✌️👉 chicken soup for the soul 👐💕💔❣️

 ON love 💕 

*The day will come when, after harnessing space, the winds, the tides

and gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And on

that day, for the second time in the history of the world, we shall have

discovered fire.

Tielhard de Chardin

💕Love: The One Creative Force

Spread love everywhere you go: first of all in your own house. Give

love to your children, to your wife or husband, to a next door neighbor. .

. . Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be

the living expression of God's kindness; kindness in your face, kindness

in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greeting.

Mother Teresa

A college professor had his sociology class go into the Baltimore slums

to get case histories of 200 young boys. They were asked to write an

evaluation of each boy's future. In every case the students wrote, "He

hasn't got a chance." Twenty-five years later another sociology

professor came across the earlier study. He had his students follow up

on the project to see what had happened to these boys. With the

exception of 20 boys who had moved away or died, the students learned

that 176 of the remaining 180 had achieved more than ordinary success

as lawyers, doctors and businessmen.

The professor was astounded and decided to pursue the matter further.

Fortunately, all the men were in the area and he was able to ask each

one, "How do you account for your success?" In each case the reply

came with feeling, 'There was a teacher."

The teacher was still alive, so he sought her out and asked the old but

still alert lady what magic formula she had used to pull these boys out of

the slums into successful achievement.

The teacher's eyes sparkled and her lips broke into a gentle smile. "It's

really very simple," she said. "I loved those boys. All I Remember

When my father spoke to me, he always began the conversation with

"Have I told you yet today how much I adore you?" The expression of

love was reciprocated and, in his later years, as his life began to visibly

ebb, we grew even closer.... if that were possible.

At 82 he was ready to die, and I was ready to let him go so that his

suffering would end. We laughed and cried and held hands and told

each other of our love and agreed that it was time. I said, "Dad, after

you've gone I want a sign from you that you're fine." He laughed at the

absurdity of that; Dad didn't believe in reincarnation. I wasn't positive I

did either, but I had had many experiences that convinced me I could

get some signal "from the other side."

My father and I were so deeply connected I felt his heart attack in my

chest at the moment he died. Later I mourned that the hospital, in their

sterile wisdom, had not let me hold his hand as he had slipped away.

Day after day I prayed to hear from him, but nothing happened. Night

after night I asked for a dream before I fell asleep. And yet four long

months passed and I heard and felt nothing but grief at his loss. Mother

had died five years before of Alzheimer's, and, though I had grown

daughters of my own, I felt like a lost child.

One day, while I was lying on a massage table in a dark quiet room

waiting for my appointment, a wave of longing for my father swept over

me. I began to wonder if I had been too demanding in asking for a sign

from him. I noticed that my mind was in a hyper-acute state. I

experienced an unfamiliar clarity in which I could have added long

columns of figures in my head. I checked to make sure I was awake and

not dreaming, and I saw that I was as far removed from a dreamy state

as one could possibly be. Each thought I had, was like a drop of water

disturbing a still pond, and I marveled at the peacefulness of each

passing moment. Then I thought, "I've been trying to control the

messages from the other side; I will stop that now."

Suddenly my mother's face appeared—my mother, as she had been

before Alzheimer's disease had stripped her of her mind, her humanity

and 50 pounds. Her magnificent silver hair crowned her sweet face. She

was so real and so close I felt I could reach out and touch her. She

looked as she had a dozen years ago, before the wasting away had

begun. I even smelled the fragrance of Joy, her favorite perfume. Sheseemed to be waiting and did not speak. I wondered how it could

happen that I was thinking of my father and my mother appeared, and I

felt a little guilty that I had not asked for her as well.

I said, "Oh, Mother, I'm so sorry that you had to suffer with that horrible

disease."

She tipped her head slightly to one side, as though to acknowledge what

I had said about her suffering. Then she smiled—a beautiful smile—and

said very distinctly, "But all I remember is love." And she disappeared.

I began to shiver in a room suddenly gone cold, and I knew in my bones

that the love we give and receive is all that matters and all that is

remembered. Suffering disappears - love remains.

Her words are the most important I have ever heard, and that moment is

forever engraved on my heart.

I have not yet seen or heard from my father, but I have no doubts that

someday, when I least expect it, he will appear and say, "Have I told

you yet today that I love you?"❤️❣️