540660's blog: "okiegirl7262"

To My Daughter- by a Oklahoma Police Officer "TO MY DAUGHTER" THIS WILL HIT YOU WHERE IT HURTS! *Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry, and pick you up and take you to the park to play. *Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you teach me how to put that puzzle of yours together. *Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the computer off, and sit with you in the backyard and blow bubbles. *Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble when you scream and whine for the ice cream truck and I will buy you one if he comes by. *Just for this afternoon, I won't worry about what you are going to be when you grow up, or second guess every decision I have made where you are concerned. *Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won't stand over you trying to fix them. *Just for this afternoon, I will take us to McDonald's and buy us both a Happy Meal so you can have both toys. *Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story about how you were born and how much I love you. *Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the tub and not get angry. *Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the porch and count all the stars. *Just for this evening, I will snuggle beside you for hours, and miss my favorite TV shows. *Just for this evening when I run my finger through your hair as you pray, I will simply be grateful that GOD has given me the greatest gift ever given. *I will think about the mothers and fathers who are searching for their missing children, the mothers and fathers who are visiting their children's graves instead of their bedrooms, and mothers and fathers who are in hospital rooms watching their children suffer senselessly, and screaming inside that they can't handle it anymore. *And when I kiss you good night I will hold you a little tighter, a little longer. It is then, that I will thank GOD for you, and ask Him for nothing, except one more day.............

This is a poem being sent from a Marine to his Dad. For those who take the time to read it, you'll see a letter from him to his Dad at the bottom. It makes you truly thankful for not only the Marines, but ALL of our troops. THE MARI! NE [] We all came together, Both young and old To fight for our freedom, To stand and be bold. [] In the midst of all evil, We stand our ground, And we protect our country From all terror around. [] Peace and not war, Is what some people say. But I'll give my life, So you can live the American way. [] I give you the right To talk of your peace. To stand in your groups, and protest in our streets. [] But still I fight on, I don't bitch, ! I don't whine. I'm just one of the people Who is doing your time. [] I'm harder than nails, Stronger than any machine. I'm the immortal soldier, I'm a U.S. MARINE! [] So stand in my shoes, And leave from your home. Fight for the people who hate you, With the protests they've shown. Fight for the stranger, Fight for the young. So they all may have, The greatest freedom you've won . [] Fight for the sick, Fight for the poor Fight for the cripple, Who lives next door. [] But when your time comes, Do what I've done. For if you stand up for freedom, You'll stand when the fight's done .

I FIND IT IRONIC YOU CHANGE YOUR COMMENT STATUS TO NO HTML CODES AND FRIENDS SHOW UP ON YOUR PAGE TO COMMENT AND WON'T EVEN TAKE THE TIME TO EVEN TYPE OUT HELLO HOPE YOUR HAVING A GREAT DAY BUT WILL TALK IN SHOUT FOR HOURS GUESS I JUST VALUE FRIENDSHIP FAR MORE THAN OTHERS IF I GO TO A PAGE THAT SAYS NO HTML COMMENTS I STILL LEAVE A COMMENT SOMETIMES I GET THE RUDE COMMENT SAYING THAT I'M A BITCH BUT AT LEAST I TOOK THE EFFORT OF TRYING TO BE FRIENDLY ANYWAYS HAVE A GOOD DAY MY FRIENDS I'VE TURNED THEM OFF BECAUSE ALL THE GLITTERY GRAPHICS PEOPLE LEAVE SLOW MY PAGE DOWN ON LOADING. AND SOME LEAVE 3-4 A DAY

I BET THEIRS NOT ONE OUT THERE THAT CAN SAY SHE HASN'T VISITED YOUR PAGE AND SHOWN YOU LOVE LETS RETURN THAT FAVOR AND HELP OUT A GREAT LADY I KNOW YOU WON'T REGRET IT IN THE LEAST JUST A FEW MINUTES OF YOUR TIME THIS LADY IS WHAT THE MEANING OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP IS SHE'S HELPED THE MAJORITY OF PEOPLE ON HERE BY GIVING BLASTS, RATING, AND BEING A FRIEND LETS REPOST THIS AND KEEP IT GOING LETS HELP HER LEVEL PEOPLE TO SHOW OUR APPRECIATION FOR HER FRIENDSHIP SHE ONLY NEEDS 29,000 POINTS LETS DO THIS FOR HER ToXic SiN

@ CherryTAP

I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested in buying groceries. I wasn't hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 7 years was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet memories. He often came with me and almost every time he'd pretend to go off and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I'd always spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses in his hands. He knew I loved yellow roses. With a heart filled with grief, I only wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery shopping was different since he had passed on. Shopping for one took time, a little more thought than it had for two. Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect s mall steak and remembered how he had loved his steak. Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blonde, slim and lovely in a soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large package of T-bones, dropped them in her basket, hesitated, and then put them back. She turned to go and once again reached for the pack of steaks. She saw me watching her and she smiled. "My husband loves T-bones, but honestly, at these prices, I don't know." I swallowed the emotion down my throat and met her pale blue eyes. "My husband passed away eight days ago," I told her. Glancing at the package in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my voice. "Buy him the steaks. And cherish every moment you have together." She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she placed the package in her basket and wheeled away. I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to the dairy products . There I stood, trying to decide which size milk I should buy. A Quart, I finally decided and moved on to the ice cream. If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream cone. I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle toward the front. I saw first the green suit, then recognized the pretty lady coming towards me. In her arms she carried a package. On her face was the brightest smile I had ever seen. I would swear a soft halo encircled her blonde hair as she kept walking toward me, her eyes holding mine. As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began misting in my eyes. "These are for you," she said and placed three beautiful long stemmed yellow roses in my arms. "When y ou go through the line, they will know these are paid for." She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, then smiled again. I wanted to tell her what she'd done, what the roses meant, but still unable to speak, I watched as she walked away as tears clouded my vision. I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green tissue wrapping and found it almost unreal. How did she know? Suddenly the answer seemed so clear. I wasn't alone. Oh, you haven't forgotten me, have you? I whispered, with tears in my eyes. He was still with me, and she was his angel. Every day, be thankful for what you have and who you are. (Please read all of this, it is really nice) This is a simple request. If you appreciate life, send this to your friends, including the person that sent it to you. Even though I clutch my blanket and growl when the alarm rings. Thank you, Lord, that I can h ear. There are many who are deaf. Even though I keep my eyes closed against the morning light as long as possible. Thank you, Lord, that I can see. Many are blind. Even though I huddle in my bed and put off rising. Thank you, Lord, that I have the strength to rise. There are many who are bedridden. Even though the first hour of my day is hectic, when socks are lost, toast is burned, tempers are short, and my children are so loud. Thank you, Lord, for my family. There are many who are lonely Even though our breakfast table never looks like the picture in magazines and the menu is at times unbalanced. Thank you, Lord, for the food we have. There are many who are hungry. Even though the routine of my job often is monotonous. Thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to work. There are many who have no job. Even though I grumble and bemoan my fate from day to day and wish my circumstances were not so modest. Thank you, Lord, for life. Pass this on to the friends you know. It might help a bit to make this world a better place to live, right? A friend is someone we turn to when our spirits need a lift. A friend is someone to treasure. For friendship is a gift. A friend is someone who fills our lives with Beauty, Joy and Grace and makes the world we live in a better and happier place. YOU ARE MY FRIEND! God bless you and yours. Now send this to every friend you have! "Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle."

The alarm rang, as it had so many times before. He was the first of the fireman up and out, awakened from his bed at the station by the clanging of the bell. Engine 3 pulled out of the bay, dispatch paged another station. And all the firemen aboard the truck were tensed with anticipation "It's gonna be a nice 'un, boys," He said as he donned his gear. And the young bucks smiled at him as they drew ever near. They turned onto his own street and he could see the fire's work He hoped their mother woke his kids to see their dad at work. His heart sank as he saw the home that he so dearly loved going up in smoke and flames as he donned his gloves. Agressively he hit the fire and searched the rooms above. And with a flare of personal vengeance he saved what remained of his home. As he left the world of flaming hell he saw his little girl He ran quickly to her side and said "Honey, Daddy's here." He would never forget what next she said As he held her close, "I love you, Daddy," she whimpered, And he began to weep. She died in his arms that night The others, later on. His comrades gave him their respects but his family was gone. He sits alone at the station, now, There's no more spring in his step. He stays detached from his fellows to avoid once again being hurt. He risks it all in fires, now, No more concerns for his safety. He has taken a solemn vow. He won't let it happen to another, as long as he's around. ...IF YOU LOVE WHAT THE MEN AND WOMEN DO IN THE FIRE SERVICE REPOST THIS... FIREMANS TEARS

This is good; I'll never look at my hands the same! Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was OK. He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice. "I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to him. "Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?" I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down.No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making. Grandpa smiled and related this story: Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my Mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my Parents and Spouse and walked my Daughter down the aisle. Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friend's foot. They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life. But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home.And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my Grandpa's hands and led him home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and wife I think of Grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face. When you receive this, say a prayer for the person who sent it to you and watch God's answer to prayer work in your life. Let's continue praying for one another.

Back in September of 2005, on the first day of school, Martha Cothren, a social studies school teacher at Robinson High School in Little Rock did something not to be forgotten. On the first day of school, with permission of the school superintendent, the principal and the building supervisor, she took all of the desks out of the classroom. The kids came into first period and there were no desks. They obviously looked around and said, "Ms. Cothren, where's our desk?" And she said, "You can't have a desk until you tell me how you earn them." They thought, "Well, maybe it's our grades." "No," she said. "Maybe it's our behavior." And she told them, "No, it's not even your behavior." And so they came and went in the first period, still no desks in the classroom. Second period, same thing, third period too. By early afternoon television news crews had gathered in Ms. Cothren's class to find out about this crazy teacher who had taken all the desks out of the classroom. The last period of the day, Martha Cothren gathered her class. They were at this time sitting on the floor around the sides of the room. And she says, "Throughout the day no one has really understood how you earn the desks that sit in this classroom ordinarily." She said, "Now I'm going to tell you." Martha Cothren went over to the door of her classroom and opened it, and as she did 27 U.S. veterans, wearing their uniforms, walked into that classroom, each one carrying a school desk. And they placed those school desks in rows, and then they stood along the wall. And by the time they had finished placing those desks, those kids, for the first time I think perhaps in their lives, understood how they earned those desks. Martha said, "You don't have to earn those desks. These guys did it for you. They put them out there for you, but it's up to you to sit here responsibly to learn, to be good students and good citizens, because they paid a price for you to have that desk, and don't ever forget it." - - - - - - - Friends, I think sometimes we forget that the freedoms that we have are freedoms not because of celebrities. The freedoms are because of ordinary people who did extraordinary things, who loved this country more than life itself, and who not only earned a school desk for a kid at the Robinson High School in Little Rock , but who earned a seat for you and me to enjoy this great land we call home, this wonderful nation that we better love enough to protect and preserve with the kind of conservative, solid values and principles that made us a great nation. "We live in the Land of the Free because of the brave." Please remember our Troops!

THIS IS OUR FIRST MOTHERS DAY, SINCE GOD TOOK YOU AWAY. MOTHER'S DAY THIS YEAR, WILL BE A FIRST FOR US, WITHOUT OUR MOTHER WHOM WE COULD ALWAYS TRUST. THE FLOWERS FOR HER, WE WILL BUY THIS YEAR, WE WILL PLACE IT ON HER GRAVE, WITH LOTS OF TEARS. THE MEAL WE PREPARE, WILL NOT BE MUCH, NO ONE WILL BE HUNGRY FOR THAT SPECIAL LUNCH. WE WILL GO ON, AS BEST THAT WE CAN, WITH THE HELP, FROM FAMILY AND FRIENDS. THE HOLES AND EMPTINESS INSIDE OUR HEARTS WILL NEVER HEAL, FOR US WITHOUT OUR MOTHER, MOTHERS DAY IS NO LONGER REAL. SO LORD IT'S WITH THE HEAVIEST HEARTS WE NOW PRAY, TAKE CARE OF OUR MOMMA, AND HELP US MAKE IT THROUGH THIS DAY. IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY MOTHER HAZEL WRITTEN BY MARY (AKA) OKIEGIRL7262 AUGUST 5, 1931 - NOVEMBER 12, 2003
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