now they had absolutely nothing at all, and that on Christmas Eve of all things. Maria looked closely at the house and remarked: “It looks exactly like the little red house in the glass ball.” Then she remembered the key she had found and took it out of her pocket. “Do you know something, Mummy, when I picked up the little house I found this key lying underneath it – do you think it fits?”

Her mother took the key and inspected it closely. Without a word she stepped up to the white door and put the key in the lock. She turned it slowly and with a joyful little “click” the door opened. They entered the house cautiously side by side, and there in the hall stood a dolls pram complete with doll – exactly like the one she had dreamed about. Then Maria understood what had happened. Her dream on the train had come true at the same moment the glass ball had broken and shown her the key. It was her house! Her wish had been granted exactly as Santa Claus had promised.

In that way Maria and her mother got a real house to live in, and Santa Claus came with presents every Christmas. He always gave Maria an extra big hug because he never forgot how surprised and pleased he had been to find her in his sleigh on that Christmas Eve.

I am Grateful!  How are You?


Story Day 6 — The Santa Within Me

Once again…. I was able to find an online version of a story I’ve had in my files for a long time.  I figured since it had once been featured in Reader’s Digest in 1979 there might be a good chance I’d find it!  Yeah for the internet!

It’s another kind of long one, but not bad….  but a great story!  I know there a lot of people out there that have Santa within them!  How I wish more people could do things like this!

Here it is….. Enjoy!

-vintage-christmas-card-of-santa-claus-delivering-gifts-to-two-girlsThe Santa Within Me
by Jay Frankston

There’s nothing so beautiful as a child’s dream of Santa Claus. I know; I often had that dream. But, I am Jewish and my parents didn’t celebrate Christmas. It was everyone else’s holiday – a big party I wasn’t invited to – and I felt left out. It wasn’t toys I yearned for; it was Santa Claus and a Christmas tree. So when I got married and had kids, I decided to make up for what I’d missed.

I started with a seven-foot tree, all decked out with lights and tinsel. The year was 1956, and we were living in New York City. My daughter Claire was only two, but her eyes sparkled as she smiled at the tree. It gave off warmth that filled every corner of our home. I Put a Star of David on top to soothe those whose Jewish feelings were disturbed by the display. And, it warmed my heart to see the glitter, because now the party was at my house EVERYONE was invited.

But, something was missing, something big and round and jolly, with jingle bells, and Ho! Ho! Ho! So I bought a bright, red cloth and my wife made me a costume. Inflatable pillows filled out my skinny frame. A Santa mask, complete with whiskers and flowing white hair, made me look genuine enough to live up to a child’s dream of old St. Nick.

When I tried on the costume and looked in the mirror, there he was, big as life, the Santa of my childhood. I felt myself becoming Santa. I leaned back and pushed out my pillow stomach. My voice got deeper and richer. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

Claire was almost four and Danny not yet one when Santa first came to our house. They stood in awe and I saw in their eyes the fantasy and magic of what I had become. Santa was special. He was the personification of kindness and gentleness. He was a little scary, too.

For two years I played Santa for my children, to their fright and delight, and to my total enjoyment. And, when the third year rolled around, the Santa in me had grown into a personality of his own and he needed more room So, I sought to accommodate him by letting him do his thing for other children.

One day, late in November, I saw this pretty little girl trying to reach a mailbox slot, and saying, “Mommy, are you sure Santa will get my letter?” My mind began to whirl. All those children who wrote to Santa Claus, whatever becomes of their letters? A phone call to the postal service answered my question. The dead-letter office stored the thousands of letter in huge sacks.

The Santa in me went Ho! Ho! Ho! and we headed to the post office. As I began rummaging through the letters, I became a little flustered at the demands and greed of so many spoiled children. Most of the letters were gimme, gimme, gimme letters. But, the Santa in me heard a voice from inside the mail sack, and I continued searching until I came upon one letter that jarred me.

Dear Santa, I am an 11-year-old girl, and I have two little brothers and a baby sister. My father died last year, and my mother is sick. I know there are many who are poorer than we are and I want nothing for myself, but could you send us a blanket ’cause Mommy’s cold at night. It was signed Suzy.

A chill went up my spine and the Santa in me cried, “I hear you Suzy.

I dug deeper into those sacks and came up with another eight such letters, all calling out from the depths of poverty. I took them with me and went straight to the Western Union office and sent each child a telegram: Got your letter. Will be at your house. Wait for me. Santa.

I knew I could not possibly fill all the needs of these children, but if I could bring them hope, if I could make them feel that their cries did not go unheard… I budgeted $150 and went out and bought presents. On Christmas day, my wife drove me around. It had snowed graciously the night before, and the streets were thick with fresh powder.

My first call took me to the outskirts of the city. The letter from Peter Barski had read:
Dear Santa, I am ten years old and I am an only child. I’m not sad because I’m poor, but because I’m lonely. I know you have many people to see and you probably have no time for me. So, I don’t ask you to come to my house or bring anything. But, could you send me a letter so I know know you exist?

Dear Peter, my telegram began, not only do I exist, but I’ll be there on Christmas Day. Wait for me.

Peter’s house was wedged between two tall buildings. Its roof was of corrugated metal and it was more of a shack than a house. With a bag of toys slung over my shoulder, I walked up the steps and knocked. A heavyset man opened the door.

He said a word in Polish and his hand went to his face. “Please,” he stuttered. “The boy… at Mass. I go get him. Please wait.” He threw on a coat and, assured that I would wait, ran down the street.

I stood there in front of the house, feeling good. Then, across the street, I noticed another shack; through the window I could see little back faces peering at me, and tiny hands waving. The door opened shyly and some voices called out, “Hi ya, Santa.”

I Ho! Ho! Hoed! my way over there, and a woman asked if I’d come in, and I did. Inside were five kids from one to seven years old. I spoke to them of Santa and the spirit of love, which is the spirit of Christmas. The, seeing the torn Christmas wrappings, I asked if they liked what Santa had brought them. Each thanked me – for the woolen socks, the sweater, and the warm underwear.

“Didn’t I bring you any toys?” They shook their heads sadly. “Ho! Ho! Ho! I slipped up.” said I, “We’ll have to fix that.”

Knowing that we had extra toys in the car, I gave each child a toy. There was joy and laughter, but when Santa got ready to leave, I noticed one girl crying. I bent down and asked her, “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, Santa,” she sobbed, “I’m so happy.” And the tears rolled from my eyes under the rubber mask.

As I stepped out on the street, “Panie, Panie, Prosze…? Sir, sir, please,” I heard Mr. Barski say across the way.

Peter just stood there and looked as Santa walked into the house. “You came,” he said. “I wrote and… and you came.”

When he recovered, I spoke with him about loneliness and friendship, and gave him a chemistry set and a basketball. He thanked me profusely, and his mother asked something of her husband in Polish. My parents were Polish, so I speak a little and understand a lot. “From the North Pole,” I said in Polish.

She looked at me with astonishment. “You speak Polish?”

“Of course,” I said. “Santa speaks all languages.” And I left them in joy and wonder.

The following year, when the momentum of Christmas began to build, I felt a stirring and I knew that the Santa within me was back. So I returned to the post office and to those heartbreaking letters. I enjoyed playing Santa so much that I did it the next year and the next. Then, at age ten, Claire handed me a poem that began:

I know that Santa’s make-believe
But I still love him so
‘Cause he’m my daddy
Ho! Ho! Ho!

So, now she knew. I took her to the basement where the toys were and let her rummage through Santa’s shop, ogling at the the imposing array. She read the letters and cried with me and became a true Santa’s helper, sorting and wrapping the toys in preparation for my rounds.

I made them for 12 years, listening for the cries of children muffled in unopened envelopes, answering the call of as many as I could – frustrated at not being able to answer them all.

As time went on, word got out about Santa Claus and me, and manufacturers sent me cartons of toys. Having started with 20 children, I had wound up with 120, door to door, from one end of New York City to the other, from Christmas Eve through Christmas Day.

On my last call a few years ago, I knew there were four children in the family and I came prepared. The house was small and sparsely furnished. The kids had been waiting all day, staring at the telegram and repeating to their skeptical mother, “He’ll come, Mommy, he’ll come.”

As I rang the bell, the door swung open and they all reach for my hands and hold on. “Hi ya, Santa. We just knew you’s come.” And these poor kids were beaming with happiness and laughter.

I took each of them on my lap and told stories of joy, hope and waiting, and gave them each a toy. All the while there’s this fifth child standing the the corner, a cute girl with blond hair and blue eyes.

I turned to her and said, “You’re not part of this family, are you?’

She shook her head sadly and whispered, “No.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.


“How old are you?”


“Come, sit on my lap.” She hesitated, but them came over. “Did you get any toys for Christmas? I asked.

“No.” she said.

I took out a big, beautiful doll. “Do you want this doll?”

“No,” she said, and leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’m Jewish.”

I nudged her and whispered back, “I’m Jewish, too.” Lisa grinned from ear to ear. She took the doll I had handed her, hugged it, and ran out of the room.

I don’t know which of us was happier – Lisa or the Santa in me.

Merry Christmas, my friends…

I am Grateful!  How are You?

Another’s Happiness

Today is a day for me to be grateful for other people’s happiness.

It started with me attending the wedding of a friend I worked with in the temple.  Her husband passed away a year or so ago.  That’s never an easy thing…. to lose a spouse.  Yet she pulled through.

Sometimes our lives are lead in directions that we don’t understand…. both the sorrowful and the good.  Chrie was blessed enough to meet someone else whom she had a lot in common, and today was married to that man.  It was such a joy to see the happiness in her face!  You could see that she knew she would have a companion to share the rest of her life with now.  She truly looked radiant.  What a blessing to witness that.

Tonight I got to sing with my friends again.  One of my favorite things to do.  It was fun to be a part of bringing happiness to others in that way.  This one was not for an Assisted Living center like the other night was…. this one was for Nila’s Ward…. the people she goes to church with.  It’s great to look out into the room and see smiling faces….. including my cute niece who came to the show.  She lives in Nila’s ward and I told her she should come…. so she did.  And I believe she enjoyed it!  More happiness!

I was grateful that I got a chance to talk to some friends that I knew in that ward tonight.  I found out that he had been taking this wonderful stuff I work with called ASEA and has seen major improvements in his health.  To the point, as he described it…. on a scale from 1-10, 10 being the worst…  he used to be at a 9 or 9.5 in pain and stiffness and now he says he’s at a 2 or lower all the time.  He was so happy for the changes he had seen over the year and I was happy to see more proof that it works!

Then…. one of the hardest things for me to do tonight was to be happy for someone else who was lucky enough to get cast in a show that I really wanted to be a part of.  I truly was happy for her…. honestly.  I’ve seen her on stage before and I know she will do a fabulous job.  I would even like to go see her play the part.  But in that happiness, comes a little disappointment that I won’t get to share the role with her, since the show is double cast….  someone else will be doing that.  And I can be happy for them…. though I may not even know them.  A little harder to be happy for them…. but none the less I can be happy!

I mean… really…. what are my choices?  It does me no good to be gloomy about it.  I try very hard to believe that there is something else I’m suppose to be doing during that time frame, so it’s better not to be doing a show right now.  I have to admit though…. when it has happened to me in the past… sometimes I don’t think I ever figured out what that reason was….  but life goes on!  It’s what we chose to make it.  Perhaps there really was something I was needed for that I just didn’t recognize at the time.

Right now I choose to be happy.  Happy for my friends who did get cast.  Happy that I was able to bring joy into others lives by entertaining them.  Happy to see someone’s health dramatically improving.  Happy for my friend who is getting a second chance to spend the rest of her life with someone new.  Happy for me because now I get to discover what it is I need to be focusing on right now!  After all….. another person’s happiness really does make me happy!

I am Grateful!  How are You?

Here’s one of my very favorite quotes about Happiness.  I learned it many years ago and have never forgotten it:

Happiness is like Jam…. you can’t spread even a little without getting some on yourself!

Disciplining with Love

I witnessed today…. mostly by hearing I might add….. an extremely patient young Mother who lovingly disciplined her children.

I was laying out at the pool this morning and this young family was having a great time.  Now…. don’t get me wrong when I use the term discipline…. it’s not like her kids were being terrors.  They were just being kids!  Kids have a tendency to tease each other or do some things that parents don’t approve of…. especially around the pool.

This young Mom was as soft spoken as anyone I’ve heard when she talked to her children.  Not that she whispered….. she just never raised her voice and remained calm, no matter the situation.  Though there was a little reprimanding involved, she was very loving and calm about it…. which as studies show…. help the kids to remain calm.

In Doctrine and Covenants 121:43 it states:  “Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy”

I really thought of her as an example to this scripture as I listened to what went on around me.  I wasn’t ‘watching’ because I was basking in the sun with my eyes closed….. but I could hear it all.  The Father was very loving too.  It was just so pleasant to see a young family handling everything it this way.

Of course, it made me remember that I wasn’t very good at that sort of thing as a young Mom.  I know I can’t change the past…. but I can learn from examples and work to improve my relationship with future Grand children.  Perhaps, some would say, that patience comes with age….. that may be partly true….  but the Mom I heard today has learned it at a young age.

How much of how we discipline our children is a result of how we were raised?  Personally, I think it’s a lot.  I’m not putting my parents down at all….. it’s not like I remember shouting and screaming and beating or anything…. but I do remember some pretty harsh discipline at times.  I attribute that to the way they were raised.  Those kinds of things are cyclical.

I realize there are times when disciplining with love can be very hard.  But I think it’s an important concept to learn.  The sooner, the better.  It’s never too late to learn to do anything with more love in your intention!

I’m grateful for the example of this young family today.  Grateful for the reminder that things can be handled in a calm manner.  Grateful to her for not making it an uncomfortable situation to be around…… but a loving learning one instead!  We need more parents like them!

I am Grateful!  How are you?

Joy In The Journey

What a shame it would be to look back and find out what we missed along the way because we were just too ‘busy’.   How many times have you heard of a Father in a family who missed out on the most important things in his children’s’ lives because he was so busy making a living he forgot to live!  ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’ comes to mind!

We need to ‘Stop and Smell the Roses” along the way…… those sharp curves in the road are much safer taken at a slower speed!  The scenery is as important as the destination!  We were meant to enjoy life….. as well as succeed at it.  But if our focus is always on the top of the ladder….. what are we missing on the way up?  Who’s window is open with an invitation to stop in and visit, yet we miss it because we are too focused on that top rung?  People are put in our pathway for a reason, but often we are so busy trying to figure out what’s next, that we don’t notice the gift that God sent!

Slowing down and enjoying the journey is important.  Not at the expense of losing motivation to continue to improve ourselves….. but, be  OPEN ….. to the possibilities that are in front of you!  You may be being guided to where you are needed.  Besides….if you don’t slow down and notice the ‘now’…. live in the moment…. you will delay your happiness!

We can’t focus on what life will be like “when” or we truly miss the journey.  We are meant to enjoy the journey!

“Why delay your happiness?”

It’s not unusual for us to postpone our pleasures and happiness, hoping for a better tomorrow.

Do you place demands on your happiness like, “I’ll be happy when I lose 10 pounds,” “I’ll be happy when I get a new job or new car,” “I’ll be happy when I find the love of my life?”

Why put off your happiness until Friday night or Sunday morning or this summer or next winter? The real fun in life is the journey – and enjoying the present moment.

If you find yourself placing demands on your happiness, stop! You have a right to enjoy life, right here, right now! As you do, you’ll be amazed by the joy of daily life.   from Meditations for Women

It’s not always easy to slow down and pay attention to the now.  We are often overwhelmed with so many things we need to do that we forget to watch the dandelions grow.  You can only live this day once, so try and live it fully!

I’m grateful for my quest to find joy in the journey!  This blog is helping me to do that, by noticing what I’m grateful for.  Gratitude brings you joy!  Look for joy in your journey with gratitude in your heart!

I am Grateful!  How are you?

I tried to find the lyrics to the song ‘Joy In the Journey’ ….but I couldn’t find them (I could transcribe them…)…but I thought you might enjoy “listening”.  The video isn’t much to see…. but the words are great.

Being Positive

“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.” — Buddha

My friend just made a post of FB that made me remember the “Glad Game” from Pollyanna.  I started thinking about what a great idea that would be for all of us to do… and it made me grateful for the idea!  A positive attitude can make such a HUGE difference!

It’s funny….. there are millions of things to be grateful for….. but because I’ve made a commitment to post one a day…. I seem to be struggling on what to pick!  It has to be something I feel I can ‘expound’ on.  Certain things I’m waiting for a particular day to post…. (since I have a whole year)…. but Shelly’s post on FB totally made me start thinking about turning the things around that frustrate us and realize how lucky we are to have what we have….. even if it’s not exactly what we think we need at the moment.

Heaven only knows that we are so blessed in this country!  We just seem to take it for granted and we forget to be thankful for things that sometimes may seem annoying!  For instance….. what if you had a flat tire on the freeway today??  Why on earth would you be grateful for that????  Well…. you really could find a lot of reasons.  It may not apply to every situation and sometimes you may never really know…. but what if having that flat tire made you NOT be at a certain intersection at the exact same time someone ran a red light?  (God has Angels watching over me…..)  I mean…. you may never know that…. but you really can find something positive in every situation if you try hard enough.   Maybe the person that stops to help you  with that flat turns out to be a really important person in your life and you may have never met  them had you not had a flat tire!!

There’s an old song that goes: Accentuate the Positive, Eliminate the Negative, Latch on to the affirmative, Don’t mess with Mr. In-between…. I think that’s pretty good advice.  As the quote  at the beginning of my post states….. ‘at least you didn’t die…. so let’s all be thankful’

There’s a lesson to be learned at every turn if only we are open to looking for it.  So here’s my challenge to you…. think back on something that happened today or even this week that you were upset about and see if you can’t find the good in it!  Try playing the ‘glad game’!

I am Grateful!  How are you?