----- Original Message ----- 
From: Prose'n'Poems 
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] 
Sent: Monday, November 24, 2008 3:12 AM
Subject: A Tribute to God * You Go Rest, Dad


Prose'n'Poems
21-Nov-08 
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  Welcome to Prose'n'Poems. Start your day with the Thought Of The Day and 
enjoy the poems and prose from various writers. The content is not meant to 
offend anyone. If any of the material is Copyright, please inform me and I 
shall give proper credit or remove it from the site. Please read the copyright 
information at the bottom.              Hershy


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Thought Of The Day

You have no control over what the other guy does. 
You only have control over what you do.
A. J. Kitt
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Photo for the day: One with nature
http://hershy.smugmug.com/gallery/4836391_ACj8A/1/221063289_ptQA9/Large


Do click on the link and have a look. 

Your comments and star rating are most welcome! They also help getting it 
selected for top 1000 pictures!
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that appears when you pass the mouse on the upper right corner of picture. 



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To keep Prose'n'Poems going we need contributions from members.
Original contributions and other collected from elsewhere.
Please do not send Copyright material without a permission from the author.
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A Tribute to God

>From the deep blue sea to the high mountain peak,
We hear His resounding voice awesomely speak.
But before there were oceans so deep,
And the sky so infinitely high above,
There was the eternal living God,
Who created everything with splendor and abounding love.

The brightly colorfully twinkling star,
And the sun's brilliant golden glow,
Are treasures of awe
For us to eternally cherish and adore.

For God, You are the exalted One,
Mighty and so caring in everything
That You have marvelously done,
For You blessed everyone.
You are our rock and our merciful King,
And we lovingly praise you
In songs of joy that we happily sing.
For you gave form and life to everything great and small,
Bestowing your fatherly protection and blessings to all.
For God, precious, beloved and hallowed You shall always be,
And Your grandeur will reign majestically.

Cynthia L. Groopman
Copyright ©2008  Cynthia L. Groopman




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You Go Rest, Dad

I cannot think of anything that I disliked more. When I was around 10-11 years 
old, the one thing that I absolutely did not like to do during my summer break 
from school was...mowing the yard. I just did not enjoy pushing that vibrating, 
stinking metal contraption across our yard out in the 100 degree heat. Now, our 
yard was just an average size yard, but it seemed to be about 50 acres or so as 
I pushed the lawn mower over ever inch of it.

So, why did I mow the yard, if I disliked it so greatly? Dad told me to do it. 
And Dad was the boss. And I obeyed him because it was my duty to do so. So, 
mumbling and grumbling and complaining, I mowed the lawn about twice a month 
during those summer vacations, basically just to get my dad off of my back But 
then, when I was about sixteen, something strange and wonderful happened. (No, 
we didn't move into an apartment WITHOUT a yard!

I remember coming home from visiting my friends and as I walked into the 
kitchen to get some ice water, I happened to look out the kitchen window into 
the back yard. My Dad was out there in the 100 degree heat, his face beet red, 
dripping with sweat as he pushed the lawn mower over the tall grass.And I just 
stood there watching him for a few minutes and something began to stir in me. I 
began to think about how great a Dad I had. Here was the man who had been to 
every baseball game I had ever played in. He was always there for me. This was 
the man who worked hard every week to provide for me and my siblings. He made a 
great many sacrifices along the way. As I continued to watch for just a minute 
longer, memories and scenes flooded my mind as I saw how he had poured out his 
love for me over the years.

And then, I did something I never had done before. I walked outside, into the 
100 degree heat, walked over to where my Dad was, and I placed my hands on the 
lawn mower and said... "You go rest, Dad. I'll finish up."

I'll never forget what my father said that day. His words he simply said, 
"Thanks, son." But, his face, said much more. The smile that spread across his 
face said, "I'm proud of you son." It said, "Well done, my son."

I'm telling you the look on his face sounded in my ears like the applause of a 
stadium full of excited fans. And so, I mowed the yard that day. Why? Because I 
knew dad wanted me to. And dad was my hero. And I did it because I loved him.

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Hershy,  Mumbai, India

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