 |
 |
 |
||||||||||||
|
Welcome to GoodStoryADay GoodStoryADay Word: Welcome to GoodStoryADay #5 - Teens GoodStoryADay
Quote: Eyes
As the sun stretches its
arms and peaks I awake, The heat quickly rises. As I move about in this foreign
land, The sweat my body creates
to cool my skin Looking out over the landscape
To my loving wife, Joy SSG Steven Parker Wheeler
U.S. Army, B Co 2/325 US AIR 82nd ABN Div Unit #96930
GoodStoryADay
Word: Welcome to GoodStoryADay #10 - Teens GoodStoryADay
Quote: Eyes in the Darkness
The heat of the African sun had subsided and I was tired at the end of a long day, working as a game ranger on a private reserve in South Africa. The few guests we had in camp at the time had gone to bed and I was doing the rounds to make sure that everything was in order. I went to my room and removed the holster belt for my revolver, a .44 magnum that had been hurting me all day. It dug into my hip where I had cut myself on a piece of wire, so I took it off and put it on the bed. I picked up my rifle, slung the strap over my shoulder and walked out onto the grass by the swimming pool to enjoy a little of the night. Looking out over the bush, it was dark and only the sounds gave any idea of what was out there. The sky was clear and the moon had long gone. I could hear a herd of impala in the tall grass nearby and I realized they must have been waiting for me to leave, so they could resume their nighttime grazing on the green lawns by the pool. A path led to the dry riverbed at the far side of the clearing. It was about a ten-minute walk and I had not intended to go all the way, but somehow I became caught up in the night. The Southern Cross was brilliant in the sky and as soon as my eyes adjusted, I could see from the light of the stars. The river was lined with trees, most having lost their leaves for the winter. They looked stark against the backdrop of the night sky. I put my rifle down next to me and sat on the trunk of an old dead tree, enjoying the peace and quiet. It felt as though I was becoming a part of the night. A call of nature prompted me to move, so I got up and wandered beyond the big tree that stood between the edge of the riverbank and me. The dry leaves crackled beneath my feet as I relieved myself onto the sand below. Finished, I turned and as I did so, a movement caught my eye. Something was in the tree. I froze and blinked, as I tried to focus on the branches to see what it was that had attracted my attention. It was then that I thought I saw a leopard, a silhouette blended into the lowest branch of the tree. The tree I had moments before walked under, and the tree which stood between my rifle and me. I felt my heart begin to thump in my chest and I consciously made an effort to stop the emotion. The last thing I needed was the smell of adrenaline wafting on the night breeze. The big cat looked as though it was a part of the tree, and I began to have second thoughts as to whether or not it really was a leopard in the darkness. Then his tail moved and I knew I had a problem. My rifle was only sixty feet away, but the leopard was directly in between-on a branch ten feet off the ground-and waiting. I could not think of anything else to do besides staying still, so I froze in that exact position and waited. At times my breathing seemed so loud that I tried to slow it down. I contemplated crouching, trying to blend into the ground, but he knew where I was and if he wanted to wait, then so would I. After ten minutes I could feel my arms and the soles of my feet begin to ache. We were stuck in a game of wills. He who moves loses, but if I lose-I die. In the distance I could hear the sound of baboons screeching, a powerful and desperate noise. I knew that it was more than likely the presence of a leopard that made them react with such vigor. Twenty minutes and nothing had changed, except for the millions of thoughts going through my brain like an endless stream. I started to concentrate on them, picking out the positives and ignoring the gory negatives. It was hard at first, as the idea of a bloody ending was not easy to ignore; but the more I concentrated on the fact that I was all right and the leopard would not attack, the more it became the predominant thought in my mind. For perhaps two hours we were immobile, staring at one another. My breathing had quieted, but my mouth was dry and it seemed as though the standoff could go on forever. The baboons had stopped their noise and the night was still. He who gives up loses. The very idea of it gave me the strength to stay exactly as I was, in total silence, and wait. Perhaps with the dawn the big cat would go away. I spent some of the time scanning the ground
for a stout piece of wood nearby, or some other object to at least attempt
to protect myself with, but except for a few dry little twigs, there
was nothing. I tried to remember what Ben, my African mentor, had told
me about leopards, but the only thing I could remember was him saying
that if a leopard wanted me, then I would more than likely not know
about it until the last instant-and by then it would be too late. Lights from a vehicle arriving in the camp swept through the darkness. Bright and penetrating, the strong beams of the Land Rover's multiple spotlights lit the night, as it made the last turn to enter the camp. Like a lighthouse, the beam hurtled towards us from one side, getting brighter until it shone directly at us. It was dazzling in its brilliance, my eyes having become so accustomed to the dark. I quickly closed my eyes to stop any further damage to my night vision and, as I did so, I remembered how on occasions I had seen a leopard in the spotlight. The glare from two eyes was instantly changed to one, as he closed one eye to protect it from the light, while keeping the other open to see by-so I forced myself to open one eye when the light was still upon me. The vehicle completed its turn and as the night rushed back to fill the void, I switched eyes. It was then that he made his move, as I expected he might. He raised his body off the branch and turned in my direction. Oh no, I thought to myself, it is not going to end like this. My body was stiff and sore from being immobile for so long and it was only in my mind that I could ready myself for the attack. My heart started beating faster, an instinctive reaction to get ready for a fight for my life. In slow motion the leopard dipped his head, bent his front legs and dropped silently out of the tree. As he landed on the ground, I readied for the next leap to be in my direction. From that distance his feet would have to touch the ground only once and he would be close enough for a last leap to my throat. I braced my body as best I could and hoped. In my mind I was still trying to contain the positive thoughts that I had been repeating to myself, but in the face of such a threat, it was hard not to fall into the trap of negativity and fear. In one fluid movement, he turned and disappeared into the thin bush without a sound. Relief swept over me, but I knew it was not over yet. That might be his way of coming back from behind, to take me when I least expected it. I tried to move towards my rifle, but I was not sure my legs would work, so I slowly stood in an upright position first and then tried putting one foot gently forward. Then the other, then the other, trying to move as fast as I could, all the while being aware of what was going on around and behind me. The sixty feet I had to cover seemed to have stretched itself, and at any moment I half expected to see a blur out of the corner of my eye. I moved as fast as I could, but at the same time I wanted to keep my movements natural, so as not to look like a lame duck, an easy prey. The feel of the cold barrel on my palms was most welcome. I chambered a round into the breech and looked back in the direction the leopard had gone, but the night was still. Even the crickets were silent. Not wanting to hang around there any longer I started walking back to the camp and had not gone but a couple of paces when I heard a sound behind me. I spun around expecting to see at least something, but the only sight that greeted me was that of a dark and empty night. Several times I heard the same noise close behind. A dry leaf cracking, or a small twig being stepped on, and each time I turned, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my scalp tightened. Although I could see nothing, I knew that something was following me. Resisting the urge to run, the walk back seemed a lot longer than the walk there. I turned my head and body around as far as I could, and walked almost sideways as I scanned the bush behind. It was a great relief once again to be on the green grass by the swimming pool, well in the open where I could not be stalked. I went into the main building and there on the table was a powerful flashlight. Then, filled with the bravery that comes from having both a gun and a light, I walked out onto the edge of the bush and began to shine the light into the darkness. The beam was strong and I swept it from side to side, but nothing reflected back at me. I was about to give up and go to bed, when I noticed a pair of eyes about two hundred feet away on the outer edge of the clearing. As I put the beam back on the same spot-there was only one eye to be seen. I moved the light away for an instant and the eye was gone. I never did see it again. Sometimes it takes an extreme situation to realize the power of a thought. In this instance I knew for sure that if I had run or even shown any signs of fear, this story would certainly never have been told. It is our thoughts that control our actions and our actions control the outcome of events in our lives. Lucky Mike
GoodStoryADay Word: Welcome to GoodStoryADay #40 - Kids GoodStoryADay
Quote: The Great Fried Egg Adventure
I was out playing with my friends one
super-duper-hot Texas day. We were about 12-years-old. It was so hot
that you could see the heat radiating off the sidewalk in blurry waves.
Even though we had lived in Houston our whole lives, the heat was so
bad that even we complained about it!
"It's so hot, you can fry an egg on the sidewalk!" I groaned aloud. I hated the heat. My sister jumped to her feet and shouted to our friends sitting in the shade of a huge oak tree in our front yard, "Hey Ya'll! Let's fry an egg on the sidewalk!" There was definitely nothing else to do in that danged heat, so we jumped to our feet, dashed inside the house, and brought out an egg. After arguing over how we were going to execute our plan, we carefully cracked it and emptied its contents onto the sidewalk. The sun bore down on it and it actually cooked. We couldn't believe it! In our excitement, we started talking about what a great news story our "sidewalk-fried egg" would make. "Can't you just see the weather lady talking about it on TV?" I asked. It was a neat idea, but how would we get a news crew to come over to our house, and would they even believe us? I was usually the one in our little group who was dared to do whatever nobody else had the guts to do. And, if it was legal, didn't hurt anyone, or wasn't too dangerous, I was always up for the challenge! So, I went to the phone and started calling the TV stations in town, telling each receptionist our story of frying the egg on the sidewalk. Each time, she would connect me to the newsroom and I had to explain the story all over again to a new person who seemed to be too rushed to talk to me. All it takes is one TV station to get interested, however, and when I called the NBC station we hit the jackpot. The reporter kept asking, "Really? You REALLY fried an egg on the sidewalk?" I kept assuring him that it was true. He told me to keep my friends there, and not let a dog or anyone else take the egg, and that he'd send a crew right over. It seemed to take forever, but the white van with the NBC logo finally pulled up in front of our house. The cameraman took several close ups of our fried egg, shaking his head in disbelief. He finally pointed the camera at us while the reporter asked how we fried the egg, what gave us the idea, and other such questions. We were having a blast! Here we were, a group of kids, and we had the adults eating out of our hands for a good news story. What a day! We turned a big negative - the scorching heat - into a big positive. What started as a hot, boring day turned into a really fun day. We learned how to get a story on the news, and we brought a smile to everyone watching the story on TV. The best part came days later, when people we didn't even know would point to us and say, "Hey, aren't you those kids who fried the egg on the sidewalk?"
GoodStoryADay Word: Welcome to GoodStoryADay #45 - Kids GoodStoryADay
Quote: Be Welcoming!
Have you ever gone to a new school? Or have you changed classes in the middle of the semester? It can be scary and hard to fit in when you are the new kid. In the fourth grade, I changed schools in the middle of the spring semester. The school year was almost over and neither the new teacher nor the students welcomed me with open arms. I felt like an outsider and changed from someone who loved school to someone who didn't. The result was that my grades plummeted. It was a relief when the semester came to a close. All summer long I dreaded going back to school. When the first day of class arrived that fall, I was a very timid ten-year-old opening the classroom door and looking around at a room full of strangers. Then a miracle happened. A little girl smiled and waved and said, "Sit next to me!" Her one gesture of welcome turned everything around for me. School was OK after all. Her four words, "Sit next to me," changed my whole experience of the new school. Written by Shar McBee
GoodStoryADay Word: Welcome to GoodStoryADay #85 - Tots GoodStoryADay
Quote: Good Words in
Celebration of "Sunny"
GOOD WORDS PUT SMILES UPON
THE LIPS GOOD WORDS DANCE AROUND THE
ROOM GOOD WORDS JUMP UP 'N ALL
DAY, T'IS TRUE, AS IF A MAGICAL FLUTE, THEY
GO LIKE SO . . . AND RHYME IN TIME TO A DRUMMER"S
GOOD WORDS RING AS GOOD KIDS
SING. . . CHORUS: TOOTERLY TOOT TOOTERLY TA
TOOT RUMMERLY TER-TUMERLY TA TUNE RING-A-LING, A RING-A-LING,
A RING ALL MORNING, ALL NIGHT, ALL
NOON RING-A-LING, A RING-A-LING,
A RING TOOTERLY TOOT TOOTERLY TA
TOOT TOOTERLY TOOT TOOTERLY TA
TOOT Written by Joycebelle
GoodStoryADay
Word: Welcome to GoodStoryADay #220 - Tots GoodStoryADay Quote: Twilight Gnomes
A path leads from our back porch to a tiny stream at the bottom of the hill on which we live. Sometimes, when night is on its way but hasn't yet reached our woods, I take my daughter down to the babbling waters and show her where the twilight gnomes play. Long ago, before the son of Adam walked the earth and claimed the land for his own, I tell her as we crouch as quietly behind a clump of ferns, the dwarves of the granite in our part of the mountain married the daughters of the mountain water, the sprites of the riverbed. Their joining is written in the pebbles and stones that line the beds of all the streams in this forest. The forest was gigantic then, I explain, as we watch the shades of night usurping the waning light. It spread over miles and miles, covering more land than any city ever has. "Was there ever such a big thing, Daddy?" she asks in a whisper. "Oh, yes," I whisper back. In her eyes, I can see her drawing imaginary pictures to account for this new information. I tell her that the dwarves of the granite were dark dwellers and the daughters of the water were sun worshippers, and this made for problems. The dwarves loved the beautiful sprites, and they would come out into the full sun just to be near them, just to win a smile or a kiss. But the bright rays of the sun were too much and the dwarves began to die off. Their deaths caused such grieving among the sprites that soon the woods were filled with none of the old joy, only of haunting songs of longing - lonely, lonely longing. "Why did they have to die, Daddy?" "Ah, that's what's so sad, my love.
They didn't really need to die at all." "Why was there rejoicing, Daddy?" "Because, my little one, they all knew, the moment they met, that they had found a solution. The evening." By day the dwarves would mine and the sprites play. In the evening, they would meet to dance and sing in the pale light of the sun and moon. By night, they would each rest. And so it was that the twilight gnomes were born. Half sprite, half dwarf, they could live both in the dark and in the light. But they never chose to. They saw the border between day to night as sacred, and that became the only time they emerged. So the evening became the kingdom of the twilight gnomes. Over time the sprites and dwarves died away, for every age must come to an end. But if you come down to the stream at just the right time, on just the right night, you can hear the twilight gnomes at play on the banks of the water. Their laughter floats on the air like fireflies and their games can be seen through the eyes of a child. "Why only the eyes of a child, Daddy?" Because it's the wonder in the eye of child that reveals what's hidden to the adult. Sometimes when the light is just right,
and the warm summer air holds a certain fragrance of lilacs and jasmine,
I take my daughter down to the stream to listen to the twilight gnomes.
Her gasps and giggles at the games are the same ones I made, when I
was a little boy and my father would take me down to this stream and
tell me of the twilight gnomes. He would sit and listen to me for hours. "I'm growing young again," he would always say and hug me tight. "Shhh," I would say, "you'll scare them away." And he would cover his mouth, smile and just watch me watch the twilight gnomes play. Written by J. Gordon
GoodStoryADay Word: Welcome to GoodStoryADay #301 - Tots GoodStoryADay Quote: Miles Apart and One in Heart
The night sky wasn't
always so bright, I thought to myself as I lay on the hard teak deck
and stared at the universe above. Orion's belt filled its place in the
sky, so close I could almost hold it in my hand, yet so far that only
in my mind could I ever reach it. Written by Lucky Mike
GoodStoryADay Word: Welcome to GoodStoryADay #310 - Kids GoodStoryADay Quote: Do Not Let Others Stop Your Dreams! As a young child, I lived in Indonesia with my family and attended Chinese school. When I was six-years-old, the Chinese school was abolished due to political turbulence. I was sent to schools in China and Hong Kong to learn Chinese literature and to keep Feng Shui, my family's centuries-old heritage, alive with the hope that the secrets would be passed down to the next generation. My departure was meant to be a short-term arrangement but it lasted for many years. Fortunately, my parents were able to come see me from time-to-time while I was in Hong Kong. I essentially brought myself up from childhood into my teenage years, but during all that time my mother acted as my long-distance Life Coach. Her stories of wisdom kept me on track during this time of sadness in my life. When, during my childhood in foreign lands, I could not seem to please anyone, my mother's stories would come up in my mind and remind me of what I should do. When I was just a little girl, Mother told me this story of "an old man, a boy, and a donkey." I would like to share her wisdom with you. It helped me find comfort in difficult times. I hope it will help you, too! An old man, a boy, and a donkey
Written by Kwai Lan
Chan-Cook
Enriching
the World: one child, one story, one day at a time.
|
|
||||||||||||
 |
|
 |
||||||||||||
