A little boy wanted
to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived,
so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of
Root Beer and he started his journey.
When he had gone
about three blocks, he met an elderly man. The man was
sitting in the park just feeding some pigeons.
The boy sat down next
to him and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink
from his root beer when he noticed that the man looked
hungry, so he offered him a Twinkie.
The man gratefully
accepted it and smiled at boy. His smile was so pleasant
that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a
root beer.
Again, the man smiled
at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon
eating and smiling, but they never said a word.
As it grew dark, the
boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but
before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around,
ran back to the man, and gave him a hug. The man gave him
his biggest smile ever.
When the boy opened
the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was
surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him,
"What did you do today that made you so happy?
"He replied,
"I had lunch with God." But before his mother
could respond, he added, "You know what? God's got the
most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"
Meanwhile, the
elderly man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home.
His son was stunned by the look of peace on his face and he
asked," Dad, what did you do today that made you so
happy?"
He replied, "I
ate Twinkies in the park with God." However, before his
son responded, he added," You know, he's much younger
than I expected."
Too often we
underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a
listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of
caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life
around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season,
or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!
~author unknown~
If
you approve of "My
Website"
please give me a "Thumbs
Up"
on Facebook
by clicking on the "Like"
button above.
