A little girl was sitting on her grandfather’s lap. She intently listens to the old man as he reads the story of creation.

From time to time, she would take her eyes off the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek. Then, she will touch her own cheek and listen to the story again. She was alternately stroking her own cheek, then his again.

Finally, she spoke up, “Lolo, did God make you?”

"That’s right, sweetheart,” he answered very proudly because the girl is getting the point of the creation story. "God made me a long time ago,” he said.

“Ohhh” she nodded, “Lolo, did God make me, too?”

“Yes, indeed, honey,” he said, “God made you just a little while ago,” he explained, because he noticed what the girl is doing with their cheeks.

The girl once again felt their respective faces. Then she knowingly observed, “God's getting better at it, isn't he?”


Remember:

Well, God is not getting better at what He does. It is just that we are getting to know Him better, and we appreciate what He is doing in our lives better.

He almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe; he looked poor and hungry.

He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you.

He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson."

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt.

As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.

Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.

Bryan never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.

He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, "And think of me."

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good a she headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.

A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her.

The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase.

The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.

After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back The waitress wondered where the lady could be.

Then she noticed something written on the napkin. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote: "You don't owe me anything. I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do:

Do not let this chain of love end with you."

Under the napkin were four more $100 bills.

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard.

She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's gonna be all right. I love you, Bryan Anderson."

There is an old saying "What goes around comes around." Today, I sent you this story, and I'm asking you to pass it on. Let this light shine.


A Sunday School class teacher asked her students to draw pictures of their favorite Bible stories. Everyone eagerly took their paper and colors and started drawing.

After a few minutes, the teacher asked, “Who wants to go first, telling his favorite Bible story?” Many little hands went up. “Okay, Joshua, you go first.”

Joshua showed a picture of a kneeling man, with some animals around him. (What is that story?) “This is Daniel in the lions’ den,” Joshua explained. “I liked this story because God cared for Daniel.”

“Very good!” the teacher said. There was a round of applause. “Now, Elaine, it’s your turn.”

Elaine showed a picture of a boy facing a very big man. The boy aims at the man with a slingshot. (I hope you know this story.) “This is David and Goliath,” started Elaine. “David was able to kill Goliath because God helped him.” Another round of applause.

It was then that the teacher noticed Rodney, with his head bowed. Rodney is shy and needs some encouragement to participate. So the teacher went to him and asked, “And what do we have there, Rodney?” Rodney shyly showed his picture to his teacher.

The teacher was surprised. The picture shows an airplane with four people in it. (Can you guess what did Rodney draw?) “Okay, Rodney, can tell us which Bible story is this?”

Rodney slowly stood up, shyly showed his picture, and said, “This is the flight to Egypt.” (Now you’re smiling. Wait for more.) “This is Joseph, this is Mary, and this is Jesus.” (Now who is the fourth man?)

“And who is the fourth man here?” the teacher asked, pointing to the man in front of the plane.

“That’s Pontius – the pilot,” (Pilate???) Rodney said.

(Now you are laughing.)


I will try to update this blog more often. Please visit this site once in a while. I thank Revs. Ferdie Mercado, Jonah Caballes, and Josue Albaniel for their emails and messages.

Once upon a time, a king commanded his army to place a boulder on a roadway. Then he told a trusted servant to see if anyone would try to remove the rock.

Some of the king's bravest knights passed by, ignored the rock, and simply walked around it. Many thought they have better and more important things to do than moving a rock. They are too noble to roll up their sleeves and do such a lowly task.

“What kind of king do we have?” some merchants blamed the king. “He cannot even keep the roads clear. How can we go to the market to sell our goods? What are our taxes for?” However, they did nothing about getting the big stone out of the way.

A peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon seeing the boulder, the peasant put down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. Beneath the rock is a purse with many gold coins. A note from the king says, “You deserve these gold coins because you care enough to remove the rock. Proceed to the palace for more reward.”

The peasant learned what many others never understand: Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve one's condition.

About this blog

The stories in this blog are rewritten from my friends' emails.
Some of them are my original stories.