The Old Man and the Dog

By Catherine Moore

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?" Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle. "I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving."

My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him? Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his powers. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man. Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived... But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read.. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention.. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog "Can you tell me about him?"

The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.." He gestured helplessly. As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?" "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog." I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said.. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long

hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed.. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind. The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it." "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article.... Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. .. ..his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

The Teacher
Stories like this, always have a way of putting the right perspective on life. Jean Thompson stood in front of her fifth-grade class on the very first day of school in the fall and told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her pupils and said that she loved them all the same, that she would treat them all alike. And that was impossible because there in front of her, slumped in his seat on the third row, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard. Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed he didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were unkept and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy was unpleasant. It got to the point during the first few months that she would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then marking the F at the top of the paper biggest of all. Because Teddy was a sullen little boy, no one else seemed to enjoy him, either. At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's records and put Teddy's off until last. When she opened his file, she was in for a surprise. His first-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright, inquisitive 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, "Teddy continues to work hard but 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 sometimes sleeps in class. He is tardy and could become a problem." By now Mrs. Thompson realized the problem, but Christmas was coming fast. It was all she could do, with the school play and all, until the day before the holidays began and she was suddenly forced to focus on Teddy Stoddard. Her children brought her presents, all in beautiful ribbon and bright paper, except for Teddy's, which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper of a scissored 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 cologne. She stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the

perfume behind the other wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed behind just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, 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 speaking. Instead, she began to teach children. Jean Thompson paid particular attention to one they all called "Teddy." As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. On days where there would be an important test, Mrs. Thompson would remember that cologne. By the end of the year he had become one of the smartest children in the class and...well, he had also become the "pet" of the teacher who had once vowed to love all of her children exactly the same. A year later she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that of all the teachers he'd had in elementary school, she was his favorite. 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 his favorite teacher of all time. 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 graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson she was still his favorite teacher. 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 his favorite teacher, but that now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D. The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that Spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering...well, if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the pew usually reserved for the mother of the groom. And guess what, she wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And I bet on that special day, Jean Thompson smelled just like...well, just like the way Teddy remembered his mother smelling on their last Christmas together. THE MORAL: You never can tell what type of impact you may make on another's life by your actions or lack of action. Consider this fact in your venture thru life.

Icecream
Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty and justice for all! Amen!" Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice-cream! Why, I never!" Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?" As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer." "Really?" my son asked. "Cross my heart," the man replied. Then in a theatrical whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes." Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you.Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes; and my soul is good already."

Child's Definition of LOVE.

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think: "When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." Rebecca - age 8 When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth." Billy - age 4 "Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." Karl - age 5 "Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs." Chrissy - age 6 "Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." Terri - age 4 Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." Danny - age 7

"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss" Emily - age 8 "Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen," Bobby - age 7 (Wow!) "If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate," Nikka age 6 "There are two kinds of love. Our love. God's love. But God makes both kinds of them." Jenny - age 8 "Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." Noelle - age 7 "Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." Tommy - age 6 "During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore," Cindy - age 8 "My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." Clare - age 6 "Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken." Elaine -age 5 "Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." Chris - age 7 "Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." Mary Ann - age 4 "I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." Lauren - age 4 "When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." Karen - age 7 "Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross." Mark age 6 "You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget," Jessica - age 8

Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked him what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."

Am I that blind person??

Pada suatu malam, seorang buta berpamitan pulang dari rumah sahabatnya. Sang sahabat membekalinya dengan sebuah lentera pelita. Orang buta itu terbahak berkata: "Buat apa saya bawa pelita? Kan sama saja buat saya! Saya bisa pulang kok." Dengan lembut sahabatnya menjawab, "Ini agar orang lain bisa melihat kamu, biar mereka tidak menabrakmu." Akhirnya orang buta itu setuju untuk membawa pelita tersebut. Tak berapa lama, dalam perjalanan, seorang pejalan menabrak si buta. Dalam kagetnya, ia mengomel, "Hei, kamu kan punya mata! Beri jalan buat orang buta dong!" Tanpa berbalas sapa, mereka pun saling berlalu. *** Lebih lanjut, seorang pejalan lainnya menabrak si buta. Kali ini si buta bertambah marah, "Apa kamu buta? Tidak bisa lihat ya? Aku bawa pelita ini supaya kamu bisa lihat!" Pejalan itu menukas, "Kamu yang buta! Apa kamu tidak lihat, pelitamu sudah padam!" Si buta tertegun.... Menyadari situasi itu, penabraknya meminta maaf, "Oh, maaf, sayalah yang 'buta', saya tidak melihat bahwa Anda adalah orang buta." Si buta tersipu menjawab, "Tidak apa-apa, maafkan saya juga atas kata-kata kasar saya." Dengan tulus, si penabrak membantu menyalakan kembali pelita yang dibawa si buta. Mereka pun melanjutkan perjalanan masing-masing. *** Dalam perjalanan selanjutnya, ada lagi pejalan yang menabrak orang buta kita. Kali ini, si buta lebih berhati-hati, dia bertanya dengan santun,

"Maaf, apakah pelita saya padam?" Penabraknya menjawab, "Lho, saya justru mau menanyakan hal yang sama." Senyap sejenak... secara berbarengan mereka bertanya, "Apakah Anda orang buta?" Secara serempak pun mereka menjawab, "Iya...," sembari meledak dalam tawa. Mereka pun berupaya saling membantu menemukan kembali pelita mereka yang berjatuhan sehabis bertabrakan. *** Pada waktu itu juga, seseorang lewat. Dalam keremangan malam, nyaris saja ia menubruk kedua orang yang sedang mencari-cari pelita tersebut. Ia pun berlalu, tanpa mengetahui bahwa mereka adalah orang buta. Timbul pikiran dalam benak orang ini, "Rasanya saya perlu membawa pelita juga, jadi saya bisa melihat jalan dengan lebih baik, orang lain juga bisa ikut melihat jalan mereka." *** Pelita melambangkan terang kebijaksanaan. Membawa pelita berarti menjalankan kebijaksanaan dalam hidup. Pelita, sama halnya dengan kebijaksanaan, melindungi kita dan pihak lain dari berbagai aral rintangan (tabrakan!) . Si buta pertama mewakili mereka yang terselubungi kegelapan batin, keangkuhan, kebebalan, ego, dan kemarahan. Selalu menunjuk ke arah orang lain, tidak sadar bahwa lebih banyak jarinya yang menunjuk ke arah dirinya sendiri. Dalam perjalanan "pulang", ia belajar menjadi bijak melalui peristiwa demi peristiwa yang dialaminya. Ia menjadi lebih rendah hati karena menyadari kebutaannya dan dengan adanya belas kasih dari pihak lain. Ia juga belajar menjadi pemaaf. Penabrak pertama mewakili orang-orang pada umumnya, yang kurang kesadaran, yang kurang peduli. Kadang, mereka memilih untuk "membuta" walaupun mereka bisa melihat. Penabrak kedua mewakili mereka yang seolah bertentangan dengan kita, yang sebetulnya menunjukkan kekeliruan kita, sengaja atau tidak sengaja. Mereka bisa menjadi guru-guru terbaik kita. Tak seorang pun yang mau jadi buta, sudah selayaknya kita saling memaklumi dan saling membantu. Orang buta kedua mewakili mereka yang sama-sama gelap batin dengan kita. Betapa sulitnya menyalakan pelita kalau kita bahkan tidak bisa melihat pelitanya. Orang buta sulit menuntun orang buta lainnya. Itulah pentingnya untuk terus belajar agar kita menjadi makin melek, semakin bijaksana. Orang terakhir yang lewat mewakili mereka yang cukup sadar akan pentingnya memiliki pelita kebijaksanaan.

Sudahkah kita sulut pelita dalam diri kita masing-masing? Jika sudah, apakah nyalanya masih terang, atau bahkan nyaris padam? JADILAH PELITA, bagi diri kita sendiri dan sekitar kita. Sebuah pepatah berusia 25 abad mengatakan: Sejuta pelita dapat dinyalakan dari sebuah pelita, dan nyala pelita pertama tidak akan meredup. Pelita kebijaksanaan pun, tak kan pernah habis terbagi. GOD bless
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Mari Belajar Dari Sebuah Cerita Kehidupan

Oleh: Bayu Mukti

Ada seorang bapak bernama Pak X yang hidupnya lumayan susah. Beliau ini mempunyai anak Y dan Z. Anaknya yang Y adalah seorang penjual Minuman Jahe Hangat, sedangkan anaknya yang Z adalah seorang penjual Es Kelapa Muda. Kedua Anak Pak X ini sudah menikah semua. Pada suatu Hari Pak X ini sedang berpikir tentang kedua anaknya sehingga beliau ini menderita penyakit hipertensi yang bisa dibilang cukup parah. Sudah dibawa ke puskesmas dan rumah sakit tapi tidak sembuh-sembuh. Anaknya si Y dan Z juga ikut bingung dan susah. Apa sih yang menyebabkan penyakit dari Pak X ini ? Pada suatu siang hari Pak X sedang duduk-duduk di teras rumahnya. Ia memikirkan mengapa siang ini begitu panas sekali sehingga membuat ia berkeringat. Setelah itu ia berpikir lagi. HmmmmGimana yah Nasib anak saya Y kalo hari panas begini. Padahal anaknya lagi sakit dan butuh obat. Tapi kalo panas terik kayak gini siapa yang mau beli Jahe hangatnya yah ? Geram Pak X Ia terus berpikir siang itu. Ia ingin sekali membantu anaknya Y yang anaknya sakit tapi ia sendiri untuk makan saja sulit. Apalagi mau membantu membelikan obat untuk cucunya tadi. Karena kecapekan dalam berpikir akhirnya Pak X tertidur di kursi terasnya. Tiba-tiba saja Pak X ini dibangunkan oleh bunyi hujan deras Kretek..kretek.kretek.. Akhirnya beliau masuk rumah. Lagi-lagi pak X ini di sore hari yang hujan kembali berpikir nasib anaknya ( Yah beginilah sayang orang tua kepada kita). Setelah Anaknya Y yang dipikirkan kali ini iya ganti memikirkan anaknya yang Z. Ia berpikir bagaimana nasib anaknya yang Z ini, mana laku dagangan es kelapa muda nya kalo hujan deras dan cuaca dingin seperti ini. Ia makin punya pikiran yang tidak karu-karuan. Ia memikirkan anaknya Y yang tadi sudah tidak laris, kali ini kok Z juga ga laku juga dagangannya. Wah gimana nasib anak-anakku ini. Sementara aku sendiri untuk biaya hidupku sendiri saja aku tak mampu. Aku ini bapak macam apa. gerutu Pak X. Akhirnya pun Pak X jatuh sakit, Ia terkena hipertensi. Anaknya si Y dan Z tadi yang mendengar bapaknya sakit, mereka pun segera membawa ke rumah sakit dan puskesmas. Namun ternyata tidak ada hasilnya juga. Salah satu tetangga pak X ini ada yang dokter. Akhirnya pun ia mau memberikan pengobatan gratis pada Pak X ini. Dokter ini bertanya pada Pak X, Pak sebenarnya bapak ini kok bisa sakit kayak gini ? kenapa to pak ? Soalnya bapak ini kan udah berobat kemana-mana kok belum sembuh. Kayaknya sakit bapak ini ada yang aneh. Tanya Pak dokter. Saya juga ga tahu pak dokter, kata pak X. Kalo menurut saya, bapak ini sakit karena ada yang mengganjal pikiran bapak. Jawab dokter. Iya Benar pak dokter, kata Pak X. Memangnya apa yang mengganjal pikiran bapak ini ? tanya dokter. Begini Pak dokter saya ini kasihan sama anak-anak saya. Saya memikirkan anak saya si Y saat di panas terik. Saya berpikir apa dagangan si anak saya Y ini akan laku kalo panas terik begini. Karena hal itu saya jadi sedih. Belum lagi kalau hujan datang dan cuaca dingin merasuk, saya ganti memikirkan anak saya yang Z yang sedang jualan Es Kelapa Muda. Mana laku dagangan anak saya. Sementara saya sebagai bapak tidak bisa bertindak apa-apa. Kata Pak X. Lalu dokter itu tersenyum. Pak, coba mulai sekarang anda balik pikiran anda. Jikalau sekarang saat panas terik, bapak pikirkan betapa larisnya dagangan anak anda yang Z, dan selain itu saat cuaca dingin dan hujan tiba, pikiran anda harus berbalik kepada anak anda yang Y yang sedang laris-larisnya jualan minuman jahe hangat. Kata Pak dokter. Lalu Pak X itu mengangguk-angguk kepalanya. Pak X pun mentaati sesuai anjuran dokter tadi. Akhirnya pun pak X sembuh dari sakit hipertensinya. Apa sih yang dapat kita petik dari cerita ini ? Kita harus senantiasa mensyukuri apa yang kita dapat saat ini, namun banyak sekali orang-orang yang lebih mendramatisir suatu musibah. Padahal mereka pada waktu yang sama juga mendapatkan sebuah berkah atau kebaikan. Tapi kita sebagai seringkali melupakan sebuah keberuntungan dan lebih mendramatisir suatu musibah yang datang kepada kita. Padahal jika kita mau mensyukuri apa yang telah kita dapat dan sabar serta tawakal saat musibah datang, Hidup kita lebih tenang.

Attitude Is Everything
by: Brian Cavanaugh, T.O.R., A Cup of Chicken Soup for the Soul Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always had something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!" He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation. Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, 'Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.' I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life." "Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life." I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it. Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at gunpoint by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body. I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I chose to live." "Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man.' "I knew I needed to take action."

"What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breathe and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them. 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.
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Berpikiran Positif
Oleh: Bayu Mukti

Salah satu dari berbagai hal yang menghalangi kita dari terjadinya tingkat kemajuan dalam hidup ini adalah kita sering menganggap bahwa pikiran kita sangat terbatas. Hal ini sebagai akibat dari adanya konsep bahwa setiap orang memiliki kemampuan yang terbatas dan sudah ditentukan oleh takdirnya. Kita semua termasuk saya telah tenggelam dalam pemikiran dan konsep tersebut. Jika kita dalam keadaan negatif atau takut pada suatu hal yang akan terjadi di masa datang, kita selalu saja menarik kesimpulan pada konsep takdir diri kita. Kita seharusnya terus yakin terhadap diri kita, harus berpikir positif namun bukan berarti harus agresif, tetapi harus yakin dan berpegang teguh pada keyakinan bahwa kita bisa menggapai apa yang kita inginkan. Orang yang berpikiran negatif selalu saja menerapkan suasana dan kondisi yang negatif pula, sehingga mereka mudah sekali mengalami kesulitan demi kesulitan. Orang yang berpikir positif menarik hal-hal yang positif, sehingga mereka dapat meraih keberhasilan demi keberhasilan. Sedikit sekali orang menyadari bahwa hukum berpikir itu merupakan realitas terbesar, dengan berpikir kita dapat menyelesaikan berbagai hal. Jika kita dapat memahami kekuatan pikiran, kita akan mengawasi pikiran kita dengan hati-hati agar jangan sampai dimasuki dengan pikiran-pikiran yang tidak kita kehendaki. Kita dapat mengendalikan pikiran kita dengan cara menjaganya agar tidak dimasuki oleh pikiran negatif. Setiap hari kita dapat mempraktekannya dengan mengatakan bahwa tidak ada pikiran yang terbatas yang dapat memasuki otak. Marilah kita hiasi diri kita, rumah kita dan bisnis kita dengan arus pikiran positif. Karena hanya dengan inilah kita akan selalu mendekat dengan hal-hal yang terbaik.