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This is issue of SFPNN is dedicated to Rose Watchmaker.


Howdy Folks and Good Day!


Have you ever stopped to think about the many people you encounter in your life?  Family, friends, co-workers, teachers, bosses, doctors, nurses, police officers, store clerks, the mail delivery person, the folks who drive away your garbage or pave the roads by your house… There are SO MANY people in our lives we tend to take for granted.

Being able to take them for granted is often a gift in and of itself.  It means things are probably going smoothly and we don’t have to struggle with these folks to get what we need.

All the people in our lives make a difference, a difference we may not even realize!  Take the garbage men for instance.  They come at their scheduled time, haul away our trash and leave without a hitch.  We may never see them, or talk to them, but we know the trash has been removed.  Just think what it would be like if that trash was left for two weeks! Or for a month! Or if there was no one there to take it away and properly dispose of it in the first place!  Things would be a real mess!  Literally and figuratively.  Our way of living would have to change in a quick hurry.

Now most folks don't consider being a garbage man as providing a great service to humankind.  But it really and truly is.  The trash haulers allow us to live in clean neighborhoods.  They help us enjoy fresh air.  They prevent rodents and insects from over-running the place.  They help keep down the bacteria and communicable diseases.  I don’t know about you, but I value all of those things! 

Most of the time I don’t notice the garbage men though.  (Except when our cat Tiger runs for cover under the bed because the noisy truck scares him so much!) Human nature is to notice only when something goes wrong or when it doesn’t go as usual.  Like during the holidays when these hard-working folks actually get a day off.  More than likely we’ll notice the trash has gotten piled up much quicker than we’ll notice that they’ve done a great job of hauling it away again. 

Today, think about the people you take for granted.  Every human being has value.  Every human being brings a gift to this planet.  Sometimes we have to stop and think or change our perspective in order to see these gifts.  But they are there!

What gifts do you bring?   What gifts do those around you bring?  Do you know someone who doesn’t recognize their own value?  Is there something you can do to help them see it – perhaps a thank you note, a genuine compliment, or just pointing out what they do well or how they make a difference in your life?

Those who have the greatest influence on us aren’t necessarily perfect people.  They’re usually real folks with real issues and challenges in life.  But they do things with heart in some way or another.  They keep on keeping on.  They’re true to themselves.  Some may know they’re making a difference and some might not.   That’s why it’s important to let people know when they do.

And for the record, each and every one of you makes a difference to me.  THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU.   You are a blessing to our world.

With Peace, Love, Happiness, Health, and Prosperity…

Rev. Jeanette

http://www.sfpnn.com

If you’re interested in connecting with your angels, intuitive workshops, receiving healing energy, or reprogramming your body, mind and life for more positive results… Ask me about Angel Therapy®, Reiki and Theta Healing!


Or visit http://www.sfpnn.com/ask_your_angels.htm



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Sir Froggie's Positive News Network:  Thursday, October 18th, 2007
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1.      PROGRAM YOUR DAY! 

A little positive pro-active programming can go a long way in creating the kind of day you truly desire.  Take a few seconds to fill in the blanks of your life.

Today, I desire and experience…

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I affirm the following positive reality:

“As I send out Loving Kindness, all those around me are affected.”

— © John Holland

 

2.      “There is no need to make drudgery out of what you are doing.  It can be fun. It can be a game. It can be a joy.  It’s up to you!”

    © You CAN Heal Your Life – by Louise Hay




3.      The Enchanted Self     — by Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein

Enchanted Memories That I Treasure

I'm sitting at my computer with a beautiful seashell in front of me.  It is tortoise colored and has the faint sound of the ocean still in it when I press it against my ear.  This seashell is defiantly 119 years old.  How could I possibly be so sure?  It's easy.  Engraved right on it is the following:

Rose Watchmaker
Born
Oct 16th l888
9 A.M.
25 Sheafe
St.
Boston, Mass.

As I write this to you it is October 16th, 2007.  So you see, I know the seashell is 119 years old.  And I also know who Rose Watchmaker Silverman is.  She was my grandmother and today is her birthday. 

Where do I start with the Enchanted Memories that go with this fine lady who loved me so deeply that a day doesn't go by that I don't miss her?  (She died in 1970.) 

Was it her house when I was a little girl?  That magical apartment on Rosin Rd. in Brookline where the old upright piano stood next to the wind up Victrola (record player) and I kept myself busy between  playing the black keys on the piano, pretending to play Chinese music, and listening to Caruso (a famous Operatic singer) sing opera on the victrola?  Was it the pantry where the colored glass plates in piles on the shelves fascinated me?  Was it the bedroom with the iron framed twin beds where my mother and I would sleep and the birds singing in the trees outside the windows?  Was it the smell of fresh air and fall leaves when we sat on the front porch?  Was it when I got to sit on my grandmother's lap as she sang God Bless America to me? 

Was it my Grandfather's kind ways?  He would sit by my bed when I didn't feel well.  My mother tells me he sat all night when I had whooping cough.

Was it sitting around the big giant dining room table with my grandfather David, my grandmother, my mother and my uncle Howard who was yet to marry?  Me in the high chair drawn up to the table and everyone eating Oreo cookies.  For some strange reason I was always given the Oreo already open.  It was tasty but I felt cheated.  The grownups got two cookies and a filling-I got only one cookie.

Was it the times my grandparents took me to the Swan Boat rides in the Commons in downtown Boston?  Me in a starched pink dress that tied in the back, on my knees on the trolley seat, looking into the darkness underneath the city?  Them holding my hands as we walked toward the Swan Boats? 

Was it the slightly naughty ride to Boston in the train from New Haven where I had to slump down in the seat so my mother could pay less for me than if she told the conductor I was 5 or was it 6?

My times with my grandmother were Enchanted Times because they had a heightened atmosphere that has stayed with me all these years.  You know what that heightened atmosphere was made of?  Not perfect people and not people who never got angry or never yelled.  It was made up of love.  It was that simple. 

My grandparents loved me without question or demands.  I was treasured by them and that made everything in their world infused with pleasure for me.  Even touching my grandmother's things made me happy.  And to this day that is still true.  Her white marble bust of the beautiful lady sits in my living room on the black pedestal.  She always told me to be careful of it, as originally she had two statues and over the years one column and one bust fell and cracked.  So she was left with the one combined statue.  I've been careful and even had them repaired.  That giant dining room table is now my dining room table and the buffet with it still smells very faintly of my grandfather's scotch bottles. 

But it is the seashell that I'm in tune with tonight.  I'm singing Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday, Dear Grandma, I love you So!

Do you have some Enchanted Memories of someone special?  Share them with us please.  Write to me at Drbarbara@enchantedself.com

— © Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein

In private practice since 1981, Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein, psychologist and originator of The Enchanted Self, has committed to bring the keys of enchantment to the world.

¨ E-mail Dr. Barbara at:  DrBarbara@Enchantedself.com

¨ Read the weekly column in SFPNN

¨ Listen to her audio show at LadybugLive

¨ Buy Dr. Becker-Holstein’s latest book at www.authorhouse.com or Amazon.com or www.enchantedself.com

¨ Sign up for her daily blessings as www.enchantedself.com

¨ Subscribe to her E-letter

Talk to her on her blog, The Enchanted Self, at www.typepad.com





1.      “Through the energy and power of love, you’re always connected with your family, friends, and pets both here and in the spirit world… It’s a form of telepathic rapport.”

— © Power of the Soul by John Holland



 

2.      ValueSpeak
A Weekly Column
By
Joseph Walker

GIVING BLOOD WITH BROTHER DRACULA

Dick wasn’t really a vampire.  He just played one on the telephone.  But when it came to collecting blood, he made Count Dracula look absolutely toothless.

Of course, he didn’t start out as a vampire (few of them do, you know).  He was actually a house painter by profession.  But he had to put his brushes and buckets away when a two-word phrase that he had never even heard before entered his life: Parkinson’s disease.  The illness affected his body in a variety of ways, most notably causing him to tremble uncontrollably.  He was embarrassed by the shaking, and the physical limitations imposed upon him by the disease were frustrating and painful.  But instead of allowing himself to become embittered by the tough hand life had dealt to him, he chose to play it out openly – and with characteristic good humor.

“The good thing about having Parkinson’s,” he said the first time I talked to him, “is that I can hold your hand and shake your hand at the same time!”

That’s the way Dick was.  He didn’t defy Parkinson’s, but he didn’t take it all that seriously, either.  Although he allowed some accommodation in his life for the devastating effects of the disease – for example, since he had to spend most of his time in bed his bedroom walls were lined with video copies of his favorite films – he resisted any attempt by well-meaning friends and neighbors to give him excuses for not doing the things that he knew he could still do.

“Disability is not inability,” he used to tell me.  “Parkinson’s has already taken a lot from me, so I’m going to be pretty protective of what little is left for me.”

Most of what was left for Dick came straight from his heart.  He was kind and generous to a fault.  When you visited him you usually came away with a smile on your face and a pack of gum in your pocket.  His greatest desire was to serve others, and when it became too difficult for him to do it physically he tried to do it through his limited financial resources.

As the lay leader of his church congregation I tried to warn him about frittering away his fixed income on treats for everyone who came to call.  But he would hear none of it from me.

“Everyone is so good to me, I need to give something back,” he said.  “I need to give.”

So we tried to find something he could do within the congregation to fulfill his need.  It wasn’t easy.  His limitations were very real; most of the service options we could come up with required more than he was physically able to do.  About the most strenuous thing he could do for any length of time was talk on the telephone.

Which, it turned out, was exactly what was needed to lead our annual blood drive.  When we asked him to be in charge of the project he accepted with eagerness.  He called every member of our congregation and got more commitments to give blood than we had ever received.  Then he called everyone again the night before the drive to remind them of their appointments.  And if anyone didn’t show up at the appointed time he would call them again to find out why.  Every time he called, his salutation was the same: “This is Brother Dracula.  I vant your blood!”

And he got it, in record amounts.  A few days after the blood drive someone from the local blood bank called to thank me and to ask what we had done to attract so many participants.  “It’s easy to get blood,” I told him, “when you have a vampire in the congregation.”

Dick continued to preside over our congregational blood-lettings for several years.  When we moved out of the area I found myself missing his regular inquiries as to the condition of my corpuscles.  Even now, whenever I have blood drawn I think about Brother Dracula and how he refused to allow disability to limit his ability to give – and to get others to give.

Even if he wasn’t REALLY a vampire.

# # #

— © Joseph Walker

For more ValueSpeak, please visit http://www.sfpnn.com/joseph_walker1.htm

E-mail Joseph at: valuespeak@msn.com 

* * * CHECK OUT Joseph Walker’s LATest bookS! * * *

Click to find out more or order your copy of these uplifting collections:

Look What Love Has Done: Five-Minute Messages to Lift Your Spirit. 

"How Can You Mend a Broken Spleen? Home Remedies for an Ailing World."


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Do You Wish You Could Change the World?

YOU CAN!

You can make a difference right here, right now.
It won’t cost anything.  And it takes less than a minute.
 
Click to visit
The Animal Rescue Site, The Hunger Site, The Breast Cancer Site,
The Child Health Site, The Literacy Site and The Rain Forest Site. 

YOU CAN MAKE A POSITIVE DIFFERENCE!

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This and every issue of SFPNN is dedicated to MISTY, a tiny angel who taught us to love unconditionally and bask in the glory and joy of each moment.

To find out more about Misty, please visit Misty's Miracle

( http://www.sfpnn.com/SoulMagic/Soul2001/sm040601.htm )

Or read Reflections of a Zen Master.


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“ONLY LOVE PREVAILS”             – Beverley Waller
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