Subj: [RR] *Moral Backbone!
Date: 5/7/99 12:05:53 PM Central Daylight Time
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] (Duane Wheeler)
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Moral Backbone!
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*Deep within each human being is a precious thing, possessed
by no other creature-the thing we call a conscience.
No one can tell you where it is located or what it looks like
but it is there *Big as life, just the same...
Occasionaly, in some people... it falls asleep.
*But in MOST PEOPLE it is like an inner voice that is very much
awake-sometimes it wispers to you...at other times it yells out loud!
Your conscious is what makes it possible for you... by yourself to decide
what is RIGHT ...and what is WRONG!
---------------------------------------------------(*
*Once upon a time,... there was an Indian who was named "Two dogs
fighting" A Pioneer visitor came to him and asked how he came to have
that name... the Indian replied: "Inside of all of us are 2 dogs who
compete.. Good and BAD ...they each can win, for they are very
powerful..."
The Pioneer was impressed and asked:"So how do you know which is winning?"
The Indian replied: "The dog that will win is the Dog I choose to feed..."
-----***--------
Your conscience speaks to you of yourself- of the moral obligation you
have to make your life count.
This very moment.... while you are still a boy, you must make decisions
that will shape the rest of your life.
The way you work in school, will set the pattern for your future. Failing
a subject, may close a door forever to an opportunity later in life and
lead to regret!
Your consience speaks to you about your relationship with other people-
respecting their rights, treating them justly and giveing them a fair
chance.
Your conscience tells you to obey the laws of our country, and to respect
the property of others....
*Your conscience, loves the Bible for in it is TRUTH! this truth never
changes and sets the mark in your life for justice, fairness and right
*Just as it has for many others before you.
Matt. 7-12 "The Golden rule"
"What so ever you would like done unto you.. do it even so unto others,
for this is the Law..."
LET YOUR CONSCIENCE BE YOUR GUIDE-
*KNOW WHAT IS RIGHT...
*DO WHAT IS RIGHT...
-=a=-
(exerpts from 1959 BSA source)
-=*Jes'Shake off the dirt and take a step up! ...The MULE *=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ----****X****---- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
[EMAIL PROTECTED] - "Royal Rangers... A Lifetime Adventure."
NWOP207 For the BOYS! * For Mitch Silvers! FcF July '66
:: Duane -=A=- Wheeler * Portland,Oregon * Jesus is Lord ::
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- -----****X****---- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
DUTY is the sublimest word in our language..Do your duty in all things.
*You cannot do more- and you should never wish to do less. R.E. LEE
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Subj: [RR] DEVOTION -Old Fisherman
Date: 3/31/99 2:21:08 AM Central Standard Time
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] (Wheeler, Jennifer)
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To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] ('[EMAIL PROTECTED]')
THE OLD FISHERMAN
Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance
of John Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented
the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic. One summer evening
as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to
see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my
eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled
body.
But the appalling thing was his face-lopsided from swelling, red
and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come
to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this
morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning."
He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success,
no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face...I know it looks
terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..."
For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could
sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the
morning."
I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went
inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man
if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown
paper bag.
When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with
him a few minutes. It didn't take long time to see that this old man had an
oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a
living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was
hopelessly crippled from a back injury.
He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence
was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no
pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer.
He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going. At bedtime, we
put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the
morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the
porch.
He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as
if asking a great favor, he said, "Could I please come back and stay the
next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine
in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me
feel at home.
Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind." I told
him he was welcome to come again. And on his next trip he arrived a little
after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart
of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that
morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus
left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do
this for us.
In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a
time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his
garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special
delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach
or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk
three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the
gifts doubly precious. When I received these little remembrances, I
often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left
that first morning.
"Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away!
You can lose roomers by putting up such people!" Maybe we did lose roomers
once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their
illness' would have been easier to bear. I know our family always will be
grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the
bad without complaint.
Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse, As she showed me
her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden
chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great
surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to
myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I
had!"
My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," she explained, "and
knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind
starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put
it out in the garden." She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly,
but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially
beautiful one,"
God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old
fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body." All this happened
long ago-and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks
at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."
(1 Samuel 16:7b)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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