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  • #16
    The Hand

    Thanksgiving Day was near. The first grade teacher gave her class a fun assignment — to draw a picture of something for which they were thankful.

    Most of the class might be considered economically disadvantaged, but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey and other traditional goodies of the season. These, the teacher thought, would be the subjects of most of her student’s art. And they were.

    But Douglas made a different kind of picture.

    Douglas was a different kind of boy. He was the teacher’s true child of misery, frail and unhappy. As other children played at recess, Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess at the pain Douglas felt behind those sad eyes.

    Yes, his picture was different. When asked to draw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just an empty hand.

    His abstract image captured the imagination of his peers. Whose hand could it be One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because farmers raise turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because the police protect and care for people. Still others guessed it was the hand of God, for God feeds us. And so the discussion went — until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.

    When the children had gone on to other assignments, she paused at Douglas’ desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was.

    The little boy looked away and muttered, It’s yours, teacher.

    She recalled the times she had taken his hand and walked with him here or there, as she had the other students. How often had she said, Take my hand, Douglas, we’ll go outside. Or, Let me show you how to hold your pencil. Or, Let’s do this together. Douglas was most thankful for his teacher’s hand.

    Brushing aside a tear, she went on with her work.

    This story speaks of more than thankfulness. It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing friendship, and how much it means to the Douglases of the world. They might not always say thanks. But they’ll remember the hand that reaches out.

    Comment


    • #17
      Abraham Lincoln First Day in Office

      Abraham Lincoln entered to give his inaugural address, one man stood up. He was a rich Aristocrat. He said, “Mr. Lincoln, you should not forget that your father used to make shoes for my family.”

      And the whole Senate laughed; they thought they had made a fool of Lincoln.

      But certain people are made of a totally different mettle. Lincoln looked at the man directly in the eye and said, “Sir, I know that my father used to make shoes for your family, and there will be many others here. Because he made shoes the way nobody else can, he was a creator. His shoes were not just shoes; he poured his whole soul into them. I want to ask you, have you any complaint? Because I know how to make shoes myself. If you have any complaint I can make you another pair of shoes. But as far as I know, nobody has ever complained about my father’s shoes. He was a genius, a great creator and I am proud of my father”.

      The whole Senate was struck dumb. They could not understand what kind of man Abraham Lincoln was. He was proud because his father did his job so well that not even a single complaint had ever been heard.

      Remember:

      “No one can hurt you without your consent.”

      “It is not what happens to us that hurts us. It is our response that hurts us.

      Be excellent at your work no matter what work you do, happiness is always yours.”

      Comment


      • #18
        “Great Is Thy Faithfulness”

        The Story Behind the Hymn


        Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning, great is Your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, ‘Therefore I hope in Him!” Lamentations 3:22-24

        You don’t need to be rescued from life-threatening danger or see God’s miraculous provision in the direst of financial crises to truly know the faithfulness of the Lord. God remains faithful day in and day out in the largest and smallest of circumstances.

        Thomas Chisholm wrote “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” as a testament to God’s faithfulness through his very ordinary life.

        Born in a log cabin in Franklin, Kentucky, Chisholm became a Christian when he was twenty-seven and entered the ministry when he was thirty-six, though poor health forced him to retire after just one year. During the rest of his life, Chisholm spent many years living in New Jersey and working as a life insurance agent. Still, even with a desk job, he wrote nearly 1,200 poems throughout his life, including several published hymns.

        Chisholm explained toward the end of his life, “My income has not been large at any time due to impaired health in the earlier years which has followed me on until now. Although I must not fail to record here the unfailing faithfulness of a covenant-keeping God and that He has given me many wonderful displays of His providing care, for which I am filled with astonishing gratefulness.”

        Just think, with each new day, God gives us the chance to prove His faithfulness. And throughout history, He’s never once been proven wrong, for His mercies are new every morning, no matter what.

        Comment


        • #19
          Teddy Stoddard

          As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth.

          Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

          Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.

          It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.

          At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

          Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners ... he is a joy to be around."

          His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."

          His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

          Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."

          By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thomson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left, she cried for at least an hour.

          On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."

          A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

          Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

          Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

          Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD .

          The story does not end there.

          You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.

          Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

          They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you, Mrs. Thompson, for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."

          Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

          Warm someone's heart today … pass this along. Just try to make a difference in someone's life today … tomorrow … just do it.

          Random acts of kindness, I think they call it?

          "Believe in angels, then return the favor."

          Comment


          • #20
            A Child’s Prayer

            Dear God, are You still awake?
            Have You got a minute or two?

            You’re pretty good at understanding,
            And I really need to talk to You.

            You see, Mommy came to tuck me in,
            Like she does every night.
            I was trying to play a trick on her,
            Since she can’t see without the light.

            I was going to close my eyes
            And pretend to be asleep.
            But when I heard her crying,
            I didn’t dare let out a peep.

            She started talking to you, God.
            Did You hear the things she said?
            Could You hear what she was saying
            As she stood beside my bed?

            Why would Mommy be so sad?
            I wondered just what I had done,
            And then I began to remember
            it all As she named them one by one…

            This morning we worked in the garden,
            But, honest, I really didn’t know
            That if I picked all those little yellow blooms
            The tomatoes wouldn’t grow!

            Charlie and I were trying to be helpers,
            'Cause I know that’s what Mommy needs,
            But I don’t think she was too happy with us
            when we pulled up carrots instead of weeds.

            Mommy said we should stop for the day,
            she decided we had helped quite enough.
            I sure had worked up an appetite…
            I didn’t know gardening was so tough!

            we had peanut-butter and jelly for lunch
            and I shared too much, I guess…
            But I didn’t realize until I was done
            that Charlie had made such a mess.

            Mommy said she needed a nap,
            she had one of her headaches today.
            She told me to keep an eye on my sister
            and find something quiet to play.

            Well, God, do You remember all those curls
            you gave my little sister Jenny?
            We played barber shop…very quietly…
            and now, well, she doesn’t have any.

            Boy, was Mommy mad at me…
            I had to go sit on my bed.
            She said never to cut “people hair” again.
            I guess I’ll practice on Charlie instead.

            We sat and watched poor old Albert,
            I just knew he must be so bored
            Going round and round
            in the same place all day,
            Wouldn’t You think so, Lord?

            I didn’t think it would hurt
            to let him out for a while.
            I mean, mice need exercise, too.
            By the way, have You seen Albert lately?
            He’s been sort of missing since two.

            Mommy sent us outside for the rest of the day.
            She said we needed fresh air.
            But when Daddy came home she told him
            he was trying to get something out of her hair.

            We thought Mommy needed cheering up,
            so we decided to brighten her day.
            But, God, did You see the look on her face
            When we gave her that pretty bouquet?

            We had gotten a little bit dirty,
            so Mommy said to get in the tub.
            “Use soap this time,” she reminded,
            “and please don’t forget to scrub.”

            Charlie didn’t like the water too much,
            but I lathered up real good.
            I knew Mommy would be so proud of me
            For cleaning up like I should.

            I went downstairs to the table,
            but during dinner it started to rain…
            I’d forgotten to turn off the water, it seems,
            and I hadn’t unplugged the drain!

            I decided right then it was just about time
            to start getting ready for bed,
            When Mommy said, "It’s sure been a long day,
            " And her face began turning all red.

            I lay there listening to Mommy
            as she told You about our day.
            I thought about all of the things I had done
            and I wondered what I should say.

            I was just about to tell her
            that I’d been awake all along,
            And ask her to please forgive me
            for all of those thing I’d done wrong.

            When suddenly, I heard her whisper,
            "God, forgive me for today…
            For not being more understanding
            when those problems came my way…

            For not handling situations in the way
            You wanted me to…for getting angry
            and losing my temper,
            Things I know You don’t want me to do.

            And, God, please give me more patience,
            Help me make it through another day,
            I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise…
            "In Jesus’ name I pray."

            Wiping her eyes, she kissed me
            and knelt here beside my bed.
            She stroked my hair for a little while…"
            I love you, precious," Mommy said.

            She left the room without ever knowing
            That I’d been awake all the time.
            And God, could we make it our little secret?
            You know, just Yours and mine?

            I’m sorry I was so much trouble today,
            I really didn’t mean to be…
            Daddy says it’s tough being a kid sometimes,
            but I think it’s harder on Mommy than me.

            Well, goodnight, God. Thanks for listening.
            It’s sure nice to know You’re there.
            I feel so much better when I talk to You
            'cause You always hear my prayer.

            And I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise…
            Just You wait and see!
            I’ll try not to be so much trouble again,
            But, God,
            please give more patience to Mommy
            …Just in case! Amen.

            Comment


            • #21
              The House with the Golden Windows

              A little girl lived in a small, very simple, poor house on a hill.

              She loved to play in the small garden. As she grew up, she was able to see over the garden fence and across the valley to a wonderful house high on the hill. This house had golden windows, so golden and shining that the little girl would dream of how magic it would be to grow up and live in a house with golden windows instead of an ordinary house like hers.

              And although she loved her parents and her family, she yearned to live in such a golden house and dreamed all day about how wonderful and exciting it must feel to live there.

              When she got to an age where she gained enough skill and sensibility to go outside her garden fence, she asked her mother if she could go for a bike ride outside the gate and down the lane. After pleading with her, her mother finally agreed, insisting that she kept close to the house and didn't wander too far.

              The day was beautiful and the little girl knew exactly where she was heading! Down the lane and across the valley, she rode her bike until she got to the gate of the golden house across on the other hill.

              As she dismounted her bike and lent it against the gate post, she focused on the path that lead to the house and then on the house itself... And was so disappointed as she realized all the windows were plain and rather dirty, reflecting nothing other than the sad neglect of the house that stood derelict.

              So sad that she didn't go any further and turned, heart broken as she remounted her bike ... As she glanced up she saw a sight to amaze her... There, across the way on her side of the valley was a little house and its windows glistened golden ... as the sun shone on her little home.

              She realized that she had been living in her golden house and all the love and care she found there was what made her home the 'golden house'.

              Everything she dreamed was right there in front of her nose!

              Comment


              • #22
                No hope.

                As a group of frogs was traveling through the woods, two of them fell into a deep pit. When the other frogs crowded around the pit and saw how deep it was, they told the two frogs that there was no hope left for them.

                However, the two frogs decided to ignore what the others were saying and they proceeded to try and jump out of the pit.

                Despite their efforts, the group of frogs at the top of the pit were still saying that they should just give up. That they would never make it out.

                Eventually, one of the frogs took heed to what the others were saying and he gave up, falling down to his death. The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die.

                He jumped even harder and finally made it out. When he got out, the other frogs said, “Did you not hear us?”

                The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the entire time.

                Moral of the story=

                People’s words can have a big effect on other’s lives. Think about what you say before it comes out of your mouth. It might just be the difference between life and death.

                Comment


                • #23
                  I was in my 30's, and had ended up losing everything, lost my family due to tragic circumstance, ended up with two types of cancer, and was homeless ( I had basically just given up on life).

                  I had decided that cancer was my death sentence and had relegated myself to living in the woods ( Bad choice, it turned out to be the coldest winter on record in my area for 30 years ).

                  One day, I had a few dollars in my pocket, ( Literally ) and I schlepped down to McD's ( Something I normally avoid like the plague ) because I had gotten tired of crawling into dumpsters looking for food.

                  I bought several burgers, and as I sat in the corner, observing the lunchtime crowd come and go, I noticed a man come in, and go from person to person, engaging each in a short conversation then moving to the next.

                  He was trying to sell some posters he had hand drawn, but there were no takers.

                  He looked over, saw me watching, then came over to give me his sales pitch. I calmly listened to his pitch, which was essentially " I'm hungry, I'm trying to sell these so I can get some food. "

                  Now,... I am well familiar with the rough life of being homeless, as not only was I myself homeless at the time, I had spent most of my teen years on the streets, hooked on drugs, being a hellion child, etc, but ,..I also know that due to outreach programs, churches, and food banks, that even if one is homeless in my town, 3 squares a day is easily had for free, so there's no reason to sell things to eat.

                  So, I just gave him 2 burgers, which he sat down and inhaled, and after he was finished, I asked what his story was, how he'd ended up in this situation ( I hadn't told him I was also not doing great ), and he told a tale I've seen and lived firsthand, and that is an addiction to crack ( My teen years ).

                  He had been a successful contractor, had his own business, 20 or so employees, married, kids, and had lost it all in a few short months.

                  I felt so bad for this man, because I knew what it was like to end up at the bottom, so I in turn told him my story, I admitted to being homeless, sick, etc, and for some reason he was just shocked that I would have given him 2/3 of my food when I myself was scraping bottom.

                  We sat and talked for some time, perhaps 45 minutes, and he told me of wanting to get his life back together, and wanting to go to school to become an architect, I wished him luck and we parted ways.

                  I trundled back to my little shelter I had built in the woods, and as I sat there, looking out of the doorway and watching the birds eat ( I always feed the birds ), I started to think about what was in front of me.

                  Little tiny fragile birds, walking around in the snow, in temperatures that were about -10f ....I was partially frozen, yet these little birds were hopping around, happily chirping, seemingly without a care in the world, oblivious to the harsh environment I found myself surrounded by.

                  I thought to myself, " That's true grit right there, why am I not as tough as a little bird ? "

                  Then, slowly, the birds had their fill and embarked on their daily flights, leaving me to my silence, but more importantly, the question in my mind.

                  As I pondered, one small sparrow landed in front of me to feed, and I immediately thought it odd, as these birds usually travel in groups, with family and friends.

                  This particular sparrow, had a deformity, a club foot, and was basically hobbling around with one foot, and had been ostracized from it's community ( Common with animals in the wild when one has a deformity ).

                  Realistically, in the wild, animals that have deformities / injuries don't fare that well, they end up being eaten, or die from their inability to feed themselves.

                  Then, I thought " Why am I not as tough as THAT sparrow ? ", because that was the one I really identified with.

                  This was the day when I decided I could not give up.

                  It took several months to eventually find two jobs, then maintain them all the while keeping it a secret that I was living in the woods, had cancer, etc.

                  I just kept my nose to the wheel and moved on, always remembering that one sparrow.

                  Now during this time of trying to get it back together, I would occasionally run into the man I met in McDonalds, in the library, where he would come to study ( He had found a residence, gotten stable, then entered school to become an architect ) and every few weeks I would run into him in the library.

                  I eventually regained my hold on life, and the last time I ran into him, he had just become a certified architect and was getting back together with his family

                  All that from a few cheap hamburgers and a crippled sparrow, who would have thunk it.

                  Comment


                  • #24
                    "That's Right, God Doesn't Exist."

                    When they eventually touched on the subject of God, Mike said: 'I don't believe that God exists.'

                    "Why do you say that?" asked Bill.

                    "Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist. Tell me Bill, if God exists, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain. I can't imagine a loving God who would allow all of these things."

                    Bill thought for a moment, but didn't respond because he didn't want to start an argument. Mike finished his barbering job and Bill left the shop. Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard. He looked dirty and unkempt.

                    Bill turned back and entered the barbershop again and he said to Mike, the barber:

                    "You know what? Barbers do not exist."


                    "How can you say that?' asked the surprised barber. "I am here, and I am a barber. And I just worked on you!"

                    "No!" Bill exclaimed.

                    "'Barbers don't exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside."

                    "Ah, but barbers do exist! That's what happens when people do not come to me."

                    "Exactly!' Bill affirmed.

                    "That's the point! God, too, does exist! And that's what happens when people do not come to God too."

                    Comment


                    • #25
                      Never Give Up.

                      “Never give up.” It’s probably one of the most cliché phrases you’ll hear as you’re building your career. But there’s a reason these sayings are clichés—you never know when success really does lie around the next corner.

                      We know believing that is easier said than done, so we collected the following stories of famous celebrities who definitely never gave up, including Sarah Jessica Parker, Stephen King, and J.K. Rowling, for starters.

                      All these folks are now household names, but they didn’t become one easily. Some lived in their car, others suffered family abuse, and almost all encountered rejection after rejection professionally and personally—before finally landing a foot in the door. Read on and get inspired!


                      https://www.themuse.com/advice/9-fam...-never-give-up

                      Comment


                      • #26
                        Martha Mason

                        Martha Mason graduated valedictorian of her high school and earned two college degrees at the top of the class—all while living her life in an iron lung.

                        Paralyzed by polio at age 11 in 1948 and confined 23 hours a day in an immobile, 800-pound horizontal tube, the voracious reader stayed “endlessly curious”—and amazingly adaptable.

                        Custom-built intercoms connected her to school and made her a “regular member” in her classes, with the technology helping her from high school through Wake Forest College (now University), where the English major arrived at her dorm room in a bakery truck.

                        By the time she died in 2009, Mason had been in the iron lung for a record-setting 60 years. “Something happens to all of us,” she said in a documentary about her.

                        “Mine is more visible than yours, but you have to deal with your things, too. None of us are exempt from things that would make us extraordinary people if the world knew the story.”

                        Comment


                        • #27
                          The Eagle Story

                          Someone once told me a story about a wounded eagle who was rescued by a kindly farmer. He found the bird in one of his fields, and so took him home, tended to his wounds, and then placed him outside in the barnyard to recover.

                          Strangely enough, the young eaglet soon adapted to the habits of all the barnyard chickens. He learned to walk and cluck like them. He learned to drink from a trough and peck the dirt for food, and for many years he peacefully resigned himself to this new life on the ground.

                          But then one day, one of the farmer’s friends spotted the eagle and asked, “Why in the world is that bird acting like a chicken?” The farmer told him what had happened, yet the man could hardly accept the situation.

                          “It’s just not right,” said the friend. “The Creator made that bird to soar in the heavens, not scavenge in the barnyard!”

                          So he picked up the unsuspecting eagle, climbed onto a nearby fence post, and tossed him into the air. But the confused bird just fell back to earth and scurried off in search of his feathered friends.

                          -Continued below-

                          https://kingshighway.org/inspiration...d_times/eagle/

                          Comment


                          • #28



                            The Wranglers & Stranglers

                            Many years ago there were a group of brilliant young men at the University of Wisconsin. The group of men seemed to have an amazing creative literary talent and were extraordinary in their ability to put their literary skills to its best use. These promising young men met regularly to read and critique each other’s literary works.

                            These men were merciless while they criticized one another.

                            They dissected the most minute of the expressions and offered tough and even mean criticism to each others work. Their meeting sessions became arenas of literary criticism and the members of this exclusive club called themselves the “Stranglers.”

                            Not to be excluded to the opportunity to level up there literary skills, the women of literary interest in the university started a club of their own, one comparable to Stranglers. The members called themselves the “ Wranglers.” The members of the club too presented their literary pieces in front of each another. But the feedback from the members were much more softer, more positive and more encouraging. Every effort from a member, even the most feeble one, was encouraged by all.

                            After twenty years, a university alumnus was doing a study of his classmates’ career when he noticed a large difference in the literary accomplishments of the Stranglers and the Wranglers.

                            Among all the brilliant young men in the strangler, none had made any significant literary achievement. But the Wranglers had several successful writers and some renowned national literary talents.

                            The talent and the education between the two groups were almost the same. There were not much difference. The Stranglers strangled each other while the Wranglers gave each other a lift. The stranglers created atmosphere of contention and self doubt while the Wranglers brought out the best in each other.

                            https://alltimeshortstories.com/wran...nd-stranglers/

                            Comment


                            • #29
                              There once was a man who fell into a pit.

                              A pessimist walked by and said: You will never get out of that pit.

                              An optimist walked by and said: You will get out of that pit.

                              A judgmental person yelled down as he walked away: If you were watching where you were going, you would not have fallen into a pit.

                              A Pharisee sneered while walking past and said: God will judge you for falling in that pit.

                              A tax collector said: You have to pay taxes on that pit.

                              Someone laughed while walking by, someone shed a tear while walking by and Jesus stopped and lifted him out.

                              Comment


                              • #30
                                How do you want to be remembered?

                                More than a decade ago, a man was reading his morning newspaper. To his surprise and horror, he read his name in the obituary column. The news papers had mistakenly reported the death of the wrong person for sure. He was shocked to read news headline about his death.

                                When he regained his composure, He read it to find out what people had said about him.

                                The obituary included sentences like, “Dynamite King Dies.” and “He was the merchant of death.”. The man was the inventor of dynamite and when he read the words “merchant of death,” he asked himself a question,

                                “Is this how I am going to be remembered?” he asked himself. He decided that this was not the way he wanted to be remembered and he decided to change.

                                From that day on, he started working toward world peace. His name was Alfred Nobel and he is remembered today by the great Nobel Prize, the greatest of all the prizes.

                                The Nobel Prize has been honoring men and women from all corners of the globe for outstanding achievements in physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and for work in peace since 1901.

                                The foundations for the prize were laid in 1895 when Alfred Nobel wrote his last will, leaving much of his wealth to the establishment of the Nobel Prize.

                                https://alltimeshortstories.com/how-...be-remembered/

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