A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art..
When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas,
There was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands..
He said, 'Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly... He often talked about you, and your love for art.' The young man held out this package. 'I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.'
The father
Opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.. 'Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift.'
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.
On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. 'We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?'
There was silence...
Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, 'We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.'
But the auctioneer persisted. 'Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?'
Another voice angrily. 'We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandts. Get on with the Real bids!'
But still the auctioneer continued. 'The son! The son! Who'll take the son?'
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. 'I'll give $10 for the painting...' Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
'We have $10, who will bid $20?'
'Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters.'
The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son.
They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.
The auctioneer pounded the gavel.. 'Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!'
A man sitting on the second row shouted, 'Now let's get on with the collection!'
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. 'I'm sorry, the auction is over.'
'What about the paintings?'
'I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will... I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.
The man who took the son gets everything!'
God gave His son over 2,000 years ago to die on the Cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: 'The Son, the Son, who'll take the Son?'
Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything!
FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, WHO SO EVER BELIEVETH, SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE...THAT'S LOVE
John is the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood
and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how
he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!"
He was a natural motivator.
If an employee was having a bad day, John was there telling the employee
how to look on the positive side of the situation.
Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up and asked
him, "I don't get it!"
"You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?"
He replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, you have two
choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or...you can choose to
be in a bad mood
I choose to be in a good mood."
Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or...I can
choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it.
Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their
complaining or...I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the
positive side of life.
"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested.
"Yes, it is," he said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away
all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to
situations. You choose how people affect your mood.
You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your
choice how you live your life."
I reflected on what he said. Soon hereafter, I left the Tower Industry
to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him
when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.
Several years later, I heard that he was involved in a serious
accident, falling some 60 feet from a communications tower.
After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, he was released
from the hospital with rods placed in his back.
I saw him about six months after the accident.
When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be
twins....Wanna see my scars?"
I declined to see his wounds, but I did ask him what had gone through his
mind as the accident took place.
"The first thing that went through my mind was the well-being of my
soon-to-be born daughter," he replied. "Then, as I lay on the ground, I
remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or...I could
choose to die. I chose to live."
"Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked.
He continued, "...the paramedics were great.
They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me
into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and
nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'he's a dead man'. I
knew I needed to take action."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Well, there was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me," said John.
"She asked if I was allergic to anything 'Yes, I replied.' The doctors
and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep
breath and yelled, 'Gravity'".
Over their laughter, I told them, "I am choosing to live. Operate on me
as if I am alive, not dead."
He lived, thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his
amazing attitude...I learned from him that every day we have the choice to
live fully.
Attitude, after all, is everything.
I got this as a email from one of my dearest friends and i wanted to share it with everyone that follows the Walch street journal. I hope this help you have a better attitude about things around you and the people around you. If you have a great attitude it will spread, They are very contagious like smiling.
