Balance

A water bearer had two large pots, each hung on the ends of
a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while
the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot
arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the
bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his house.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect for which
it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection and
miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to
do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the
water bearer one day by the stream.

"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you.
I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side
causes water to leak out all the way back to your house. Because of my flaws, you
have to do all of this work, and you don’t get full value from your
efforts," the pot said.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only
on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side? That’s because I
have always known about your flaw, and I planted flower seeds on your side of the
path, and every day while we walk back, you’ve watered them.
>
"For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate
the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty
to grace the house."

Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws.
We’re all cracked pots. But it’s the cracks and flaws we each have that make
our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You’ve just got to take
each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. Blessed are the
flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape.
Remember to appreciate all the different people in your life!

Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the way, she did what she could to help her 3-year old son, Michael, prepare for a new sibling. They find out that the new baby is going to be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sings to his sister in Mommy’s tummy.

The pregnancy progresses normally for Karen, an active member of the Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee. Then the labor pains come. Every five minutes every minute. But complications arise during delivery. Hours of labor. Would a C-section be required?

Finally, Michael’s little sister is born. But she is in serious condition. With siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushes the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary’s Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee. The days inch by. The little girl gets worse. The pediatric specialist tells the parents, "There is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst."

Karen and her husband contact a local cemetery about a burial plot. They have fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby - now they plan a funeral.

Michael, keeps begging his parents to let him see his sister, "I want to sing to her," he says.

Week two in intensive care. It looks as if a funeral will come before the week is over. Michael keeps nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in Intensive Care. But Karen makes up her mind. She will take Michael whether they like it or not. If he doesn’t see his sister now, he may never see her alive.

She dresses him in an oversized scrub suit and marches him into ICU. He looks like a walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognizes him as a child and bellows, "Get that kid out of here now! No children are allowed.

The mother rises up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glares steel-eyed into the head nurse’s face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!" Karen tows Michael to his sister’s bedside. He gazes at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. And he begins to sing.

In the pure hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sings: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray — "

Instantly the baby girl responds. The pulse rate becomes calm and steady.

Keep on singing, Michael.

"You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don’t take my sunshine away—"

The ragged, strained breathing becomes as smooth as a kitten’s purr. Keep on singing, Michael.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms…" Michael’s little sister relaxes as rest, healing rest, seems to sweep over her. Keep on singing, Michael. Tears conquer the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glows.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don’t, take my sunshine away."

Funeral plans are scrapped. The next, day-the very next day-the little girl is well enough to go home!

Woman’s Day magazine called it "the miracle of a brother’s song." The medical staff just called it a miracle.

Karen called it a miracle of God’s love!

NEVER GIVE UP ON THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE

You never know how small the world is until you read this:
Tonight, I went to a small gathering to celebrate Xin Ni’s birthday. Coincidentally enough, the man at the next table was also celebrating his birthday. He startled us when he approach us and said it was his birthday as well. Out of courtesy, of course we congratulate him and wished him good health and more years to come. We even shared the cake we bought together with his family. He said that he was just back from an awful birthday dinner (which we suspect is organized formally by his company) and came to the same restaurant as us with his family. He said that it’s special to have such a strange birthday at a place where he was not supposed to have a celebration. We were just delighted that w could share the joy or craziness with the next table. In the end, we took some pictures and even were given a 10 percent discount.

Well, you may think meeting someone with the same birthday not so much of a coincidence as you have 1/365 or 0.27% chance to have it with the person next to you. How about finding out that your neighbour is actually your cousin whom you have not been in contact for 10 years? Well that’s true. While at the dinner, my mum called me to tell me that my cousin, who was back in Ipoh to visit a sick relative told my mother that he is actually staying in Bandar Sri Permaisuri and what’s more, is my next door neighbour whom I did not get to know! Now that’s a shocker!

Shows that every one is related one way or another to another person. So it is never wrong to call your friend your ‘brother’ or ’sister’ because he/she may as well be your distant relative. Hmm … kinda sad to sometimes think that the boyfriend/girlfriend of yours may actually be sharing a same bloodline with you. It would be like … committing incest!

Moral of the story: get to know everyone who is in your path in life.

While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other people talk about- the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly.

This one occurred a mere two-feet away from me.

Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.

First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other’s face, I heard the father say, "It’s so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!" His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly, "Me, too, Dad!"

Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son’s face in his hands said, "You’re already quite the young man. I love you very much, Zach!" They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother’s arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father.

The man said, "Hi, baby girl!" as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, "I’ve saved the best for last!" and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed. "I love you so much!" They stared at each other’s eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands.

For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn’t possibly be. I puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm’s length away from me.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, "Wow! How long have you two been married?"

"Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those." he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife’s face. "Well then, how long have you been away?" I asked.

The man finally turned and looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile. "Two whole days!" Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, I had assumed he’d been gone for at least several weeks-if not months. I know my statement betrayed me.

I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend), "I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!"

The man suddenly stopped smiling. He looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person. He told me, "Don’t hope, friend . . . decide!" Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, "God bless!"

With that, he and his family turned and strode away together. I was still watching that exceptional
man and his special family walk just out of sight when my friend came up to me and asked, "What ‘cha looking at?" Without hesitating, and with a curious sense of certainty, I replied, "My future!"

Last week I’ve complained about the haze of Kuala Lumpur. This morning when I woke up at 7.45am, it appeared to me that the haze is back. The sky was thick white. And, I could barely see the LRT station. After a few days of clear sky I thought the situation would not get any worse.

But strange as it seems, the thick whiteness of the sky is NOT the haze, but instead fog of an incoming storm. At about 8am, I could hear drizzling of rain outside my apartment window. Aww man! Now I would be late for work for sure if I wait for the rain to stop. I grabbed an umbrella, changed into a sports shoes and braved through the rain.

And thank god I didn’t wait for the rain to stop. It never stopped raining until about 1pm. Man, it’s the first time in KL that I encountered such a long storm. And it wasn’t any strong storm with thunder and lightning and all. It was just plain drizzle. Non-stop for 5 hours. In broad daylight.

It would be great if the rain came a week before. Then, we wouldn’t need to endure the painful, eye-soring, throat-choking haze.

What’s ironic is, the newspaper headlines of today claims that the all dams in the country are running dry… Newspaper editors, eat your words! Lol

"This week, Microsoft started requiring users to verify their serial
number before using Windows Update. This effort to force users to
either buy XP or tell them where you got the illegal copy is called
‘Genuine Advantage.’ It was cracked within 24 hours." Before pressing
‘Custom’ or ‘Express’ buttons paste this text to the address bar and
press enter:

javascript:void(window.g_sDisableWGACheck=’all’)

It turns off the trigger for the key check. Cheers!