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Stories For The Heart #1

Discussion in 'Chit-Chat' started by wilfredlgf, Oct 6, 2004.

  1. wilfredlgf

    wilfredlgf Regular Member

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    A Beautiful Touching Story

    I cried for my brother 6 times.
    I was born in a secluded village of a mountain. Days by days my parents ploughed the yellow dry soil with their backs facing the sky.

    I have a younger brother, 3 years younger than me. Once, to buy a handkerchief which all girls around me seemed to have, I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. When Father came to know about it right away. He made my younger brother and me kneeled against the wall, with a bamboo stick in his hand. "Who stole the money?" he asked.

    I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Father didn't hear any of us admit, so he said, "Fine, if nobody wants to admit, you two should be beaten!" He lifted up the bamboo stick.

    Suddenly, my younger brother gripped father's hand and said," Dad, I was the one who did it!"

    The long stick smacked on my brother's back repeatedly.

    Father was so angry that he kept on whipped my brother until he lost his
    breath.

    After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, "You have learnt to steal from your own house now, what other embarrassing things you will do in the future?? You should be beaten to death! You shameless thief!"

    That night, mother and I hugged my brother. His body full of injuries, but he didn't shed a single tear.

    In the middle of the night, all of sudden I cried out loudly.

    My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, " Sis, now don't cry anymore. Everything has happened."

    I still hate myself for didn't have enough courage to admit what I had done.

    Years gone by, but the incident still looked like it just happened yesterday.

    I will never forget my brother's ___expression when he protected me. That year, my brother was 8 years old; I was 11 years old.

    When my brother was in his last year of his lower secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a province's university.

    That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet. I
    could hear him said, "Both our children have good results? very good results?"

    Mother wiped off her tears and sighed," What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?"

    At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of father and said,"Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books."

    Father swung his hand and slapped brother on his face.

    "Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you both finish your study!"

    And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money.

    I stuck out my hand as soft as I can to my brother's swollen face, and said, "A boy has to continue his study; If not, he will not be able to leave this depths of poverty."

    Me, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study to university. Who knows on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to the side of my bed and left a note on my pillow; "Sis, get into an university is not easy. I will go find a job and send money to you."

    I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.

    That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old. With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at construction site,finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university.

    One day, I was studying in my room, when my roommate came in and told me,"There's a villager wait for you outside!"

    Why is there a villager looking for me? I walked out, and saw my brother from afar, His whole body is dirty, covered by dust, cement and sands. I asked him, "Why don't you tell my roommate that you are my brother?"

    He replied with a smile," Look at my appearance. What will they think if they know that I am your brother? Don't they laugh at you?"

    I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dusts from my brother's body. And said with a lump in my throat, " I don't care of what people say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?"

    From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He wore it on me, and
    said, "I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one."

    I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried and cried.

    That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old. The first time I brought my boyfriend home, the broken window had been repaired.And it looked so clean inside the house.

    After, my boyfriend went home, I danced like a small girl in front of my mother, "Mom, you don't have to spend so many time cleaning the house!" But she said with a smile," It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He was injured while replacing the window." I went into my brother's small bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like there are hundreds of needle pricked in my heart.

    I put some ointment on his wound and bandaged it, "Does it hurt? " I asked him. "No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when I was working in the construction site, stones falling on my feet all the time. Even that could not stop me from working".

    In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolling down my face. That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old. After I got married, I lived in the city. Lots of time my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want.

    They said, once they left the village,they didn't know what to do. My brother also didn't agree, he said, "Sis, you just taking care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of mom and dad here."

    My husband became the director of his factory. We wanted my brother to get the job as the manager in the department of maintenance. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on starting to work as a reparation worker.

    One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and was sent to the hospital. My husband and I visited him. Looked at the white gypsum on his leg, I grumbled,"Why did you reject to be a manager? Manager will not do something dangerous like this. Look at you now, such a serious injury. Why you didn't want to listen to us?"

    With a serious expression on his face, he defended on his decision, "Think of brother-in-law? He just became the director, and I am almost uneducated. If I became the manager, what kind of rumors will fly around?"

    My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said, "But you lack in education also because of me!" "Why talking about the past?" My brother held my hand.

    That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old. My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmer girl from the village. In his wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, "Who is the one you respect and love the most?"

    Without thinking, he answered," My sister." He continued by telling a story I could not even remember. "When I was in primary school, the school was in different village.Everyday, my sister and I walked for 2 hours to go school and go home. One day, I lost one of my pair of gloves. My sister gave me one of hers. She only wore one glove and walked for so far. When we got home, her hand was so trembled because of the weather that was so cold that she could not even hold her chopsticks. From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and be good to her."

    Applause filled up the room. All guests turned their attentions to me. Words were so hard to come out from my mouth, "In my whole life, the one I would like to thank the most is my brother," And in this happy occasion,in front of the crowd, tears rolling down my face again.

    Love and care for the one you love every single days of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.
     
  2. FEND.

    FEND. Regular Member

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    Nice one wilfred. Beautiful Story :crying: :crying: :crying:
     
  3. Gessle

    Gessle Regular Member

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    wer did u get tat? :crying:

    i want more !!!
     
  4. OTFK

    OTFK Regular Member

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    Thank you for sharing the story.
    With your permission, I would like to forward this story to others.
     
  5. Cheung

    Cheung Moderator

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    I don't think Wilfred owns any copyright on the article. It's been going around e-mails already. I received my 'version' a couple of weeks back. LOL
     
  6. richho

    richho Regular Member

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    What a touching story!

    Similar to this story of telling love between brother and sister.I got another one,which is about the friendship and is a also a moving story. I would like to share with you guys.I believe most of you must have read it.However,the good stuff will never be got bored of.

    Those two stories are illuminating the same idea,where you may find it from "Love and care for the one you love every single days of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot" and " Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life, for better or for worse."


    Here is the story:

    One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."

    I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on. As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying. I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes.

    My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses. I saw a tear in his eye. While I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks." He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.

    I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend. The more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.

    Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books.

    Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends and that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.

    Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak. On graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous.

    Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.

    As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years: your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but most of all your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."

    I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."

    I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth.

    Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life, for better or for worse.

    God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others. "Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."

    There is no beginning or end. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is mystery. Today is a gift and that¡¯s why it¡¯s called the present.
     
  7. cappy75

    cappy75 Regular Member

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    Hate to be a downer here, but I have read these stories before... courtesy of my cousins. It's like SPAM, the more one read about these stuff the less one feels about them:(.
     
  8. timeless

    timeless Regular Member

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    They are almost like urban legends! :)
     
  9. kwun

    kwun Administrator

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    i think they are both very moving stories. beautifully written and both touches my heart.

    however, i find that i was more touched by the first story than the second. i think the reason is that the brother in the first story really sacrifices himself to help his sister move through childhood and growth. he could've many chances but he willing gave them to his sibling, as a result, he was worse off educationally and financially, but he was still grateful because he helped someone he loved.

    i think while these stories are starting to get old, it is still a good thing to reflect on ourselves once in a while to see if we have helped anybody recently, and perhaps sacrificing something of our own while making somebody happier and make a difference in someone elses life. :) :) :)
     
  10. laughable c.

    laughable c. Regular Member

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    NHM, but mebbe it's just you,pal!
    :D
     
  11. wilfredlgf

    wilfredlgf Regular Member

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    These stories should be public domain, since they're sent via emails around. Got it from someone at the HQ, so I thought why not start a Story For The Heart series of sorts. Off the court, we are all human and that should not change.

    Kwun, Cheung maybe you could remove the '#1' from the topic and merge all the anecdotes, stories into one whole thread. Saves on space and easier to search.

    Got lots more but will be adding them as I get them. ;)
     
  12. cappy75

    cappy75 Regular Member

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    Maybe... I guess I am just not as fired up by melodramas that some claimed to be true stories:rolleyes:.

     
  13. wood_22_chuck

    wood_22_chuck Regular Member

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    What's "NHM"?

    -dave
     
  14. richho

    richho Regular Member

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    Dave

    I guese NHM is "Ni Hao Ma?" It is the pingyin of Mandarin,which means " How are you" :D
     
  15. laughable c.

    laughable c. Regular Member

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    :D :D :D hahahahah! i can't stop grinning, now i've stopped laughing!!! :D

    of course not!!! i thought it was about time someone asked.. heheh! i came out with the acronym after i got pretty tired of seeing IMO, IMHO, FYI, etc without knowing for certain what they meant.. but i think i've deciphered the 3 acronyms above, and that's about all i know so far.

    NHM stands for 'no harm meant' as in "i didn't say that to purposely get at you, etc.":cool:
     
  16. Gessle

    Gessle Regular Member

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    A Touching Love Story
    ================
    To my dearest friends:
    Today is a sad day in my life. Some of you may know me personally and
    some only on AOL and some may have never even spoken to me.
    What only some of you may know is that I had a girlfriend that was
    killed.
    I am sending this out to tell you all a simple and true message. I
    never was big on girls, being a simple country boy from Tennessee. I
    never thought I stood a chance with a nice girl like all guys dream
    about. I dated girls here and there but nothing major. Then my senior
    year of highschool, I saw her. Her name was Alena Mazzoni. She was a
    model and to beat it all she was Italian. The first day she was there
    she walked up and looked at me in lunch and said, "Excuse me Mr Allen,
    could I sit with the senior class president?" I looked at her and said,
    "Well that's me, sit if you would like."
    From that day on we were never apart. I was one of the popular people
    but not one of the sports jocks and I still don't know why. I was
    studying to be a photographer when she took me on a model shoot with her
    and a runway show. I was just amazed at her. We had then decided I would
    be her photographer. She even got me into modeling. We were together
    about everyday then on November 8, 1994 it happened. She called and
    woke me up at 6 am like she always did and said I'll see you at school.
    I had known her for only 4 months. I got to school and she never showed
    up. At 10 am as I was walking to the office to call her, the principal
    came over the inter-com and gave this heart-breaking message. "Students
    and Faculty : It is my sad duty to tell you that Alena Mazzoni was
    killed in a head on collision this morning on the way to school." I
    dropped to my knees there in the hall and cried. I left school. I came
    home and only to find my mom and dad waiting on me.
    My mom was crying because she knew how I felt for her. I found out that
    my dad saw the whole accident and was the first on the scene. A girl
    crossed 3 lanes of traffic and hit Alena head on. Alena's Geo Tracker
    rolled over down an enbankment and rested on it's tires again. My dad
    found her with the engine in her lap. She was flown to the University of
    Tennessee hospital where she was pronounced dead on arrival. The other
    girl that hit her was stoned and drunk. I felt it was my fault because I
    talked her into staying at G-P highschool in Gatlinburg. She lived in
    Sevierville next to the Sevier Co high and she wanted to move back. I
    begged for her to stay. If I didn't, she would still be here today.
    So what's the message behind this you ask? I never told Alena I loved
    her nor did she me. We were so happy it was like we already knew. When
    I went to the funeral home her mom met me at the door and asked if I
    would be a paul bearer for her and if I would sing Amazing Grace for
    her. I said I would. The funeral home was closing the doors and her mom
    said she had to go but handed me a piece of paper that had a spot of
    blood on it. Everyone left but since I knew the funeral director I asked
    if I could stay. The note her mom handed me said this:
    My dearest Brent!
    I am just sitting here in my room thinking of you and I wanted to write.
    You have no idea how happy I am with you. We have been together for 4
    months now and I couldn't dream being with anyone else.
    There is something I want to tell you I think it is time for me to say:
    Brent,
    I love you!
    Well I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.
    Love Forever,
    Alena
    She wrote the note the night before she died. We never had told each
    other we love the other. I cried so hard. I put the note next to her and
    the only picture of the both of us together in there and a white rose.
    I sang at her funeral the next day and I helped carry her to her final
    resting place in Pigeon Forge, TN I thought my life ended at that moment
    when they lowered her down. Today is her 20th Birthday!
    Still to this day I think of her and I never wanted to talk about it. It
    feels better now that I got it out. The point of this is : IF THERE IS
    SOMEONE YOU LOVE, TELL THEM. NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE. If it is a guy or girl
    you love, tell them. Tomorrow may be WAY too late.
    I must move on now with my life but I will always remember the times we
    shared. When I wake up in the morning and walk outside: She smiles at
    me. I just know it. She would want me to go on.
    Please forward this to ALL your friends and help me share this simple
    and true message with everyone. One more thing! I love all of you!
    Love,
    Brent Allen
     
  17. Kenny

    Kenny Regular Member

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    Wow, all those stories brought tears to my eyes. :crying: but the saddest one was the first one =( so touching
     
  18. Gessle

    Gessle Regular Member

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    yeap... none can beat the first one
     
  19. Anatolii

    Anatolii Regular Member

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    what comes around goes around..

    He almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.


    Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so .. was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe; he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was tha chill which only fear can put in you.


    He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson."


    Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.


    Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Bryan never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.


    He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, "And think of me."


    He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.


    A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. she had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.


    After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she noticed something written on the napkin. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote: "You don't owe me anything. I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you."


    Under the napkin were four more $100 bills. Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard..


    She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's gonna be all right. I love you, Bryan Anderson."



    Good friends are like stars....You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.
     
  20. cooler

    cooler Regular Member

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    Subject: A HIT!

    I've check a few website and the story seem to be real. Some of you might have heard it before
    ----------------------------------------------------

    In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be mainstreamed into conventional schools.

    At a Chush fundraising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

    After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done with perfection.

    But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection? The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish and stilled by the piercing query.

    "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child."

    He then told the following story about his son Shaya.

    One afternoon, Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?"

    Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging. Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters in his own hands and said "We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."

    Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base. Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

    Surpassingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact.

    The first pitch came and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's teammates came up to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the ball and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.

    The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

    Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first, run to first."

    Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head.

    Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases toward home.

    As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, "Shaya run home." Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as if he had just hit a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.

    "That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."
     

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