Bear's Inspirations

The Way Home Steve Reinhard tells a heartwarming story about a little girl who walked home from school every day. The quickest way home for her was through the town's cemetery. It was her favorite time of day. She loved to feel the breeze in her hair and to watch the birds. Sometimes she just threw herself on the soft, green grass and watched clouds turn into castles and angels and great white stallions. As she skipped around grave stones, she whistled her favorite tune or sa...ng a song. Other times, she liked to kneel down and read the names and dates on gravestones, and to glide her fingers across the engraved lettering. She particularly enjoyed those walks through the graveyard. Still, her friends asked, "Why do you walk through the cemetery after school?" That's easy, she would always reply. "Because it's the way home." In an ultimate sense, that is true, isn't it? The way home is always through the cemetery. And it does not have to be a fearful passage at all, this way that leads home. It is a trip we can actually look forward to with joy. Which is good to know, especially when we're holding the hand of one who is about to make the voyage. Or when we are ready to go ourselves. Steve Goodier www.bearsinspirations.homestead.com

The Spoon A pastor had dinner at the home of a couple in his church. After he left, the wife said to the husband, I think he stole our spoon! This bothered her for a whole year. A year later the couple had the pastor for dinner again. Unable to resist, the wife asked, Did you steal our spoon last year? The pastor replied, No, I put it inside your Bible.

When The Wind Blows Years ago a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the fanner interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals. Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. "Are you a good farmhand?"... the farmer asked him. "Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man. Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him. The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work. Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the fanner grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters. He shook the little man and yelled, "Get up! A storm is coming tie things down before they blow away!" The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No sir. I told you, can sleep when the wind blows. " Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred. The shutters were tight1y secured. Everything was tied down. Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while the wind blew. www.bearsinspirations.homestead.com

Adversity A daughter complained to her father about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved a new one arose. Her father, a chef, took her to the kitchen. He filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to a boil. In one he placed carrots, in the second he placed eggs, and the last he placed gro...Continue reading

The Trouble Tree The carpenter I hired to help me restore an old farmhouse had just finished a rough first day on the job. A flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw quit, and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start. While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching tips of the branches with both hands. When opening the door,... he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss. Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier. Oh, that's my trouble tree," he replied. "I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one thing's for sure, troubles don't belong in the house with my wife and the children. So I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home. Then in the morning I pick them up again." "Funny thing is," he smiled, "when I come out in the morning to pick 'em up, there ain't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before." www.bearsinspirations.homestead.com