Warrior of The Light - The two drops of oil

Standing above the little town of Tarifa is an old fort built by the Moors. I remember sitting here with my wife, Christina, in 1982, and for the first time looking at a continent from across a narrow stretch of water: Africa. At that time I could not dream that such a lazy moment in the late afternoon would inspire a scene in my best-known book, “The Alchemist”. Nor could I have dreamed that the story that follows, heard in the car, would serve as an excellent example for all of us who are searching for some balance between discipline and compassion.

A merchant sent his son to learn the Secret of Happiness from the wisest of men. The young man wandered through the desert for forty days until he reached a beautiful castle at the top of a mountain. There lived the sage that the young man was looking for.

However, instead of finding a holy man, our hero entered a room and saw a great deal of activity; merchants coming and going, people chatting in the corners, a small orchestra playing sweet melodies, and there was a table laden with the most delectable dishes of that part of the world.

The wise man talked to everybody, and the young man had to wait for two hours until it was time for his audience.

With considerable patience, he listened attentively to the reason for the boy’s visit, but told him that at that moment he did not have the time to explain to him the Secret of Happiness.

He suggested that the young man take a stroll around his palace and come back in two hours’ time.

“However, I want to ask you a favor,” he added, handing the boy a teaspoon, in which he poured two drops of oil. “While you walk, carry this spoon and don’t let the oil spill.”

The young man began to climb up and down the palace staircases, always keeping his eyes fixed on the spoon. At the end of two hours he returned to the presence of the wise man.

“So,” asked the sage, “did you see the Persian tapestries hanging in my dining room? Did you see the garden that the Master of Gardeners took ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?”

Embarrassed, the young man confessed that he had seen nothing. His only concern was not to spill the drops of oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.

“So, go back and see the wonders of my world,” said the wise man. “You can’t trust a man if you don’t know his house.”

Now more at ease, the young man took the spoon and strolled again through the palace, this time paying attention to all the works of art that hung from the ceiling and walls. He saw the gardens, the mountains all around the palace, the delicacy of the flowers, the taste with which each work of art was placed in its niche. Returning to the sage, he reported in detail all that he had seen.

“But where are the two drops of oil that I entrusted to you?” asked the sage.

Looking down at the spoon, the young man realized that he had spilled the oil.

“Well, that is the only advice I have to give you,” said the sage of sages. “The Secret of Happiness lies in looking at all the wonders of the world and never forgetting the two drops of oil in the spoon.”

this is so beautiful.....old but ...

You are My Sunshine, My only sunshine' (Be prepared to get watery eyes!)
 
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 found out that the new baby was going be a girl, and day after day,
 night after night, Michael sang to his sister in mommy's tummy.
 
He was building a bond of love with his little sister before he even met
 her.
 
The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen, an active member of the
 Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee.
 
In time, the labor pains came. Soon it was every five minutes, every
 three, every minute. But serious complications arose during delivery and
 Karen found herself in hours of labor.
 
Would a C-section be required? Finally, after a long struggle, Michael's
 little sister was born. But she was in very serious condition.
 
With a siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushed the infant to
 the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville,
 Tennessee. The days inched by. The little girl got worse. The
 pediatrician had to tell the parents there is very little hope. Be
 prepared for the worst.
 
Karen and her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot.

 They had fixed up a special room in their house for their new baby but
 now they found themselves having to plan for a funeral. Michael,
 however, kept begging his parents to let him see his sister. I want to
 sing to her, he kept saying.
 
Week two in intensive care looked as if a funeral would come before the
 week was over.
 
Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never
 allowed in Intensive Care. Karen decided to take Michael whether they
 liked it or not.
 
If he didn't see his sister right then, he may never see her alive. She
 dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU. He
 looked like a walking laundry basket.
 
The head nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed, 'Get that kid out
 of here now. No children are allowed.' The mother rose up strong in
 Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glared steel-eyed right into
 the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line. 'He is not leaving until he
 sings to his sister' she stated.
 
Then Karen towed Michael to his sister's bedside.

 He gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle to live.
 
After a moment, he began to sing.
 In the pure-hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sang:

 'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies 
are
 gray.' Instantly the baby girl seemed to respond. The pulse rate began

 'Keep on singing, Michael,' encouraged Karen with tears in her eyes.

 'You never know, dear, how much I love you, please don't take my
 sunshine away.'

 As Michael sang to his sister, the baby's ragged, strained breathing
 became as smooth as a kitten's purr 'Keep on singing, sweetheart.'
 'The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my
 arms'. Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing rest,
 seemed to sweep over her.
 'Keep on singing, Michael.' Tears had now conquered the face of the
 bossy head nurse. Karen glowed.

 'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't take my sunshine
 away...'
 The next day...the very next day. the little girl was 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.
LOVE IS SO INCREDIBLY POWERFUL.
 
Life is good.
 
Have a Wonderful Day! Just send this to (4) people and see what happens
 on the fourth day.
 
Do not break this, please. There is no cost, but lots of rewards
 
In God We Trust!
 'The evidence of God's presence far outweighs the proof of His absence.'

You Can Do It

Rav Akiva, the teacher of Rav Shimon (author of the holy Zohar), was forty years old when he began to study the secrets of Kabbalah. He did not think he could do it after having lived such a different way of life all those years.

One day he passed a stream and noticed a hole inside a rock caused by years of tiny drops of water. Rachel, his wife, encouraged him, "If it takes the rock many years to form a hole, it is a sign that it must take all of us time to change and let the Light in," she explained.

Imagine if he hadn't learned this lesson. Imagine the world without the teachings of Rav Shimon. Imagine the world without the Light of the Zohar. There'd be nothing to imagine as this world would cease to exist.

Four words for you today:   YOU CAN DO IT!

ACRES OF DIAMONDS

There was a farmer in Africa who was happy and content. He was happy because he was content. He was content because he was happy. One day a wise man came to him and told him about the glory of diamonds and the power that goes along with them. The wise man said, "If you had a diamond the size of your thumb, you could have your own city. If you had a diamond the size of your fist, you could probably own your own country." And then he went away. That night the farmer couldn't sleep. He was unhappy and he was discontent. He was unhappy because he was discontent and discontent because he was unhappy. The next morning he made arrangements to sell off his farm, took care of his family and went in search of diamonds. He looked all over Africa and couldn't find any. He looked all through Europe and couldn't find any. When he got to Spain, he was emotionally, physically and financially broke. He got so disheartened that he threw himself into the Barcelona River and committed suicide. Back home, the person who had bought his farm was watering the camels at a stream that ran through the farm. Across the stream, the rays of the morning sun hit a stone and made it sparkle like a rainbow. He thought it would look good on the mantle piece. He picked up the stone and put it in the living room. That afternoon the wise man came and saw the stone sparkling. He asked, "Is Hafiz back?" The new owner said, "No, why do you ask?" The wise man said, "Because that is a diamond. I recognize one when I see one." The man said, no, that's just a stone I picked up from the stream. Come, I'll show you. There are many more." They went and picked some samples and sent them for analysis. Sure enough, the stones were diamonds. They found that the farm was indeed covered with acres and acres of diamonds.* What is the moral of this story?

There are five morals:

1. When our attitude is right, we realize that we are all walking on acres and acres of diamonds.
·  Opportunity is always under our feet. We don't have to go anywhere. All we need
to do is recognize it.
2. The grass on the other side always looks greener.
3. While we are dyeing the grass on the other side, there are others who are dyeing the
grass on our side. They would be happy to trade places with us.
4. When people don't know how to recognize opportunity, they complain of noise when it
knocks.
5. The same opportunity never knocks twice. The next one may be better or worse, but it
is never the same one.