Wednesday, 12 December 2012

57 cents


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            A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it was too crowded. “I can’t go to Sunday School,” she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by. Seeing her shabby, unkempt appear the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday School class. The child was so touched that she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus Christ.
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            Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement building and the parents call for the kind-hearted pastor, who had befriended their daughter, to handle the final arrangements. As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump. Inside was found 57 cents and a note scribble in childish handwriting which read, “This is to help the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday School.”

            For two years she had saved for the offering of love. When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what would do. Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building. But the story does not end there!

            A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands. When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered it for a 57 cent payment!

            Church members made large subscriptions. Checks came from far and wide. Within five years the little girl’s gift had increased to $250,000.00, a huge sum for that time. Her unselfish love had paid large dividends.

            When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3300, and Temple University, where hundreds of students are trained. Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of Sunday school time.

            In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history.

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A most EMBARRASSED day


A Most Embarrassed  Day

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            It drizzled. We waited for the school bell to ring. Yet, it did not. We huddled along the corridor keeping ourselves away from the drizzle. Strangely, I could also see the red morning sun shining relentlessly.
 
            Out of the blue, there had been electrical break down. Thus, there were no bell and no light as well. When I walked to the main gate of school, I discovered that my umbrella was no with me. I reminisced that I had bought it from home but nowhere to be seen. Frantically, I looked around to find my purple umbrella but ended up with disappointment.

            The rain poured down heavily from drizzle. I felt panic rising. My heart was huffing and puffing. There I was, looking at my friends, running to the bus station, which was located opposite to my school.

            Then, I thought of an idea, running there as well. When I was running, I stepped something slippery and fell down onto the ground. Ouch! There was terribly painful. I could see all the eyes of crowd focusing at me all the indifferent expressions. This was like an illusion, such an embarrassing moment

My DReam :)


My Dream

 

            I have thought about becoming a forensic scientist since I was six. It seems an impossible feat to others,  yet to me, I have faith and trust that I can fulfill my dreams with my unbeatable persistence.

            Undoubtedly, my parents have discouraged from becoming a scientist. Yet, I could not ignore the vision I have in my mind. On 24th April 2001, with excitement and inspiration, the headiness of the wild challenge, I have had my first post mortem on  carcass of a bird. This is a remarkable date, indicating a good headstart of my dream.


My HoMe



            A village which is nestled amidst shrubs and grass, it is my secluded hideaway which I spend my days and nights here, my home.

            Here, far from the claustrophobic classrooms, rushing crowds, busy sidewalks and congested streets. I can enjoy the solitude of nature. The picturesque village exudes a pleasant of comfortable atmosphere.

            I love to linger around here, looking around here, I can see a flurry of activities. Birds fly gracefully above me while bees travel flirtatiously sucking nectar, colourful butterflies flit about here and there, flipping their fragile wings, they form a breathtaking scenery that steal my heart away.

            I love you, my home.

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