Saturday, 29 May 2010


'if '

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

Saturday, 22 May 2010



Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters
Of life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not their thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
And He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies,
So He also loves the bow that is stable.

Khalil Gibran

Friday, 14 May 2010


The scorpion and the Sage

One morning, after he had finished his meditation, the old man opened his eyes and saw a scorpion floating helplessly in the water.

As the scorpion was washed closer to the tree, the old man quickly stretched himself out on one of the long roots that branched out into the river and reached out to rescue the drowning creature.

As soon as he touched it, the scorpion stung him. Instinctively the man withdrew his hand. A minute later, after he had regained his balance, he stretched himself out again on the roots to save the scorpion.

This time the scorpion stung him so badly with its poisonous tail that his hand became swollen and bloody and his face contorted with pain.

At that moment, a passerby saw the old man stretched out on the roots struggling with the scorpion and shouted: "Hey, stupid old man, what's wrong with you? Only a fool would risk his life for the sake of an ugly, evil creature. Don't you know you could kill yourself trying to save that ungrateful scorpion?"

The old man turned his head. Looking into the stranger's eyes he said calmly, "My friend, just because it is the scorpion's nature to sting, that does not change my nature to save."

Sunday, 9 May 2010


Three Hairs

There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head. "Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today." So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head. "Hmmm, " she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today." So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head. "Well," she said, "Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail." So she did and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head....

"YEAH!" she exclaimed, "I don't have to fix my hair today!"

Saturday, 1 May 2010


A Mermaid Named Veronica

There once was a mermaid named Veronica who had very long beautiful hair. All the sea creatures could see her hair coming long before she got there. They would wait to see her, greeting her with enthusiasm and joy.

"Hi, Veronica!! How are you today?" This made Veronica feel very special and loved. She would always answer back, "I'm doing very well, thank you. How are all of you?" Then they would chat for a bit and she would swim on. She became so used to this way of life that it started to become a bit of a rut. She craved something new and different, but wasn't sure what.

One day she knew what she was meant to do: cut off all her beautiful hair. She took a swordfish and cut off every bit of her prized possession. She soon became painfully aware of the fact that no one noticed or greeted her anymore as she swam by. They didn't recognise her and she was too embarrassed to say anything. She knew that they would all ask about her hair and she didn't want to explain why she had cut it. She wept. Nothing seemed to matter anymore: it was as if she had ceased to exist. At times, she desperately wanted her hair back, but deep down she knew that that wasn’t the answer. This depression lasted for many moons until one day she woke up. She looked around. All different colours, shapes and sizes were displayed among the sea life and each mermaid looked completely and totally unique. She realised in that moment that she would always be unique and special, with or without her hair. She didn't need others to notice her in order for her to feel this way. She swam off with glee, knowing she could be happy just the way she was.

Laura Cade

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