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Forum: Idea Exchange
Topic: Inspirational Stories
Topic Posted by: ModeratorOrganization: Bottom Line Underwriters, Inc.
Date Posted: Fri Feb 13 23:34:06 EST 1998
Topic Description: Sometimes, it all makes sense. See what people are sharing.
Posted by: Dundee
Date posted: Sat Mar 16 8:06:16 2002
Subject: No Limits
Message:
I work for a company that has been successfully developing and marketing time and attendance software/hardware for over 14 years. We are very dedicated and have bonuses based on monthly personal and company goals that are tough but attainable. This particular month (there's been more than one but this one stands out) we went into the last day of the month needing about 4 times the normal daily amount of sales to reach our goal. I forgot to mention that, being a Christian based company, we pray before our sales meetings. That morning I had prayed for what to say at the meeting that morning regarding the large deficit. God's answer was clear "Tell them they will reach their goal and to remember where it came from." After delivering this message to our sales team, we prayed, discussed business, and went to work. By the end of the day (6:00PM) we had called everyone we could think of (some twice) and though we had sold a remarkable 98% of needed sales, the company, and one salesperson, was still a little short. This person had reached the end of his rope and with no one left to call, another sales person and I went into the conference room and prayed for the individual. We walked out and heard this salesperson receive a call from an unexpected customer who then placed an order thus pushing him and the company over the top. Several dropped to their knees in thanksgiving and made pledges to give back to the Lord for what He had given them. We have learned never to limit what God can do.
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| nobody important | Thu Feb 14 20:40:20 2008 | ||
| Tina Strehle | Sun Jan 3 15:38:18 2010 | ||
| Mandy | Tue Jul 13 1:00:54 2010 |
Posted by: Anonymous
Date posted: Mon Jan 29 11:51:27 2001
Subject: The Gift
Message:
Just a reminder to us all of what's really important!
The Gift
The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.
Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside it?" The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it is not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.
It is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for years and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.
In a very real sense, each of us as humans have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family or God.
There isn't a more precious possession anyone could hold.
Posted by: Snuffy Smiff (geek@webwheels.com )
Date posted: Sat Feb 14 3:14:02 EST 1998
Subject: Sometimes it just ain't about bux
Message:
Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't wear boots; he didn't like them and anyway he didn't own any. The thin sneakers he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold.
Bobby had been in his backyard for about an hour already. And, try as he might, he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift. He shook his head as he thought, "This is useless, even if I do come up with an idea, I don't have any money to spend."
Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care, or try, there just never seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that she was earning could only be stretched so far.
What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran the household in their mother's absence.
All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother. Somehow, it just wasn't fair. Here it was Christmas Eve already, and he had nothing.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down to the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six without a father, especially when he needed a man to talk to.
Bobby walked from shop to shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful and so out of reach. It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the setting sun's rays reflecting off of something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime.
Never before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment. As he held his new found treasure, a warmth spread throughout his entire body and he walked into the first store he saw. His excitement quickly turned cold when salesperson after salesperson told him that he could not buy anything with only a dime.
He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one flower for his mother's Christmas gift. The shop owner looked at Bobby and his ten cent offering. Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him, "You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you."
As Bobby waited, he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy,he could see why mothers and girls liked flowers.
The sound of the door closing as the last customer left, jolted Bobby back to reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid.
Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter. There, before Bobby's eyes, lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all tied together with a big silver bow. Bobby's heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed them gently into a long white box.
"That will be ten cents young man." the shop owner said reaching out his hand for the dime. Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. Could this be true? No one else would give him a thing for his dime! Sensing the boy's reluctance, the shop owner added, "I just happened to have some roses on sale for ten cents adozen. Would you like them?"
This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry Christmas, son."
As he returned inside, the shop keepers wife walked out. "Who were you talking to back there and where are the roses you were fixing?"
Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind or what, but I set them aside anyway. Then just a few minutes ago, a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small dime.
When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too was a poor boy with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A bearded man, whom I never knew, stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars. When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was, and I put together a dozen of my very best roses."
The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.
- Thomas Pucci
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| Michael Hargrove | Sun Feb 15 18:20:46 EST 1998 | ||
| Chris Parra | Sun Apr 25 1:49:51 EDT 1999 | ||
| jose chavarria | Thu Jan 2 9:57:47 2003 | ||
| Ronaldo Basa | Tue Jun 24 13:36:21 2008 |
Posted by: Snuffy Smiff
Date posted: Sat Feb 14 0:36:47 EST 1998
Subject: The Guardian (part II)
Message:
I realized the families I saw on this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers, who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world the children would play,
And grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
My life is my God, my country, my Corps."
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I started to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still
And we both shivered from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark night
This Guardian of Honor so willing to fight.
Posted by: Snuffy Smiff (geek@webwheels.com )
Date posted: Sat Feb 14 0:32:34 EST 1998
Subject: The Guardian
Message:
The Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone
In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
And to see just who in this home did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight did I see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the mantle, just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
a sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I found the house of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
curled upon the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the families I saw on this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers, who were willing to fi
Bottom Line Underwriters, Inc.
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Copyright © 1998 by Bottom Line Underwriters, Inc.
