< RM > story - A Sense of a Goose

A Sense of a Goose

Next fall, when you see geese heading
south for the winter, flying along in "V" for-
mation, you might consider what science has
discovered as to why they fly that way. As
each bird flaps its wings, it creates an uplift
for the bird immediately following. By flying
in "V" formation, the whole flock adds at
least 71 percent greater flying range than if
each bird flew on its own.
People who share a common direction and
sense of community can get where they are
going more quickly and easily, because they
are traveling on the thrust of one another.
When a goose falls out of formation, it
suddenly feels the drag and resistance of try-
ing to go it alone and quickly gets back into
formation to take advantage of the lifting
power of the bird in front.
If we have as much sense as a goose, we
will stay in formation with those people who
are headed the same way we are. When the
head goose gets tired, it rotates back in the
wing and another goose flies point.
It is sensible to take turns doing demand-
ing jobs, whether with people or with geese
flying south.
Geese honk from behind to
encourage those up front to keep
up their speed.
What messages do we give
when we honk from behind?
Finally-and this is important-
when a goose gets sick or is
wounded by gunshot, and falls
out of formation, two other geese
fall out with that goose and follow
it down to lend help and protec-
tion. They stay with the fallen
goose until it is able to fly or until
it dies; and only then do they
launch out on their own, or with
another formation to catch up
with their group.
If we have the sense of a
goose, we will stand by each
other like that.

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< RM > story - The Window

The Window

There were once two men, both seriously
ill, in the same small room of a great hospi-
tal. Quite a small room, it had one window
looking out on the world. One of the men, as
part of his treatment, was allowed to sit up in
bed for an hour in the afternoon (something
to do with draining the fluid from his lungs).
His bed was next to the window. But the
other man had to spend all his time flat on
his back.
Every afternoon when the man next to the
window was propped up for his hour, he
would pass the time by describing what he
could see outside. The window apparently
overlooked a park where there was a lake.
There were ducks and swans in the lake, and
children came to throw them bread and sail
model boats. Young lovers walked hand in
hand beneath the trees, and there were flow-
ers and stretches of grass, games of Softball.
And at the back, behind the fringe of trees,
was a fine view of the city skyline.
The man on his back would listen to the
other man describe all of this, enjoying every
minute. He heard how a child nearly fell into
the lake, and how beautiful the girls were in
their summer dresses. His friend's descrip-
tions eventually made him feel he could
almost see what was happening outside.
Then one fine afternoon, the thought struck
him: Why should the man next to the window
have all the pleasure of seeing what was
going on? Why shouldn't he get the chance?
He felt ashamed, but the more he tried not to
think like that, the worse he wanted a
change. He'd do anything! One night as he
stared at the ceiling, the other man sudden-
ly woke up, coughing and choking, his hands
groping for the button that would bring the
nurse running. But the man watched without
moving-even when the sound of breathing
stopped. In the morning, the nurse found the
other man dead, and quietly took his body
away.
As soon as it seemed decent, the man
asked if he could be switched to the bed next
to the window. So they moved him, tucked
him in, and made him quite comfortable. The
minute they left, he propped himself up on
one elbow, painfully and laboriously, and
looked out the window. It faced a blank wall.

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< RM > story - My Father When I Was ...

My Father When I Was ...

4 years old: My daddy can do anything.
5 years old: My daddy knows a whole lot.
6 years old: My dad is smarter than your dad.
8 years old: My dad doesn't know exactly everything.
10 years old: In the olden days when my dad grew up, things were sure different.
12 years old: Oh, well, naturally, father doesn't know anything about that. He is too old to remember his childhood.
14 years old: Don't pay any attention to my father. He is so old-fashioned!
21 years old: Him? My Lord, he's hopelessly out-of-date.
25 years old: Dad knows a little bit about
it, but then he should because he has been around so long.
30 years old: Maybe we should ask Dad
what he thinks. After all, he's had a lot of experience.
35 years old: I'm not doing a single thing until I talk to Dad.
40 years old: I wonder how Dad would
have handled it. He was so wise and had a world of experience.
50 years old: I'd give anything if Dad
were here now so I could talk this over
with him. Too bad I didn't appreciate how
smart he was. I could have learned a lot from him.

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< RM > story - The Stonecutter

The Stonecutter

There was once a stonecutter who was
dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life.
One day, he passed a wealthy merchant's
house and through the open gateway saw
many fine possessions and important visi-
tors. "How powerful that merchant must
be!" thought the stonecutter. He became
very envious, and wished that he could be
like the merchant. Then he would no longer
have to live the life of a mere stonecutter.
To his great surprise, he suddenly became
the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and
power than he had ever dreamed of, envied
and detested by those less wealthy than
himself. But soon a high official passed by,
carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by
attendants, and escorted by soldiers beating
gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy,
had to bow low before the procession. "How
powerful that official is!" he thought. "I wish
that I could be a high official!"
Then he became the high official, carried
everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair,
feared and hated by the people all around,
who had to bow down before him as he
passed. It was a hot summer day, and the
official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky
sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It
shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his
presence. "How powerful the sun is!" he
thought. "I wish that I could be the sun!"
Then he became the sun, shining fiercely
down on everyone, scorching the fields,
cursed by the farmers and laborers. But a
huge black cloud moved between him and
the earth, so that his light could no longer
shine on everything below. "How powerful
that storm cloud is!" he thought. "I wish that
I could be a cloud!"
Then he became the cloud, flooding the
fields and villages, shouted at by everyone.
But soon he found that he was being pushed
away by some great force, and realized that
it was the wind. "How powerful it is!" he
thought. "I wish that I could be the wind!"
Then he became the wind, blowing tiles
off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees,
hated and feared by all below him. But after
a while, he ran up against something that
would not move, no matter how forcefully he
blew against it-a huge, towering stone. "How
powerful that stone is!" he thought. "I wish
that I could be a stone!"
Then he became the stone, more power-
ful than anything else on earth. But as he
stood there, he heard the sound of a ham-
mer pounding a chisel into the solid rock and
felt himself being changed. "What could be
more powerful than I, the stone?" he
thought. He looked down and saw far below
him the figure of a stonecutter.

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< RM > story - What's Really Important

What's Really Important

A few years ago at the Seattle Special
Olympics, nine contestants, all physically or
mentally disabled, assembled at the starting
line for the 100-yard dash. At the gun they
all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with
the relish to run the race to the finish and
win.
All, that is, except one boy who stumbled
on the asphalt, tumbled over a couple of
times, and began to cry. The other eight
heard the boy cry. They slowed down and
paused. Then they all turned around and
went back. Every one of them. One girl with
Down's syndrome bent down and kissed him
and said, "This will make it better." Then all
nine linked arms and walked together to the
finish line.
Everyone in the stadium stood, and the
cheering went on for 10 minutes.

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< RM > story - Puppies For Sale

Puppies For Sale

A storeowner was tacking a sign above his
door that read "Puppies For Sale." Signs like
that have a way of attracting small children,
and sure enough, a little boy appeared under
the storeowner's sign. "How much are you
going to sell the puppies for?" he asked.
The storeowner replied, "Anywhere from
$30 to $50."
The little boy reached in his pocket and
pulled out some change. "I have $2.37," he
said. "Can I please look at them?"
The storeowner smiled and whistled and
out of the kennel came Lady, who ran down
the aisle of his store followed by five teeny,
tiny balls of fur. One puppy was lagging con-
siderably behind. Immediately the little boy
singled out the lagging, limping puppy and
said, "What's wrong with that little dog?"
The storeowner explained that the veteri-
narian had examined the little puppy and had
discovered it didn't have a hip socket. It
would always limp. It would always be lame.
The little boy became excited. "That is the lit-
tle puppy that I want to buy."
The storeowner said, "No, you don't want
to buy that little dog. If you really want him,
I'll  just give him to you." The little boy got
quite upset. He looked straight into the
storeowner's eyes, pointing his finger, and
said, "I don't want you to give him to me.
That little dog is worth every bit as much as
all the other dogs and I'll pay full price. In
fact, I'll give you $2.37 now, and 50 cents a
month until I have him paid for."
The storeowner countered, "You really
don't want to buy this little dog. He is never
going to be able to run and jump and play
with you like the other puppies."
To this, the little boy reached down and
rolled up his pant leg to reveal a badly twist-
ed, crippled left leg supported by a big metal
brace. He looked up at the storeowner and
softly replied, "Well, I don't run so well
myself, and the little puppy will need some-
one who understands!"

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< RM > story - Difference

Difference

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon in
Oklahoma City. My friend and proud father
Bobby Lewis was taking his two little boys to
play miniature golf. He walked up to the fel-
low at the ticket counter and said, "How
much is it to get in?"
The young man replied, "$3.00 for you
and $3.00 for any kid who is older than six.
We let them in free if they are six or younger.
How old are they?"
Bobby replied, "The lawyer's three and the
doctor is seven, so I guess I owe you $6.00."
The man at the ticket counter said, "Hey,
Mister, did you just win the lottery or some-
thing? You could have saved yourself three
bucks. You could have told me that the older
one was six; I wouldn't have known the dif-
ference." Bobby replied, "Yes, that may be
true, but the kids would have known the difference."

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< RM > story - Two Brothers

Two Brothers

Two brothers worked together on the
family farm. One was married and had a
large family. The other was single. At the
day's end, the brothers shared everything
equally, produce and profit.
Then one day the single brother said to
himself, "It's not right that we should share
equally the produce and the profit. I'm alone
and my needs are simple." So each night he
took a sack of grain from his bin and crept
across the field between their houses,
dumping it into his brother's bin.
Meanwhile, the married brother said to
himself, "It's not right that we should share
the produce and the profit equally. After all,
I'm married and I have my wife and children
who can look after me in years to
come. My brother has no one, and
no one to take care of his future." So
each night he took a sack of grain
and dumped it into his single brother's bin.
Both men were puzzled for
years because their supply of
grain never dwindled. Then one
dark night the two brothers
bumped into each other. Slowly it
dawned on them what was hap-
pening. They dropped their
sacks and embraced one another.

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< RM > story - A Life Worth Saving

A Life Worth Saving

A man risked his life by swimming
through the treacherous riptide to save a
youngster being swept out to sea. After the
child recovered from the harrowing experi-
ence, he said to the man, "Thank you for
saving my life."
The man looked into the boy's eyes and
said, "That's okay, kid. Just make sure your
life was worth saving."

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< RM > story - Rescue at Sea

Rescue at Sea

Years ago, in a small fishing village in
Holland, a young boy taught the world about
the rewards of unselfish service. Because
the entire village revolved around the fishing
industry, a volunteer rescue team was need-
ed in cases of emergency. One night the
winds raged, the clouds burst and a gale
force storm capsized a fishing boat at sea.
Stranded and in trouble, the crew sent out
the S.O.S. The captain of the rescue rowboat
team sounded the alarm and the villagers
assembled in the town square overlooking
the bay. While the team launched their row-
boat and fought their way through the wild
waves, the villagers waited restlessly on the
beach, holding lanterns to light the way
back.
An hour later, the rescue boat reappeared
through the fog and the cheering villagers
ran to greet them. Falling exhausted on the
sand, the volunteers reported that the res-
cue boat could not hold any more passen-
gers and they had to leave one man behind.
Even one more passenger would have sure-
ly capsized the rescue boat and all would
have been lost.
Frantically, the captain called for another
volunteer team to go after the lone survivor.
Sixteen-year-old Hans stepped forward. His
mother grabbed his arm, pleading, "Please
don't go. Your father died in a shipwreck 10
years ago and your older brother, Paul, has
been lost at sea for three weeks. Hans, you
are all I have left."
Hans replied, "Mother, I have to go. What
if everyone said, 'I can't go, let someone
else do it'? Mother, this time I have to do my
duty. When the call for service comes, we all
need to take our turn and do our part." Hans
kissed his mother, joined the team and dis-
appeared into the night.
Another hour passed, which seemed to
Hans' mother like an eternity. Finally, the
rescue boat darted through the fog with
Hans standing up in the bow. Cupping his
hands, the captain called, "Did you find the
lost man?" Barely able to contain himself,
Hans excitedly yelled back, "Yes, we found
him. Tell my mother it's my older brother,
Paul!"

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< RM > story - Start With Yourself

Start With Yourself

The following words were written on the
tomb of an Anglican Bishop in the Crypts of
Westminister Abbey:
When I was young and free and my imag-
ination had no limits, I dreamed of changing
the world. As I grew older and wiser, I dis-
covered the world would not change, so I
shortened my sights somewhat and decided
to change only my country.
But it, too, seemed immovable.
As I grew into my twilight years, in one
last desperate attempt, I settled for changing
only my family, those closest to me, but alas,
they would have none of it.
And now as I lie on my deathbed, I sud-
denly realize: If I had only changed my self
first, then by example I would have changed
my family.
From their inspiration and encourage-
ment, I would then have been able to better
my country and, who knows, I may have
even changed the world.

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< RM > story - Bag Lady

Bag Lady

She used to sleep in the Fifth Street Post
Office. I could smell her before I rounded the
entrance to where she slept, standing up, by
the public phones. I smelled the urine that
seeped through the layers of her dirty cloth-
ing and the decay from her nearly toothless
mouth. If she was not asleep, she mumbled
incoherently.
Now they close the post office at six to
keep the homeless out, so she curls up on
the sidewalk, talking to herself, her mouth
flapping open as though unhinged, her
smells diminished by the soft breeze.
One Thanksgiving we had so much food
left over, I packed it up, excused myself from
the others and drove over to Fifth Street.
It was a frigid night. Leaves were swirling
around the streets and hardly anyone was
out, all but a few of the luckless in some
warm home or shelter. But I knew I would
find her.
She was dressed as she always was, even
in summer: The warm woolly layers conceal-
ing her old, bent body. Her bony hands
clutched the precious shopping cart. She was
squatting against a wire fence in front of the
playground next to the post office. "Why did-
n't she choose some place more protected
from the wind?" I thought, and assumed she
was so crazy she did not have the sense to
huddle in a doorway.
I pulled my shiny car to the curb, rolled
down the window and said, "Mother . . .
would you . . ." and was shocked at the word
"Mother." But she was . . . is ... in some way
I cannot grasp.
I said, again, "Mother, I've brought you
some food. Would you like some turkey and
stuffing and apple pie?
At this the old woman looked at me and
said quite clearly and distinctly, her two loose
lower teeth wobbling as she spoke, "Oh,
thank you very much, but I'm quite full now.
Why don't you take it to someone who really
needs it?" Her words were clear, her manners
gracious. Then I was dismissed: Her head
sank into her rags again.

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< RM > story - Great Value in Disaster

Great Value in Disaster

Thomas Edison's laboratory was virtually
destroyed by fire in December 1914.
Although the damage exceeded $2 million,
the buildings were only insured for $238,000
because they were made of concrete and
thought to be fireproof. Much of Edison's
life's work went up in spectacular flames that
December night.
At the height of the fire, Edison's 24-year-
old son, Charles, frantically searched for his
father among the smoke and debris. He final-
ly found him, calmly watching the scene, his
face glowing in the reflection, his white hair
blowing in the wind.
"My heart ached for him," said Charles.
"He was 67-no longer a young man-and
everything was going up in flames. When he
saw me, he shouted, 'Charles, where's your
mother?' When I told him I didn't know, he
said, 'Find her. Bring her here. She will never
see anything like this as long as she lives.'"
The next morning, Edison looked at the
ruins and said, "There is great value in dis-
aster. All our mistakes are burned up. Thank
God we can start a new." Three weeks after
the fire Edison managed to deliver his first
phonograph.

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< RM > story - Abraham Lincoln Didn't Quit

Abraham Lincoln Didn't Quit

Probably the greatest example of persist-
ence is Abraham Lincoln. If you want to learn
about somebody who didn't quit, look no fur-
ther. Born into poverty, Lincoln was faced
with defeat throughout his life. He lost eight
elections, twice failed in business and suf-
fered a nervous breakdown. He could have
quit many times - but he didn't and because
he didn't quit, he became one of the greatest
presidents in the history of our country
Lincoln was a champion and he never gave
up.
Here is a sketch of Lincoln's road to the
White House:
1816: His family was forced out of their
home. He had to work to support them.
1818: His mother died.
1831: Failed in business.
1832: Ran for state legislature - lost.
1832: Also lost his job - wanted to go to
law school but couldn't get in.
1833: Borrowed some money from a
friend to begin a business and by the end o
the year he was bankrupt. He spent the next
17 years of his life paying off this debt.
1834: Ran for state legislature again -
won.
1835: Was engaged to be married, sweet-
heart died and his heart was broken.
1836: Had a total nervous breakdown and
was in bed for six months.
1838: Sought to become speaker of the
state legislature - defeated.
1840: Sought to become elector - defeat-
ed.
1843: Ran for Congress
- lost.
1846: Ran for Congress
again - this time he won -
went to Washington and did
a good job.
1848: Ran for re-election
to Congress - lost.
1849: Sought the job of
land officer in his home state -
rejected.
1854: Ran for Senate of the
United States - lost.
1856: Sought the Vice-
Presidential nomination at his
party's national convention - got
less than 100 votes.
1858: Ran for U.S. Senate
again - again he lost.
1860: Elected president of the
United States.

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< RM > story - The House of 1000 Mirrors

The House of 1000 Mirrors

Long ago in a small, far away village,
there was place known as the House of 1000
Mirrors. A small, happy little dog learned of
this place and decided to visit. When he
arrived, he bounced happily up the stairs to
the doorway of the house. He looked through
the doorway with his ears lifted high and his
tail wagging as fast as it could. To his great
surprise, he found himself staring at 1000
other happy little dogs with their tails wag-
ging just as fast as his. He smiled a great
smile, and was answered with 1000 great
smiles just as warm and friendly. As he left
the House, he thought to himself, "This is a
wonderful place. I will come back and visit it
often."
In this same village, another little dog,
who was not quite as happy as the first one,
decided to visit the house. He slowly climbed
the stairs and hung his head low as he looked
into the door. When he saw the 1000
unfriendly looking dogs staring back at him,
he growled at them and was horrified to see
1000 little dogs growling back at him. As he
left, he thought to himself, "That is a horrible
place, and I will never go back there again."
All the faces in the world are mirrors.
What kind of reflections do you see in the
faces of the people you meet?

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< RM > story - The Father and his sons

The Father and his sons

A father had a family of sons who were
perpetually quarreling among themselves.
When he failed to heal their disputes by his
exhortations, he determined to give them a
practical illustration of the evils of disunion;
and for this purpose he one day told them to
bring him a bundle of sticks. When they had
done so, he placed the faggot into the hands
of each of them in succession, and ordered
them to break it in pieces. They tried with all
their strength, and were not able to do it. He
next opened the faggot, took the
sticks separately, one by one, and
again put them into his sons' hands, upon
which they broke them easily. He then
addressed them in these words: "My sons, if
you are of one mind, and unite to assist each
other, you will be as this faggot, uninjured by
all the attempts of your enemies; but if you
are divided among yourselves, you will be
broken as easily as these sticks."

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< RM > story - Don't Change the World

Don't Change the World

Once upon a time, there was a king who
ruled a prosperous country. One day, he went
for a trip to some distant areas of his coun-
try. When he was back to his palace, he com-
plained that his feet were very painful,
because it was the first time that he went for
such a long trip, and the road that he went
through was very rough and stony. He then
ordered his people to cover every road of the
entire country with leather. Definitely, this
would need thousands of cows' skin, and
would cost a huge amount of money.
Then one of his wise servants dared him-
self to tell the king, "Why do you have to
spend that unnecessary amount of money?
Why don't you just cut a little piece of leather
to cover your feet?"
The king was surprised, but he later
agreed to his suggestion, to make a "shoe"
for himself.
There is actually a valuable lesson of life in
this story: to make this world a happy place
to live, you better change yourself - your
heart; and not the world.

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< RM > story - Blurred Vision

Blurred Vision

A businessman was highly critical of his
competitors' storefront windows. "Why, they
are the dirtiest windows in town," he
claimed. Fellow business people grew tired of
the man's continual criticism and nitpicking
comments about the windows. One day over
coffee, the businessman carried the subject
just too far.
Before leaving, a fellow store owner sug-
gested the man get his own windows
washed. He followed the advice, and the next
day at coffee, he exclaimed, "I can't believe
it. As soon as I washed my windows, my
competitor must have cleaned his too. You
should see them shine."
Confucius once declared, "Don't complain
about the snow on your neighbor's roof when
your own doorstep is unclean."

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< RM > story - The Rebellion Against the Stomach

The Rebellion Against the Stomach

Once a man had a dream in which his
hands and feet and mouth and brain all
began to rebel against his stomach.
"You good-for-nothing sluggard!" the
hands said. "We work all day long, sawing
and hammering and lifting and carrying. By
evening we're covered with blisters and
scratches, and our joints ache, and we're
covered with dirt. And meanwhile you just sit
there, hogging all the food."
"We agree!" cried the feet. "Think how
sore we get, walking back and forth all day
long. And you just stuff yourself full, you
greedy pig, so that you're that much heavier
to carry about."
"That's right!" whined the mouth. "Where
do you think all that food you love comes
form? I'm the one who has to chew it all up,
and as soon as I'm finished you suck it all
down for yourself. Do you call that fair?"
"And what about me?" called the brain.
"Do you think it's easy being up here, having
to think about where your next meal is going
to come from? And yet I get nothing at all for
my pains."
And one by one the parts of the body
joined the complaint against the stomach,
which didn't say anything at all.
"I have an idea," the brain finally
announced. "Let's all rebel against the lazy
belly, and stop working for it."
"Superb idea!" all the other members and
organs agreed. "We'll teach you how impor-
tant we are, you pig. Then maybe you'll do a
little work of your own."
So they all stopped working. The hands
refused to do lifting and carrying. The feet
refused to walk. The mouth promised not to
chew or swallow a single bite. And the brain
swore it wouldn't come up with any more
bright ideas. At first the stomach growled a
bit, as it always did when it was hungry. But
after a while it was quiet.
Then, to the dreaming man's surprise, he
found he could not walk. He could not grasp
anything in his hand. He could not even open
his mouth. And he suddenly began to feel
rather ill.
The dream seemed to go on for several
days. As each day passed, the man felt
worse and worse. "This rebellion had better
not last much longer," he thought to himself,
"or I'll starve."
Meanwhile, the hands and feet and mouth
and brain just lay there, getting weaker and
weaker. At first they roused themselves just
enough to taunt the stomach every once in a
while, but before long they didn't even have
the energy for that.
Finally the man heard a faint voice coming
from the direction of his feet.
"It could be that we were wrong," they
were saying. "We suppose the stomach
might have been working in his own way all
along."
"I was just thinking the same thing," mur-
mured the brain. "It's true that he's been
getting all the food. But it seems he's been
sending most of it right back to us."
"We might as well admit our error," the
mouth said. "The stomach has
just as much work to do as the
hands and feet and brain and
teeth."
"Then let's get back to work,"
they cried together. And at that
the man woke up.
To his relief, he discovered
his feet could walk again. His
hands could grasp, his mouth
could chew, and his brain could
now think clearly. He began to
feel much better.
"Well, there's a lesson for
me," he thought as he filled his
stomach at breakfast. "Either
we all work together, or nothing
works at all."

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< RM > story - The Ants and the Grasshopper

The Ants and the Grasshopper

The Ants were spending a fine win-
ter's day drying grain collected in the
summertime. A Grasshopper, perish-
ing with famine, passed by and
earnestly begged for a little food. The
Ants inquired of him, "Why did you
not treasure up food during the sum-
mer?' He replied, "I had not leisure
enough. I passed the days in singing."
They then said in derision: "If you
were foolish enough to sing all the
summer, you must dance supperless
to bed in the winter."

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