Blog Archives - Grace Drops

The Power of Gentleness

5/31/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

One of Aesop's fables tells of a dispute between the wind and the sun as to which had the greater strength. In order to settle it, they agreed that whichever could force the traveler coming down the road to take off his coat would be proved the stronger of the two. The wind was the first to try. He puffed, and he roared, and he wailed; but the harder he blew, the colder the traveler became and the more closely he wrapped his coat around him. Then came the sun. Quietly and gently he shone down on the road until, in the comforting warmth of his rays, the traveler threw aside his coat. And the gentleness of the sun was proved the stronger than the bluster of the wind.

We live in a noisy, competitive, violent world. Headlines shout at us as if blaring through bullhorns. We are encouraged to be assertive, to fight our way to the top, to "look out for number one." Somehow we allow ourselves to believe that roughness and rudeness are signs of strength.

We underrate gentleness, thinking that because it does not advertise itself it cannot be important. But the force of gentleness is tremendous. Consider that softly dripping water, quietly and patiently over the years, can wear down a rock. A young tender plant can seem to force its way through impenetrable concrete or frozen ground.

Love is expressed through a gentle whisper, not a jolting shout. Healing comes from the gentleness of a listening ear, the patient presence of a friend. We seem to believe that if we talk in a loud voice, our words will carry more conviction. But it is not the power of our voices, but the wisdom of our words that matters.

Author: Anne B. Townsend. Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).

Overcoming Obstacles

5/27/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

The artist Michelangelo often stirred up the opposition of the contemporary artists of his day. Many of them envied his magnificent abilities. One example was the architect Bramante.

Pope Julius retained Michelangelo to build him a splendid tomb. Michelangelo gladly accepted the project and spent eight months in a marble pit personally cutting and selecting the most perfect stones. When he returned, he found the pope had second thoughts. Bramante had turned Pope Julius against the project. The Pope cancelled it.

Later the idea for another special project entered the Pope's mind. Bramante saw the project as a time consuming trap for which there would be little public recognition. Bramante recommended Michelangelo for the job.

The great artist saw the trap. He knew what Bramante was up to. He wished to turn the project down but did not want to refuse the Pope's request. So Michelangelo went to work. He spent many years doing the slow and tedious labor the project required. It was the Sistine Chapel.

The inspiration that flowed through Michelangelo can likewise flow through any human being. That is what the inspiration wants to do. It cannot be stopped. It is a living, powerful river that easily circumvents all obstacles.

Michelangelo collected his inner forces for a complete victory. Likewise, we must not fear to face the trickery of some people and expose it for what it is. This is not negative, but intelligent protection and spiritual perception.

In his many books on inner development author Vernon Howard refers to Michelangelo several times. He quotes him as saying, "The more the marble wastes, the more the statue grows." And, "I released the statue from the stone." He chiseled away all that was unnecessary, and David emerged.

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).

Sand and Stone

5/25/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

A story tells of two friends who were walking through the desert.

During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything,
wrote in the sand: TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath.

The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone: TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?"

The other friend replied "When someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it."

LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BLESSINGS IN STONE.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.

Take the time to live! Do not value the THINGS you have in your life. But value WHO you have in your life!

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).

Ears to Hear

5/22/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

An American Indian was in downtown New York, walking with his friend, who lived in New York City. Suddenly he said, “I hear a cricket.”

“Oh, you’re crazy,” his friend replied.

“No, I hear a cricket. I do! I’m sure of it.”

“It’s the noon hour. There are people bustling around cars honking, taxis squealing, noises from the city. I’m sure you can’t hear it.”

“I’m sure I do.” He listened attentively and then walked to the corner, across the street, and looked all around. Finally he found a shrub in a large cement planter. He dug beneath the leaves and found a cricket.

His friend was astounded. But the Cherokee said, “No. My ears are no different from yours. It simply depends on what you are listening to. Here, let me show you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change—a few quarters, some dimes, nickels, and pennies. And he dropped in on the concrete.

Every head within a block turned.

“You see what I mean?” he said as he began picking up his coins. “It all depends on what you are listening for.”

When you meet people, what are you listening for?

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).

The Story of the Little Grape Stem

5/21/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

Once upon a time there was a little grape stem. This stem was so glad to be alive. She drank water and minerals from the soil and grew and grew. She was young and strong and could manage quite well ... all by herself.

But then, the wind was cruel, the rain was harsh, the snow was not one bit understanding, and the little grape stem suffered. She drooped, weak and suffering. It would be so easy to stop trying to grow, to stop trying to live. The winter was long, and the stem was weary.

But then the little grape stem heard a voice. It was another grape stem calling out to her ... "Here, reach out ... hang on to me." But the stem hesitated.

"What would this mean?" she thought. For you see, the little stem had always managed quite well ... all by herself.

But then, ever so cautiously, she reached out towards the other grape stem. "See, I can help you," it said. "Just wind your tendrils about me and I will help you lift your head." And the little stem trusted ... and suddenly she could stand straight again.

The wind came ... and the rain ... and the snow, but when it came, the little grape stem was clinging to many other stems. And although the stems were swayed by the wind and frozen by the snow, they stood strongly united to each other. And in their united strength ... they could smile and grow.

And then, one day the little grape stem looked down and saw a tiny stem, swaying, frightened. And our little grape stem said, "Here, hang on ... I will help you." And the other stem reached up to our grape stem, and together all the stems grew.

Leaves budded ... flowers bloomed ... and finally, grapes formed. And the grapes fed many.

This is why we call ourselves a "team."

Blind Ambition

5/17/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

Challenges and obstacles are a part of life. Success and greatness are measured by how we overcome them. When I moved to Alabama in 1974, I heard about a local legend named Charlie Boswell. The following story is one of many that surround this amazing man:

Blind Ambition, by: John Kanary, A Cup of Chicken Soup for the Soul

Charlie Boswell has always been one of my heroes. He has inspired me and thousands of others to rise above circumstances and live our true passion. Charlie was blinded during World War II while rescuing his friend from a tank that was under fire. He was a great athlete before his accident and in a testimony to his talent and determination he decided to try a brand new sport, a sport he never imagined playing, even with his eyesight . . . golf!

Through determination and a deep love for the game he became the National Blind Golf Champion! He won that honor 13 times. One of his heroes was the great golfer Ben Hogan, so it truly was an honor for Charlie to win the Ben Hogan Award in 1958.

Upon meeting Ben Hogan, Charlie was awestruck and stated that he had one wish and it was to have one round of golf with the great Ben Hogan.

Mr. Hogan agreed that playing a round together would be an honor for him as well, as he had heard about all of Charlie's accomplishments and truly admired his skills.

"Would you like to play for money, Mr. Hogan?" blurted out Charlie.

"I can't play you for money, it wouldn't be fair!" said Mr. Hogan.

"Aw, come on, Mr. Hogan...$1,000 per hole!"

"I can't, what would people think of me, taking advantage of you and your circumstance," replied the sighted golfer.

"Chicken, Mr. Hogan?"

"Okay," blurted a frustrated Hogan, "but I am going to play my best!"

"I wouldn't expect anything else," said the confident Boswell.

"You're on Mr. Boswell, you name the time and the place!"

A very self-assured Boswell responded "10 o'clock . . . tonight!"

Looking for the Win-Win

5/15/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

My Dad is an engineer. To me, that means he loves to solve problems. It also means that he is always encouraging my two sisters and me to think. It's like he looks at every situation in life either as a puzzle to be solved, or one that has already been solved. One of the things that really gives Dad a big sense of accomplishment is when he figures out "The Win-Win situation." This means more than just a compromise. It means finding a solution to a problem, where you and the other people involved really feel happy about the result. It's not easy coming up with them at the time, but the answers look obvious once we find them.

Stray shopping carts present Dad with a win-win-win! Whenever we go to a shopping plaza or a grocery store, he tries to park near the "strays." Then we each take one, and wheel it in to the store. When we're walking in a parking lot, the shopping cart makes it almost impossible for a
moving car to not see us. (And the loud noise they make going across the rough pavement reminds the drivers to look, too!) That's important for us kids, because we aren't as visible as adults, and it keeps us safe from moving cars that might not see us. It's also good for the people driving near us, because they don't worry so much about where the kids are, and whether they're going to dart into harm's way. It also makes it easier to park, because these strays usually take up a parking space. The third "win": store workers have less work to do, gathering up the strays. Dad says this keeps costs down, and that's really important for the store and the shoppers.
The more I think about it, there are other wins that Dad hasn't told us about. Dad wins, because he doesn't worry so much that someone might back out and hit us, or even him. He's tall, but sometimes drivers can't see everything that's behind the car. When we first started bringing in the strays, it was pretty embarrassing. That was a big "LOSE," as far as I could see. I never saw
anyone else do it, and I usually had other things on my mind. Now it's just something we do. Dad says that little choices like this make our world a better place, one act at a time. I think he's right.

Written by Amanda Brophy at the age of 12; Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).

A Man and His Dog

5/13/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

A man and his dog were walking down a road. Both had been killed in the same automobile accident. As they walked along, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road.

It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. He gazed upon a magnificent gate that looked like Mother of Pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side. When he was close enough, he called out, “Excuse me, where are we?”

“This is Heaven, sir,” the man answered.

“Wow! Would you happen to have some water?” the man asked.

“Of course, sir. Come right in, and I’ll have some ice water brought right up.”

“Can my friend,” gesturing toward his dog, “come in, too?” the traveler asked.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t accept pets.”

The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.

After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road which led through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.

“Excuse me!” he called to the reader. “Do you have any water?”

“Yeah, sure, there’s a pump over there.” The man pointed to a place that couldn’t be seen from the outside gate. “Come on in.”

“How about my friend here?” the traveler gestured to the dog.

“There should be a bowl by the pump.” They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler took a long drink himself, then he filled the bowl and gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree waiting for them.

“What do you call this place?” the traveler asked. “This is Heaven,” he answered.

“Well, that’s confusing,” the traveler said. “The man down the road said that was Heaven, too.”

“Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That’s Hell.”

“Doesn’t it make you mad for them to use your name like that?”

“No, I can see how you might think so, but we’re just happy that they screen out the folks who’ll leave their best friends behind.”

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).

A Wise Investment

5/11/2013

A man built a prosperous business through zealous toil and honest dealings. As he advanced in age, he felt concerned about the future of his enterprise because he had no close relatives except three nephews. One day he summoned the young men and said, “I have a problem, and whoever comes up with the best solution will inherit all that I possess.” Giving each of them and equal sum of money, he instructed them to buy something that would fill his large office.

“Spend no more than I’ve given you,” he directed, “and be sure you’re back by sunset.”

All day long his nephews sought to fulfill their mission. Finally, when the shadows lengthened, they obediently returned to make their report. Their uncle asked to see their purchases.

The first dragged a huge bale of straw into the room. When it was untied it made a pile that nearly hid two of the walls. After it was cleared away, the second brought in two large bags of thistledown, which, when released, filled three-fourths of the room. This was even better than the first. The third nephew stood silent and forlorn.

“And what have you to offer?” asked his aged relative.

“Uncle, I spent half of my money to feed a hungry child and gave almost all the rest to a charity. With the little I had left, I bought these matches and a small candle.”

Then he lit the taper, and its light filled every corner of the room! The kindly old man realized that here was the noblest of them all. He blessed him for making the best use of his gift and gave him all his possessions.

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).

The Catch of a Lifetime

5/10/2013

© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.

He was 11 years old and went fishing every chance he got from a dock at his family's cabin on an island in the middle of a New Hampshire Lake. On the day before the bass season opened, he and his father were fishing early in the evening, catching some fish and perch with worms.

Then he tied on a small silver lure and practiced casting. The lure struck the water and caused colored ripples in the sunset, thin silver ripples as the moon rose over the lake. When his pole doubled over, he knew something huge was on the other end. His father watched with admiration as the boy skillfully worked the fish along side the dock.

Finally, he very gingerly lifted the exhausted fish from the water. It was the largest one he had ever seen, but it was a bass. The boy and his father looked at the handsome fish, gills playing back and forth in the moonlight. The father lit a match and looked at his watch. It was 10 p.m. -- two hours before the season opened. He looked at the fish, then at the boy. "You'll have to put it back, Son," he said.

"Dad!" cried the boy. "There will be another fish," Dad said. "Not as big as this one," cried the boy. He looked around the lake. No other fishermen or boats were around in the moonlight. He looked again at his father. Even though no one had seen them, nor could anyone ever know what time he caught the fish, the boy could tell by the clarity of his father’s voice that the decision was not negotiable. He slowly worked the hook out of the lip of the huge bass and lowered it into the black water. The creature swished its powerful body and disappeared. The boy suspected that never again would he see such a great fish.

That was 34 years ago. Today, the boy is a successful architect in New York City. His father's cabin is still there on the island in the middle of the lake. He takes his own son and daughters fishing from the same dock.

He was right. He has never again caught such a magnificent fish as the one he landed that night long ago. But he does see that same fish -- again and again -- every time he comes up against a question of ethics. For, as his father taught him, ethics are simple matters of right and wrong. It is only the practice of ethics that is difficult. Do we do right when no one is looking? Do we refuse to cut corners to get the design in on time? Or refuse to trade stocks based on information that we aren't supposed to have?

We would if we were taught to put the fish back when we were young. For we would have learned the truth. The decision to do right lives fresh and fragrant in our memory. It is a story we will proudly tell our friends and our grandchildren. Not about how we had a chance to beat the system and took it, but about how we did the right thing and were forever strengthened.

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).