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Mny people walk in and out of ur life but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart!!" what ever hurts you now, will only make you stronger in the in the long run what ever hurts you now, will only make you stronger in the in the long run
There's nothing as nice as someone who shares, your laughter, your secrets, your wishes and cares, someone who's there through your good times and tears, who stays by your side as your friend through the years
I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me; I'd like to be the help that you've been always glad to be;
I'd like to mean as much to you each minute of the day As you have meant, old friend of mine, to me along the way.
I'd like to do the big things and the splendid things for you, To brush the gray from out your skies and leave them only blue;
I'd like to say the kindly things that I so oft have heard, And feel that I could rouse your soul the way that mine you've stirred.
I'd like to give you back the joy that you have given me, Yet that were wishing you a need I hope will never be;
I'd like to make you feel as rich as I, who travel on Undaunted in the darkest hours with you to lean upon.
I'm wishing at this time that I could but repay A portion of the gladness that you've strewn along my way;
And could I have one wish this year, this only would it be: I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me
Friends will come and friends will go, The seasons change and it will show, I will age and so will you, But our friendship stays, strong and true.
Friendship is like the breeze, You can't hold it, Smell it, Taste it, Or know when it's coming, But you can always feel it, And you'll always know it's there, It may come and then go, But you can know it'll always be back.
Standing by, All the way. Here to help you through your day.
Holding you up, When you are weak, Helping you find what it is you seek.
Catching your tears, When you cry. Pulling you through when the tide is high.
Just being there, Through thick and thin, All just to say, you are my friend.
I believe in angels, The kind that heaven sends, I am surrounded by angels, But I call them friends
You are friendly, kind and caring Sensitive, loyal and understanding Humorous, fun, secure and true Always there... yes that's you.
Special, accepting, exciting and wise Truthful and helpful, with honest blue eyes Confiding, forgiving, cheerful and bright Yes that's you... not one bit of spite.
You're one of a kind, different from others Generous, charming, but not one that smothers Optimistic, thoughtful, happy and game But not just another... in the long chain.
Appreciative, warm and precious like gold Our friendship won't tarnish or ever grow old You'll always be there, I know that is true I'll always be here... always for you.
A friend is someone we turn to when our spirits need a lift. A friend is someone we treasure for our friendship is a gift. A friend is someone who fills our lives with beauty, joy, and grace. And makes the whole world we live in a better and happier place.
ShadowWolfClan · Wed Aug 09, 2006 @ 04:27am · 0 Comments |
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You Walked Lightly
You walked lightly into my life Captivating and lovely to my mind, At first, I never cared who you were Now I don’t know who I am without you, You kissed me I felt my world change, You held me I heard my heart awaken, You loved me And my soul was born anew You walked lightly into my life Now my heart knows who you are And with every breath And every step I take down lonely roads, Your hand is my staff Your voice is my guide Your strength my shelter You’re passion my awakening. You walked lightly into my life, And all my pain You took as your own, And all my fears You cast into the sea, All my doubt Lost in your eyes, You walked lightly into my life And no matter if you choose to stay or go, My life is forever changed, Just because you loved me For a moment in time. And because I choose To love you For the rest of mine.
ShadowWolfClan · Wed Aug 09, 2006 @ 04:26am · 0 Comments |
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"In Nagasumicho, Asakusa, there is a temple named Shingyouji." With these words my guest began his tale. "It isn't a large temple," he said, "but it is said to be historically significant. Inside the temple is a wooden statue of Saint Nichirou. "In the fall of the twenty-second year of the Meiji, a baby boy was abandoned in front of the temple gate. He was wrapped in an old silk kimono, his head resting on a woman's sandal with a broken strap. Nothing with the baby revealed any clue to his name and age. "In those days, the owner of Shingyouji was an old man named Tamura Nissou. Tamura was engaged in his customary morning prayers when his old gatekeeper came to inform him of the abandoned baby. The priest, half-turning to the gatekeeper as if nothing unusual had happened, replied, 'Well, bring him here!' "When the gatekeeper returned, awkwardly holding the baby, the priest took the child at once, cradling it comfortably in his arms. 'Oh, what a pretty baby you are!' he said softly. 'Don't cry! Don't cry! I'll take care of you now.' "The old gatekeeper later told that story about the priest to temple visitors while selling them incense. As you may know, Nissou was said to have been a plasterer during his youth, at Fukagawa. When he was 19, he fell from some scaffolding and was knocked out. When he regained consciousness, he was unaccountably filled with religious fervor. He became a priest, eventually known as Saint Nissou. He was an extraordinary person, with a heroic air. "Nissou named the abandoned child Yunosuke, and he cared for him as if the boy were his own son. It wasn't an easy task, as there were no women in the temple at all. Nissou himself took care of the baby, cradling and feeding him in spare moments between his daily prayers. "One time, when Yunosuke was suffering from a severe cold, Nissou had to attend a religious ceremony at the home of a fish broker named Nishitatsu. Nissou held the feverish child inside his robe, counted his crystal beads and calmly prayed, just as usual. "Nissou often preached to visitors at the temple, and even today one can still see, hanging from a column at the entrance to Shingyouji, an old wooden signboard with the weathered notice: 'Sermon on the 16th of each month.' When Nissou preached, illustrating his sermons with ancient tales from Japan and China, he often told people not to forget the importance of parental love as a way to show one's appreciation for Buddha. Despite his stern appearance, Nissou was quite empathetic. Though he loved Yunosuke as his own son, he wanted the boy to meet his mother someday, if possible. "When Yunosuke was three years old, a woman in heavy makeup visited the temple and introduced herself as the boy's mother. But when Nissou questioned her about the boy, he received only doubtful answers in reply. It seemed to the priest that she intended to use the boy for some moneymaking scheme. This made Nissou so angry that he was almost driven to violence. He berated the woman soundly and told her to leave the temple. "In the winter of the 27th year of Meiji, when the world was full of rumors about a possible war between Japan and China, Nissou gave his customary sermon on the 16th day of the month. Among his listeners was an elegant woman who appeared to be in her mid-30s. After the sermon, she discreetly followed the priest to his living quarters, where Yunosuke was sitting at the hearth, peeling a tangerine. With a glance at Yunosuke, the woman bowed deeply to the priest Nissou, placing the palms of her hands on the temple floor. In a voice that quivered with strain, she said, 'I am the mother of this child.' "Nissou, usually a calm man, was so shocked by her sudden confession that for a moment he couldn't even speak a word of greeting. The woman politely ignored his surprise and thanked him for raising the boy. She spoke as if by rote, looking fixedly at the floor mat, but every part of her body showed the terrible strain she was under. After a while, Nissou waved his fan to interrupt the woman's words of thanks, and he asked her to explain why she had abandoned her child. Still staring at the mat, she told Nissou the following story: "Five years earlier, her husband had owned a rice store in Tawaramachi, Asakusa. Speculating unsuccessfully in stocks, he lost everything-his business and all his property. The couple decided to move to Yokohama to escape their creditors. They knew that a newborn baby would be a difficult burden while living on the run. Even worse, the wife couldn't produce any breast milk for the baby. So, reluctantly, they abandoned the baby in front of the temple gate at Shingyouji as they were leaving Tokyo. "They went to Yokohama on foot, hoping to find support from a relative there. The husband found a job at a transport company, and the wife became a maid at a store that sold sewing supplies. They worked hard for two years. Fortunately the owner of the transport company was impressed by the man's honesty and made him the manager of a small branch of the company on a busy street in Honboku. The woman was able to stop working as a maid and live with her husband again. She became pregnant and they had a healthy boy the following year. "In the depth of their hearts, they still remembered their poor abandoned baby. The woman in particular, whenever she fed her new baby, would remember the night they left Tokyo. "Nevertheless, the store was busy, their new baby was growing day by day, and they were able to set aside some money in the bank. For the first time in many years, they were able to live a happy life. "But their good fortune didn't continue for long. "Early in the spring of the 27th year of Meiji, the husband caught typhus. Within a week he was dead. Less than a hundred days after her husband's death, her beloved child died suddenly of dysentery. "She wept continually for several days and nights. For the following six months, she was lost in grief. When she finally recovered, the first thing she thought of was her first child, the one she had abandoned. She was eager to see him. 'I wish I could raise the boy by myself again,' she thought. She had to see if he was still alive, and she couldn't wait even a moment. She got on a train at once, and eventually reached Tokyo. "When she arrived at Shingyouji, she wanted to go directly to the living quarters and ask somebody where the boy might be; but it was the morning of the 16th, and the priest was giving his customary sermon. She sat among the audience in the hall as Nissou gave his sermon. Distracted by thoughts of her long-abandoned child, she waited impatiently for the priest to finish. "During his sermon Nissou talked about the importance of parental love, quoting from the story about Madam Renge and her five hundred children. In the story, Madam Renge bore five hundred eggs. The eggs floated on a river to a neighboring country, where they hatched into children who were raised by the king of that land. The five hundred children grew up to be soldiers. Unaware of their relationship to Renge, they attacked her castle. "Learning of the attack, Madam Renge climbed atop the castle wall and said, 'I am your mother, and here is the proof!' She drew out her breast, squeezed it with her lovely hand, and her milk flowed like a fountain, down from the high castle wall and into the mouths of the five hundred soldiers. "After the sermon the unfortunate woman hurried out immediately through the hallway to the living quarters, her eyes filled with tears. The story of the five hundred eggs had impressed her greatly. "After listening patiently to what the woman had to say, Nissou called Yunosuke to the hearth and introduced him to his mother. It was the first time the boy had seen her in five years. When Nissou saw how the woman held Yunosuke, suppressing her tears, he was convinced that she had told the truth. Even the heroic priest, though outwardly smiling, fought to hold back his own tears. "You may be able to guess the rest of the story. The woman took Yunosuke to her house in Yokohama. Following the advice of her former employers, the kind couple who owned the transport company, she began to support herself by teaching needlework. She and the boy lived a modest but comfortable life." After his long story, my guest took the cup of tea that was sitting on the floor in front of him. Before drinking, he looked into my face, and added quietly: "I am that abandoned child." Nodding, without a word, I poured more hot water into the teapot. Early on, I had easily guessed that the tale of the poor abandoned child was the personal history of my guest, Matsubara Yunosuke. After a short silence, I asked him, "Is your mother still in good health?" His answer was a surprise: "No, she died two years ago. But, that woman was not my real mother." Seeing my surprise, his eyes revealed a slight amusement. "It was true that her husband had a rice store in Tawaramachi, Asakusa, and they had hard time in Yokohama. But, it seems to have been a lie that they abandoned their baby. As I deal in cotton yarn, I often travel around Niigata on business. Once, while riding on a train, I came across a bag merchant who had lived in Tawaramachi, adjacent to my mother's house. He told me that she had a baby girl, who died before the family's bankruptcy. "After I returned to Yokohama, I secretly investigated my family register, and found his words to be true. The girl had died at the age of three months. Incredibly, my mother had told a lie for in order to raise me, the abandoned child. For the following 20 years, she took very good care of me. "I have often wondered why she did that. Whatever the truth may be, it is most reasonable for me to assume that Nissou's sermon made an extraordinary impression on the lonely woman. Hearing the sermon, she may have decided to act as the mother of the abandoned boy. Perhaps she had heard about the abandoned child from some visitor to the temple, or the gatekeeper." My guest finished his story, a thoughtful look on his face. He drank his cup of tea in silence, as if becoming aware of it for the first time. "And, did you tell your mother that you knew the truth?" I asked. "No, I didn't," he said. "It would have been too cruel. I guess she felt the same. She also never said a word about it. But, after knowing the truth, I felt quite differently about my mother." "What do you mean by that?" I asked, looking attentively into his eyes. "I came to love her much more," he said. "After knowing her secret, I felt that she was much more than just a mother to me, the abandoned boy." My guest spoke with great affection for his mother; but he did not seem to understand that he, too, had been much more than merely a son.
ShadowWolfClan · Wed Aug 09, 2006 @ 04:25am · 0 Comments |
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Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. Her beauty was so great, that each day all of the people of her village would bring flowers and lay them on her doorstep. They would come to gaze upon her loveliness and she would sing them beautiful songs, from high up on her balcony. She was the village treasure, and they cherished and loved her, but the people knew that someday her prince would come and take the princess away. He would love her like no other could love her, and they would live happily ever after, in his palace, far away. One day, just as everyone expected, a handsome prince did come to take the princess away. With stars in her eyes, and love in her precious heart, the beautiful princess accepted her fate, and his proposal of marriage. She pledged her love and life to him, and they went away to live in the prince's palace. When she arrived at the palace, instead of being loved and adored as all princesses should be, she was abused and humiliated instead. The princess quickly learned that the handsome prince was not a handsome prince at all! He was but a cruel and evil man who spun her love into something she had not intended, and used it in his own selfish way. This hurt the princess very badly, but even though her pain and suffering was great, she remembered that all princesses, no matter who they were, deserved a kind and gentle prince of their very own. So, on the day before the evil prince was to steal the very last piece of love that the princess had left in her heart, she took it, and wrapped it in a pretty red ribbon. Then she tied it to the leg of a little white dove that sat by her window, and told the dove to find her true prince, and give the love to him. When the evil prince realized that there was no more love left, in the heart of the princess, he threw her out into the snow, alone and without food, or a coat to keep her warm. She struggled through the night, trying to find a warm place to sleep, and some food to eat, but the snow was heavy and she could not find her way. After many hours and many miles, she fell unconscious, into the snow, and died. When the people of her village heard what had happen to the princess, they were very sad. They went into the forest to search for her and, when they found her frozen body in the snow, they cried and cried. They buried her at the foot of the tree, where she had fallen, and then went back to the village and cried some more. Soon afterwards, another prince arrived at the place where she had once lived and told the village people that a little white dove had bought him a tiny piece of love, from the heart of their beautiful princess, wrapped in a tiny ribbon and tied around its leg. He believed that if he could find the princess, and put the love back into her heart, then it would grow, and she would love him forever and a day. Of course, the people of the village were very happy, and they immediately took the prince to the place where the princess had been buried. When they opened her grave, she looked exactly the same as she did the day she died - beautiful, but cold and lifeless just as the people of the village had found her. The prince held up the tiny little piece of love, in the palm of his hand, still wrapped inside the pretty red ribbon: just the way that the dove had brought it to him. "But how do we get the love back into the heart of the princess, so it will grow?" The prince asked. "Didn't the dove tell you how?" Inquired the oldest member of the village. The prince shook his head and answered. "No, the dove was silent." They sat, and they thought, and they thought, and they thought, but no one could think of the answer. Then a wise old owl happened by, landed in a tall tree beside the prince and the village people, and asked. "Why are you here and why are you so sad?" The prince replied. "Because a little white dove brought me this tiny piece of love that came from the heart of the princess, but no one knows how to put it back." "Maybe it is not for you to bring the love back to the princess," the wise old owl said. "Maybe she is truly gone forever. Unwrap the red ribbon from the tiny piece of love and set it free." "But she wanted me to have it", said the prince."I don't want to let it go." "But you have to let it go", said the wise old owl. "How else will you know if it is there?" So, the prince carefully untied the ribbon, and to his dismay, there was nothing there. The prince was very sad, and the people from the village wondered what had become of the tiny piece of love from the heart of the princess. Again they looked to the wise old owl, and the owl said to the prince: "You received the love of the princess the moment that the dove brought it to you. Love cannot be wrapped in a ribbon. The ribbon was the symbol of her love. It was all she had to leave her prince." The prince cried and cried when he realized what the princess had given him: all of the love she had, in the only way she could and, until the day he died, the prince carried that tiny bit of love, safely hidden, deep within his own heart.
THE END
ShadowWolfClan · Wed Aug 09, 2006 @ 04:24am · 1 Comments |
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