Fridays Moments
Good Morning Friends,
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I hope your week has been good to you. Remember? that as each?day begins and as the sun rises to bring light to the darkness. We must take time to enjoy the day, for time is but a fleeting moment that can never be relived or regained. Make the moments?into a lifetime of memories that you can cherish.
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?Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try.” – Unknown
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?“People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing – that’s why we recommend it daily.” – Zig Ziglar
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The Seasons of Life
There was a man who had four sons. He wanted his sons to learn to not judge things too quickly. So he sent them each on a quest, in turn, to go and look at a pear tree that was a great distance away.
The first son went in the winter, the second in the spring, the third in summer, and the youngest son in the fall.
When they had all gone and come back, he called them together to describe what they had seen.
The first son said that the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted.
The second son said no – it was covered with green buds and full of promise.
The third son disagreed, he said it was laden with blossoms that smelled so sweet and looked so beautiful, it was the most graceful thing he had ever seen.
The last son disagreed with all of them; he said it was ripe and drooping with fruit, full of life and fulfilment.
The man then explained to his sons that they were all right, because they had each seen but one season in the tree’s life.
He told them that you cannot judge a tree, or a person, by only one season, and that the essence of who they are – and the pleasure, joy, and love that come from that life – can only be measured at the end, when all the seasons are up.
If you give up when it’s winter, you will miss the promise of your spring, the beauty of your summer, fulfilment of your fall.
Don’t judge a life by one difficult season. Don’t let the pain of one season destroy the joy of all the rest
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Friday's Laugh
Fred's Gone
A bill collector knocked on the door of a country debtor. "Is Fred home?" he asked the woman who answered the door. "Sorry," the woman replied. "Fred's gone for cotton." The next day the collector tried again. "Is Fred here today?" "No, sir," she said, "I'm afraid Fred has gone for cotton." When he returned the third day he humphed, "I suppose Fred is gone for cotton again,?" "No," the woman answered solemnly, "Fred died yesterday." Suspicious that he was being avoided, the collector decided to wait a week and investigate the cemetery himself. But sure enough, there was poor Fred's tombstone, with this inscription: ... "Gone, But Not Cotton!