The Important Things In Life

A philosophy professor stood before his class with some items on the table in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, about 2 inches in diameter.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up the remaining open areas of the jar.

He then asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “Yes.”
“Now,” said the professor, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The rocks are the important things – your family, your partner, your health, your children – things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter – like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else, the small stuff.”

“If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party, or fix the disposal.” “Take care of the rocks first – the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”

It’s Never Too Late

It was an unusually busy day for the hospital staff on the sixth floor. Ten new patients were admitted and Nurse Susan spent the morning and afternoon checking them in.Her friend Sharron, an aide, prepared ten rooms for the patients and made sure they were comfortable. After they were finished she grabbed Sharron and said, “We deserve a break. Let’s go eat.” Sitting across from each other in the noisy cafeteria, Susan noticed Sharron absently wiping the moisture off the outside of her glass with her thumbs. Her face reflected a weariness that came from more than just a busy day.

“You’re pretty quiet. Are you tired, or is something wrong?” – Susan asked.
Sharron hesitated. However, seeing the sincere concern in her friend’s face, she confessed, “I can’t do this the rest of my life, Susan. I have to find a higher-paying job to provide for my family. We barely get by. If it weren’t for my parents keeping my kids, well, we wouldn’t make it.”
Susan noticed the bruises on Sharron’s wrists peeking out from under her jacket.

“What about your husband?”
“We can’t count on him. He can’t seem to hold a job. He’s got . . . problems.”
“Sharron, you’re so good with patients, and you love working here. Why don’t you go to school and become a nurse? There’s financial help available, and I’m sure your parents would agree to keep the kids while you are in class.”

“It’s too late for me, Susan; I’m too old for school. I’ve always wanted to be a nurse, that’s why I took this job as an aide; at least I get to care for patients.”
“How old are you?” – Susan asked.
“Let’s just say I’m thirty-something.”

Susan pointed at the bruises on Sharron’s wrists. “I’m familiar with ‘problems’ like these. Honey, it’s never too late to become what you’ve dreamed of. Let me tell you how I know.”
Susan began sharing a part of her life few knew about. It was something she normally didn’t talk about, only when it helped someone else.
“I first married when I was thirteen years old and in the eighth grade.”
Sharron gasped.

“My husband was twenty-two. I had no idea he was violently abusive. We were married six years and I had three sons. One night my husband beat me so savagely he knocked out all my front teeth. I grabbed the boys and left. “At the divorce settlement, the judge gave our sons to my husband because I was only nineteen and he felt I couldn’t provide for them. The shock of him taking my babies left me gasping for air. To make things worse, my ex took the boys and moved, cutting all contact I had with them.
“Just like the judge predicted, I struggled to make ends meet. I found work as a waitress, working for tips only. Many days my meals consisted of milk and crackers. The most difficult thing was the emptiness in my soul. I lived in a tiny one-room apartment and the loneliness would overwhelm me. I longed to play with my babies and hear them laugh.”

She paused. Even after four decades, the memory was still painful. Sharron’s eyes filled with tears as she reached out to comfort Susan. Now it didn’t matter if the bruises showed.
Susan continued, “I soon discovered that waitresses with grim faces didn’t get tips, so I hid behind a smiling mask and pressed on. I remarried and had a daughter. She became my reason for living, until she went to college.

“Then I was back where I started, not knowing what to do with myself – until the day my mother had surgery. I watched the nurses care for her and thought: I can do that. The problem was, I only had an eighth-grade education. Going back to high school seemed like a huge mountain to conquer. I decided to take small steps toward my goal. The first step was to get my GED. My daughter used to laugh at how our roles reversed. Now I was burning the midnight oil and asking her questions.”
Susan paused and looked directly in Sharron’s eyes. “I received my diploma when I was forty-six years old.”

Tears streamed down Sharron’s cheeks. Here was someone offering the key that might unlock the door in her dark life.“The next step was to enroll in nursing school. For two long years I studied, cried and tried to quit. But my family wouldn’t let me. I remember calling my daughter and yelling, ‘Do you realize how many bones are in the human body, and I have to know them all! I can’t do this, I’m forty-six years old!’ But I did. Sharron, I can’t tell you how wonderful it felt when I received my cap and pin.”
Sharron’s lunch was cold, and the ice had melted in her tea by the time Susan finished talking. Reaching across the table and taking Sharron’s hands, Susan said, “You don’t have to put up with abuse. Don’t be a victim – take charge. You will be an excellent nurse. We will climb this mountain together.”
Sharron wiped her mascara-stained face with her napkin. “I had no idea you suffered so much pain. You seem like someone who has always had it together.”

“I guess I’ve developed an appreciation for the hardships of my life,” Susan answered. “If I use them to help others, then I really haven’t lost a thing. Sharron, promise me that you will go to school and become a nurse. Then help others by sharing your experiences.”

Sharron promised. In a few years she became a registered nurse and worked alongside her friend until Susan retired. Sharron never forgot her colleague or the rest of her promise.
Now Sharron sits across the table taking the hands of those who are bruised in body and soul, telling them, “It’s never too late. We will climb this mountain together.”

By Linda Carol Apple

Improving self confidence

When Henry Ward Beecher was a young boy in school, he learned a lesson in self confidence which he never forgot. He was called upon to recite in front of the class. He had hardly begun when the teacher interrupted with an emphatic, “No!” He started over and again the teacher thundered, “No!” Humiliated, Henry sat down. The next boy rose to recite and had just begun when the teacher shouted, “No!” This student, however, kept on with the recitation until he completed it. As he sat down, the teacher replied, “Very good!” Henry was irritated. “I recited just as he did,” he complained to the teacher. But the instructor replied, “It is not enough to know your lesson, you must be sure. When you allowed me to stop you, it meant that you were uncertain. If the world says, ‘No!’ it is your business to say, ‘Yes!’ and prove it. Henry Ward Beecher, a prominent congregationalist clergyman, social reformer, abolitionist, and speaker in the mid to late 19th century. The world will say, ‘No!’ in a thousand ways. ‘No! You can’t do that.’ ‘No! You are wrong.’ ‘No! You are too old.’ ‘No! You are too young.’ ‘No! You are too weak.’ ‘No! It will never work.’ ‘No! You don’t have the education.’ ‘No! You don’t have the background.’ ‘No! You don’t have the money.’ ‘No! It can’t be done.’ And each ‘No!’ you hear has the potential to erode your confidence bit by bit until you quit all together. Though the world says, ‘No!’ to you today, you should be determined to say, ‘Yes!’ and prove it! ” Author: Steve Goodier