From Slave Camp To Freedom - Page 25 of 36 - Carla's journey and what it took to make it happen

Monday Pick Me Up – “This is Good”

The story is told of a king in Africa who had a close friend with whom he grew up.

The friend had a habit of looking at every situation that ever occurred in his life (positive or negative) and remarking, “This is good!” One day the king and his friend were out on a hunting expedition. The friend would load and prepare the guns for the king.

The friend had apparently done something wrong in preparing one of the guns, for after taking the gun from his friend, the king fired it and his thumb was blown off. Examining the situation, the friend remarked as usual,
“This is good!” To which the king replied – “No, this is not good!” and proceeded to send his friend to jail.

About a year later, the king was hunting in an area that he should have known to stay clear of. Cannibals captured him and took him to their village. They tied his hands, stacked some wood, set up a stake and bound him to the stake. As they came near to set fire to the wood, they noticed that the king was missing a thumb. Being superstitious, they never ate anyone who was less than whole.

So untying the king, they sent him on his way.

As he returned home, he was reminded of the event that had taken his thumb and felt remorse for his treatment of his friend. He went immediately to the jail to speak with his friend. “You were right,” he said, “it was good that my thumb was blown off.” And he proceeded to tell the friend all that had just happened.” And so, I am very sorry for sending you to jail for so long. It was bad for me to do this.”

“No,” his friend replied, “This is good!” “What do you mean, ‘This is good’? How could it be good that I sent my friend to jail for a year?” “If I had not been in jail, I would have been with you, and not here with you right now.” In a very unusual way, the message here unfolds into exposing the following principle about life.

“Absolutely everything happens for a purpose; and out of what seems like adversity at the time; always comes good”. I’m sure that if any of us care to reflect back on the tragedy’s, the heartaches, the ‘bad times’ in our lives, that we discover that we have really grown or developed during that period of time:
even though the reflection may still cause us discomfort in some way.

It is in this way that we slowly gather experience and wisdom, and even though we may think or feel that it is unfair, that’s the way it is. “This is good”. Many of our life’s experiences have saved us from some form of cannibals; it’s just that we often don’t know that they have at the time.

So, for a simple example to help with awareness: next time you may begin to feel you are being ‘wronged’
by being stuck in a traffic jam, think about the cannibals that could be lurking down the road a bit, but will be gone by the time you get there.

Now that’s a bit different, but worth trying: “this is good” – despite the circumstances. Remember: “What others do or say is their stuff; how we react, or not, is our stuff”! And: “True Happiness in life isn’t having what you want, but wanting what you have”!

© Phil Evans
www.peoplestuff.com.au
Personal (Life) Coach and Small Business Mentor
Specializing in Relationship Dynamics
Keynote Speaker: Life Skills and Business Topics

Monday Pick Me Up – Found My Wings

Shared By Carla

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When my son, Justin, was four, he found a caterpillar and put it in a jar. Each day he fed it fresh grass and leaves. In a few weeks the caterpillar was fat and ready to sleep.

One morning we discovered the caterpillar wrapped in a cocoon. It hung from the top of the jar, an example of one of nature’s wonders. Justin was excited. To him it was like Christmas. He knew a moth or butterfly was about to be born, but he didn’t know what kind. He was curious to know what gift nature was about to give him. “Dad!” he ran to me one day. “Something’s happening. Come see!” He led me to his room. The cocoon had become translucent.

We could clearly see the wings of the unborn. A few days later, a beautiful black moth broke free from its silky cage and began to lay eggs on the blades of grass, completing the life cycle of the little caterpillar.

The next day, I convinced my young son it was time to set the moth free. He took it outside, opened the jar, and the little moth flew out. It circled the yard twice, came back, and landed on Justin’s arm. He picked up, tossed it in the air, and the moth repeated its flight pattern. He tried over and over to set it free, but each time it would return to his arm.

Justin gave up. He returned his little pet to the jar.

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Monday Pick Me Up – Love The Climb

Shared By Carla

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I started doing cycling at the local Good Life Fitness gym last year. If you’ve ever done stationary cycling you know how grueling it can be. It’s a deep pain and extremely exhausting. That little bike can dish out
quite a punch. It is a great workout.

It’s been over a year now. I’ve been cycling once per week to get into better shape for hockey. It’s worked!

When I first started cycling I used to hate climbing. Climbing is when you crank up your gear shift (resistance) on the bike. You crank it so you literally have to jump out of your seat to hammer down those pedals and keep moving. It takes every ounce of energy and effort to keep moving forward. It tests your will and your mind. Walking down a set of steps after this work out is not an option. Welcome to the climb.

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Monday Pick Me Up – They don’t walk in your shoes… Click, Click, Click!

Shared By Carla

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We ducked into the dimly lit thrift shop to get out of the rain. Like so many things since our daughter’s birth,
I hadn’t planned on a trip to this place. But I figured we’d see what they had since we were there.

“Hi, today is stuff a bag day. Would you like one?” The clerk asked. “What is stuff a bag day?”

“You take a bag and stuff it with what ever you want and it’s only $3. Best deal in town.” “Okay, sounds great,” I said, despite the fact I hadn’t planned on buying anything.

I took my six-year-old daughter’s hand and we started to wander around. Suddenly there was a tug on my hand and my attention was being directed to the shoe section. She shares my weakness for shoes, so we stopped for a minute to look. I let go of her hand and she reached out to touch a pair of shiny black shoes with a strap and silver buckle.

“Buy me?” She inquires.

“Oh, Sweetie, they are tap shoes. You aren’t taking tap.” “Buy me?” She repeats. “Well, let’s try them on.” She sits on the floor and removes her bright pink rain boots, with Barbie on the sides, and easily slides the new shoes on. A perfect fit. When she stands up she hears ‘click.’ She takes a step. Click, Click. Slowly recognition dawns, as she makes the connection between the shoes and her moving feet. Click, Click, Click.

“Buy me?” With a hopeful look in her eyes. Again, “Buy me, peas?” “Okay Sweetie, take them off and put them in the bag.”

We look around some more and get a few t-shirts, pants, books and games and a naked baby doll. Well, it’s stuff a bag day – might as well get my money’s worth, I think to myself.

The sun has come back out as we emerge from our little side trip and we continue on our way. As we near the car, Amara reaches for the bag. As she climbs into the back seat, I give her the bag wondering what treasure she is looking for. The shoes, of course. She is my daughter after all. “My wear.”

It’s not a question, so I took the tag off and helped her with the buckle. Our next stop was the grocery store and these shoes were made to make noise, especially on my little girl’s feet. This could be interesting…

Click, Click, Click – people turn to look as we enter the store. Click, Click, Click. I can feel the disapproving stares of the proper people. People who would never allow their daughter to wear tap shoes to the grocery store. I hold my head up with pride. The click, click, click is music to my ears. “Excuse me dear. Is your daughter in tap this year?”

“No.” I replied. “Well why on earth would you allow her to wear tap shoes, here, of all places? They make such a noise.”

“Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” “Wonderful? My dear, this is not the place to wear those shoes.”

“Oh, I think this is the perfect place to wear them. You see she asked for them.” “Just because she asked for them, doesn’t mean you have to get them for her.” “You don’t understand,” I said. “When she was a baby, we were told she would never walk or talk. It has taken a lot of hard work and patience but she asked for the shoes and the click, click, click says that she can walk.”

My daughter, who is always on the move, is 18 now and will graduate from grade 12 in June. It has not always been easy, but it has all been worthwhile. She has taught me that it doesn’t matter what others think. They don’t walk in your shoes.

And just like the ladies in the purple hats*, sometimes you simply have to wear tap shoes to the grocery store – if for nothing else, just the sheer joy of hearing the click, click, click. * Ladies in purple hats are groups of women who have reached a certain age and now can allow themselves to enjoy life without fear of what others think.

Pauline Fraser

Pauline was born and raised in Nova Scotia and now calls British Columbia home. She is married and has three children,
including a daughter with autism. Raising a special needs child was not how she had planned to spend her life, but now that she has, she wouldn’t change a thing. Her daughter has taught her so much about life and living that she can’t
imagine how empty life would be without her. You can email Pauline at: pfraser@shaw.ca

Monday Pick Me Up – The Daffodil Principle

Shared By Carla

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Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, “Mother, you must come and see the daffodils before they are over. ” I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. Going and coming took most of a day – and I honestly did not have a free day until the following week.

“I will come next Tuesday,” I promised, a little reluctantly, on her third call. Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and so I drove the length of Route 91, continued on I-215, and finally turned onto Route 18 and began to drive up the mountain highway.

The tops of the mountains were sheathed in clouds, and I had gone only a few miles when the road was completely covered with a wet, gray blanket of fog. I slowed to a crawl, my heart pounding. The road becomes narrow and winding toward the top of the mountain. As I executed the hazardous turns at a snail’s pace, I was praying to reach the turnoff at Blue Jay that would signify I had arrived.

When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren I said, “Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these darling children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!”

My daughter smiled calmly, “We drive in this all the time, Mother.”

“Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears – and then I’m heading for home!” I assured her. “I was hoping you’d take me over to the garage to pick up my car. The mechanic just called, and they’ve
finished repairing the engine,” she answered. “How far will we have to drive?” I asked cautiously.

“Just a few blocks,”Carolyn said cheerfully. So we buckled up the children and went out to my car. “I’ll drive,” Carolyn offered. “I’m used to this.” We got into the car, and she began driving. In a few minutes I was aware that we were back on the Rim-of-the-World Road heading over the top of the mountain. “Where are we going?” I exclaimed, distressed to be back on the mountain road in the fog.

“This isn’t the way to the garage!” “We’re going to my garage the long way,” Carolyn smiled, “by way of the daffodils.” “Carolyn, I said sternly, trying to sound as if I was still the mother and in charge of the situation, “please turn around. There is nothing in the world that I want to see enough to drive on this road in this weather.”

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