English Stories

A donkey with the right attitude

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A man’s favorite donkey falls into a deep precipice. He can’t pull it out no matter how hard he tries. He therefore decides to bury it alive.

Soil is poured onto the donkey from above. The donkey feels the load, shakes it off, and steps on it. More soil is poured.

It shakes it off and steps up. The more the load was poured, the higher it rose. By noon, the donkey was grazing in green pastures.

After much shaking off (of problems) And stepping up (learning from them), One will graze in GREEN PASTURES.

A small rope

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As a man was passing the elephants, he suddenly stopped, confused by the fact that these huge creatures were being held by only a small rope tied to their front leg. No chains, no cages. It was obvious that the elephants could, at anytime, break away from their bonds but for some reason, they did not.

He saw a trainer nearby and asked why these animals just stood there and made no attempt to get away. “Well,” trainer said, “when they are very young and much smaller we use the same size rope to tie them and, at that age, it’s enough to hold them. As they grow up, they are conditioned to believe they cannot break away. They believe the rope can still hold them, so they never try to break free.”

The man was amazed. These animals could at any time break free from their bonds but because they believed they couldn’t, they were stuck right where they were.

Like the elephants, how many of us go through life hanging onto a belief that we cannot do something, simply because we failed at it once before?

Failure is part of learning; we should never give up the struggle in life.

Things that once held us back might not be strong enough to hold us now.

Baby Camel

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A mother and a baby camel were lying around under a tree.

Then the baby camel asked, “Why do camels have humps?”

The mother camel considered this and said, “We are desert animals so we have the humps to store water so we can survive with very little water.”

The baby camel thought for a moment then said, “Ok…why are our legs long and our feet rounded?”

The mama replied, “They are meant for walking in the desert.”

The baby paused. After a beat, the camel asked, “Why are our eyelashes long? Sometimes they get in my way.”

The mama responded, “Those long thick eyelashes protect your eyes from the desert sand when it blows in the wind.

The baby thought and thought. Then he said, “I see. So the hump is to store water when we are in the desert, the legs are for walking through the desert and these eye lashes protect my eyes from the desert then why in the Zoo?”

Painting of the man’s son

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Note: This is a story focused on Christianity. For secular readers, I would suggest to skip this story.

Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting. Together they traveled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the family estate. The widowed, elder man looked on with satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector. The son’s trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.
As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days, his fears were confirmed. The young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic.
Distraught and lonely, the old man faced the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season, a season that he and his son had so looked forward to, would visit his house no longer. On Christmas morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home.
As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hand. He introduced himself to the man by saying, “I was a friend of your son. I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you.” As the two began to talk, the soldier told of how the man’s son had told everyone of his, not to mention his father’s, love of fine art. “I’m an artist,” said the soldier, “and I want to give you this.” As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the son.
Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man’s face in striking detail. Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the soldier, promising to hang the picture over the fireplace. A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his task.
True to his word, the painting went well above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars of paintings. And then the man sat in his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given. During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though his son was no longer with him, the boy’s life would live on because of those he had touched. He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stilled his caring heart.
As the stories of his son’s gallantry continued to reach him, fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease the grief. The painting of his son soon became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the pieces for which museums around the world clamored. He told his neighbors it was the greatest gift he had ever received.
The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art world was in anticipation!
Unmindful of the story of the man’s only son, but in his honor, those paintings would be sold at an auction. According to the will of the old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on Christmas day, the day he had received his greatest gift. The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world’s most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many claim “I have the greatest collection.” The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum’s list. It was the painting of the man’s son. The auctioneer asked for an opening bid. The room was silent.
“Who will open the bidding with $100?” he asked. Minutes passed. No one spoke. From the back of the room came, “Who cares about that painting? It’s just a picture of his son. Let’s forget it and go on to the good stuff.”
More voices echoed in agreement. “No, we have to sell this one first,” replied the auctioneer. “Now, who will take the son?” Finally, a friend of the old man spoke, “Will you take ten dollars for the painting? That’s all I have. I knew the boy, so I’d like to have it.”
“I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?” called the auctioneer. After more silence, the auctioneer said, “Going once, going twice. Gone.” The gavel fell, cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, “Now we can get on with it and we can bid on these treasures!”
The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced the auction was over. Stunned disbelief quieted the room. Someone spoke up and asked, “What do you mean it’s over? We didn’t come here for a picture of some old guy’s son. What about all of these paintings? There are millions of dollars of art here! I demand that you explain what’s going on here!” The auctioneer replied, “It’s very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever takes the son…gets it all.”
Puts things into perspective doesn’t it? Just as those art collectors discovered on that Christmas Day, the message is still the same: the love of a Father, a Father whose greatest joy came from His Son, who went away and gave His life rescuing others. And because of that Father’s love, whoever takes the Son, gets it all.
If you take Jesus.. Rest all will be given to you…

Makes sense now

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Note: This is a story focused on Christianity. For secular readers, I would suggest to skip this story.

There was once a man who did not believe in either the virgin birth of Christ or the spiritual meaning behind it, and was skeptical even about God. He and his family lived in a farm community. His wife was a devout believer and diligently raised her children in the faith. He sometimes gave her a hard time about her belief and mocked her religious observances.

“It’s all nonsense — why would God lower himself and become a human like us? It’s such a ridiculous story,” he said.

One snowy day, she and the children left for church while he stayed home. After they had departed, the winds grew stronger and the snow turned into a blinding snowstorm. He sat down to relax before the fire for the evening.

Then he heard a loud thump, something hitting against the window… And, still another thump. He looked outside but could not see anything. So he ventured outside for a better view. In the field near his house he saw, of all the strangest things, a flock of geese. They were apparently flying to look for a warmer area down south, but they had been caught in the snowstorm. The storm had become too blinding and violent for the geese to fly or see their way. They were stranded on his farm, with no food or shelter, unable to do more than flutter their wings and fly in aimless circles. He had compassion for them and wanted to help them. He thought to himself, the barn would be a great place for them to stay. It is warm and safe; surely they could spend the night and wait out the storm. So he opened the barn doors for them.

He waited, watching them, hoping they would notice the open barn and go inside. Nevertheless, they did not notice the barn or realize what it could mean for them. He moved closer toward them to get their attention, but they just moved away from him out of fear.

He went into the house and came back with some bread, broke it up, and made a bread trail to the barn. They still did not catch on.

Starting to get frustrated, he went over and tried to shoo them toward the barn. They panicked and scattered into every direction except toward the barn. Nothing he did could get them to go into the barn where there was warmth, safety, and shelter. Feeling totally frustrated, he exclaimed, “Why don’t they follow me? Can’t they see this is the only place where they can survive the storm? How can I possibly get them into the one place to save them?”

He thought for a moment and realized that they just would not follow a human. He said to himself, “How can I possibly save them? The only way would be for me to become like those geese. If only I could become like one of them. Then I could save them. They would follow me and I would lead them to safety.”

At that moment, he stopped and considered what he had said. The words reverberated in his mind: If only I could become like one of them, then I could save them. Then, at last, he understood God’s heart towards mankind… and he fell on his knees in the snow.

Little Johnny and the Goose

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Little Johnny visiting his grandparents was given his first slingshot.  He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit his target.

As he came back to Grandma’s back yard, he spied her pet goose.  On an impulse he took aim and let fly.  The stone hit, and the goose fell dead.

The boy panicked.  Desperately he hid the dead goose in the wood pile, only to look up and see his sister watching.  Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch that day, Grandma said, “Sally, let’s wash the dishes.”  But Sally said, “Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen today. Didn’t you Johnny?”  And she whispered to him, “Remember the goose!”  So Johnny did the dishes.

Later, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing.  Grandma said, “I’m sorry, but I need Sally to help me make supper.”  Sally smiled and said, “That’s all taken care of.  Johnny wants to do it.”  Again she whispered, “Remember the goose.”  Johnny stayed while Sally went fishing.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally’s, finally he couldn’t stand it.  He confessed to Grandma that he’d killed the goose.

“I know, Johnny,” she said, giving him a hug.  “I was standing at the window and saw the whole thing.  Because I love you, I forgave you.  But I wondered how long you would let Sally make a slave of you.”

 
This is how we let our guilt dictate for life. As a believer in Christ, we must be aware that Christ has paid the price for our sins 2000 years ago. Its easy to go to God than covering up our mistakes. God had seen everything. He knows. Yet he choose to forgive. Its up to us to take it.

Donuts for Pushups

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Note: This is a story focused on Christianity. For secular readers, I would suggest to skip this story.

There was a boy by the name of Steve who was attending school in a western state. Mr. Christianson taught at this particular school. He had an open-door policy and would take in any student that had been thrown out of another class as long as they would abide by his rules. Steve had been kicked out of his sixth period and no other teacher wanted him, so he went into Mr. Christianson’s class. Steve was told that he could not be late, so he arrived just seconds before the bell rang and he would sit in the very back of the room. He would also be the first to leave after the class was over. One day, Mr. Christianson asked Steve to stay after class so he could talk with him. After class, Mr. Christianson pulled Steve aside and said, “You think you’re pretty tough, don’t you?”

Steve’s answer was, “Yeah, I do.”
Then Mr. Christianson asked, “How many push-ups can you do?”
Steve said, “I do about 200 every night.”
“200? That’s pretty good, Steve,” Mr. Christianson said. “Do you think you could do 300?”
Steve replied, “I don’t know… I’ve never done 300 at a time.”
“Do you think you could?” Again asked Mr. Christianson.
“Well, I can try,” said Steve.
“Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I need you to do 300 in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do it? I need you to tell me you can do it,” Mr. Christianson said.
Steve said, “Well… I think I can… yeah, I can do it.”
Mr. Christianson said, “Good! I need you to do this on Friday.”
Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in the front of the room. When class started, Mr. Christianson pulled out a big box of donuts. Now these weren’t the normal kinds of donuts, they were the extra fancy BIG kind, with cream centers and frosting swirls. Everyone was pretty excited-it was Friday, the last class of the day, and they were going to get an early start on the weekend.
Mr. Christianson went to the first girl in the first row and asked, “Cynthia, do you want a donut?”
Cynthia said, “Yes.”
Mr. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, “Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Cynthia can have a donut?”
Steve said, “Sure,” and jumped down from his desk to do a quick ten.
Then Steve again sat in his desk. Bro. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia’s desk. Mr. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person, and asked, “Joe do you want a donut?”
Joe said, “Yes.”
Mr. Christianson asked, “Steve would you do ten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?” Steve did ten push-ups, Joe got a donut. And so it went, down the first aisle, Steve did ten pushups for every person before they got their donut. And down the second aisle, till Mr. Christianson came to Scott. Scott was captain of the football team and center of the basketball team. He was very popular and never lacking for female companionship. When Mr. Christianson asked, “Scott do you want a donut?” Scott’s reply was, “Well, can I do my own pushups?”
Mr. Christianson said, “No, Steve has to do them.”
Then Scott said, “Well, I don’t want one then.”
Mr. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked “Steve, would you do ten pushups so Scott can have a donut he doesn’t want?”
Steve started to do ten pushups. Scott said, “HEY! I said I didn’t want one!”
Mr. Christianson said, “Look, this is my classroom, my class, my desks, and my donuts. Just leave it on the desk if you don’t want it.” And he put a donut on Scott’s desk.
Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a little. He just stayed on the floor between sets because it took too much effort to be getting up and down. You could start to see a little perspiration coming out around his brow. Mr. Christianson started down the third row. Now the students were beginning to get a little angry.
Mr. Christianson asked Jenny, “Jenny, do you want a donut?”
Jenny said, “No.”
Then Mr. Christianson asked Steve, “Steve, would you do ten pushups so Jenny can have a donut that she doesn’t want?” Steve did ten, Jenny got a donut.
By now, the students were beginning to say “No” and there were all these uneaten donuts on the desks. Steve was also having to really put forth a lot of effort to get these pushups done for each donut. There began to be a small pool of sweat on the floor beneath his face, his arms and brow were beginning to get red because of the physical effort involved. Mr. Christianson asked Robert to watch Steve to make sure he did ten pushups in a set because he couldn’t bear to watch all of Steve’s work for all of those uneaten donuts. So Robert began to watch Steve closely. Mr. Christianson started down the fourth row.
During his class, however, some students had wandered in and sat along the heaters located on the sides of the room. When Mr. Christianson realized this; he did a quick count and saw 34 students in the room. He started to worry if Steve would be able to make it.
Mr. Christianson went on to the next person and the next and the next. Near the end of that row, Steve was really having a rough time. He was taking a lot more time to complete each set.
Steve asked Mr. Christianson, “Do I have to make my nose touch on each one?”
Mr. Christianson thought for a moment, “Well, they’re your pushups.. You can do them any way that you want.” And Mr. Christianson went on.
A few moments later, Jason came to the room and was about to come in when all the students yelled, “NO! Don’t come in! Stay out!”
Jason didn’t know what was going on. Steve picked up his head and said, “No, let him come in.”
Mr. Christianson said, “You realize that if Jason comes in you will have to do ten pushups for him.”
Steve said, “Yes, let him come in.”
Mr. Christianson said, “Okay, I’ll let you get Jason’s out of the way right now. Jason, do you want a donut?”
“Yes.”
“Steve, will you do ten pushups so that Jason can have a donut?” Steve did ten pushups very slowly and with great effort. Jason, bewildered, was handed a donut and sat down.
Mr. Christianson finished the fourth row, then started among those seated on the heaters. Steve’s arms were now shaking with each pushup in a struggle to lift himself against the force of gravity. Sweat was dropping off of his face and, by this time, there was not a dry eye in the room.
The very last two girls in the room were cheerleaders and very popular. Mr. Christianson went to Linda, the second to last, and asked, “Linda, do you want a doughnut? Linda said, very sadly, “No, thank you.”
Mr. Christianson asked Steve, “Steve, would you do ten pushups so that Linda can have a donut she doesn’t want?”
Grunting from the effort, Steve did ten very slow pushups for Linda..
Then Mr. Christianson turned to the last girl, Susan. “Susan, do you want a donut?” Susan, with tears flowing down her face, asked, “Mr. Christianson, can I help him?”
Mr. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, “No, he has to do it alone, Steve, would you do ten pushups so Susan can have a donut?”
As Steve very slowly finished his last pushup, with the understanding that he had accomplished all that was required of him, having done 350 pushups, his arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.
Mr. Christianson turned to the room and said.
“This is how it was with our Savior, Jesus Christ.  He said to the Father, “Into thy hands I commend my spirit.” With the understanding that He had done everything that was required of Him, he collapsed on the cross and died – even for those that didn’t want His gift. And just like some of those in this room, many choose not to accept the gift that was provided for them.

Value

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An young man was so depressed, He had a tough question in his mind. He wanted to know the value of him. This is a question, which no one was able to give a convincing answer to. Hence he decided to ask a wise man to evaluate him. He hoped that the wise man will give him the answer for his question.  The wise man, instead handed him a stone crystal asked him to enquire people for its value but never to sell it. By this the man was so annoyed, he came in hope to know his value, now he has to find the value of an useless stone.

Firstly, He went to a fruit seller and asked the stone’s value. Fruit Seller said He can get a dozen of apples in exchange with the stone. Remembering the Wise Man’s advice. He was not ready to sell it.

Secondly, He went to a potter and asked the stone’s value. Potter was interested in buying the stone. He offered a beautiful vase for an exchange. Surprised at the knowledge of better value. He moved away rejecting the offer.

Thirdly, He went to a Jeweller and asked the Jeweller to value the stone. Jeweller enchanted by the beauty of the stone, offered to pick any expensive jewel in his shop. Which was politely declined by the man wondering why the value of the stone is getting expensive every passing minute. He wanted to get to the end of it. So He decided to ask the King of the state.

Reaching King’s palace, He showed the Stone to the King and requested if King can evaluate the Stone for him. King said it is a very expensive stone and offered half his kingdom if he agrees to sell the stone to King. For which he was a bit tempted however keeping the wise man’s advice in mind. He walked towards wise man’s hut to say about the value of the stone.

While upon reaching the hut, He shared his experience. Wise man laughed at him and replied just like the stone, He cannot be evaluated as well. Since People value based on their knowledge. But there will be always more value to anything than we will ever know. 

Before they call, I will answer.

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This is a testimony written  by a doctor who worked in Africa.

One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive; as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator). We also had no special feeding facilities.

Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in.  
   
Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates).  “And it is our last hot water  bottle!” she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles.  They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.

“All right,”  I said,  “put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm.”

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.

During prayer time, one ten -year-old  girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children.  “Please, God” she prayed, “Send us a hot water bottle today.  It’ll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon.”

While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, “And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she’ll know You really love her?”

As often with children’s prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say “Amen?” I just did not believe that God could do this.

Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything; the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren’t there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever, received a parcel from home.  Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put  in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses’ training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the verandah was a large 22-pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly.  Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly-colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas – that would make a batch of buns for the weekend.

Then, as I put my hand in again, I  felt the…..could it really be?

I grasped it and pulled it out. Yes, a brand new, rubber hot water bottle. I cried.  I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could.

Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, “If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!”

Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully-dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted!  Looking up at me, she asked, “Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she’ll know that Jesus really loves her?”

“Of course,” I replied!

That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God’s prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator.

And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child – five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it “that afternoon.”

“Before they call, I will answer.” (Isaiah 65:24)

When you receive this, say a prayer. Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. Let’s continue praying for one another.

Dog's Life!

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This is not an Inspirational Story, But however it ll bring out a smile.
A butcher watching over his shop was really surprised when he saw a dog coming inside the shop. He kicks it away. But later, the dog is back again. So, he goes over to the dog and notices he has a note in his mouth.
He takes the note and it reads, “Can I have 12 sausages and a leg of lamb, please. I have money in my mouth, as well”.
The butcher looks inside and, behold, a ten dollar note. So he takes the money and puts the sausages and lamb in a bag, placing it in the dog’s mouth.
The butcher is so impressed, and since it’s about closing time, he decides to shut up shop and follow the dog. So off he goes.
The dog walked down the street when he came to a level crossing. The dog put down the bag, jumped up and pressed the button.
Then he waited patiently, tbag in mouth, for the lights to turn. They do, and he walked  across the road, with the butcher following him all the way.
The dog then came  to a bus stop, and started looking at the timetable. The butcher is in awe at this stage. The dog checked out the times, and then sat on one of the seats provided.
Along came a bus. The dog walked around to the front, looked at the number, and went back to his seat. Another bus came. Again the dog went and looked  at the number, noticed it’s the right bus, and climbs on.
The butcher, by now, open-mouthed, followed him onto the bus. The bus traveled through the town and out into the suburbs. The dog was looking at the scenery.
Eventually he got up, and moved to the front of the bus. He stood on 2 back paws and pushed the button to stop the bus. Then he got off, his groceries still in his mouth.
Well, dog and butcher were walking along the road, and then the dog turned into a house.
He walked up the path, and dropped the groceries on the step. Then he walked back down the path, took a big run, and threw himself against the door.
He went back down the path, ran up to the door and again, it threw himself against it.
There was no answer at the house. So the dog went back down the path, jumped up on a narrow wall, and walked along the perimeter of the garden. He got to the window, and beats his head against it several times, walked back, jumped off, and waited at the door.
The butcher watched as a big guy opened the door, and started abusing the dog, kicking him and punching him, and swearing at him.
The butcher ran up, and stopped the guy. “What in heaven’s name are you doing? The dog is a genius! He could be on TV, for the life of me!!”
To which the guy responds:
“You call this clever? This is the second time this week that this stupid dog’s forgotten his key.”
—-Moral of the story—-
You may continue to exceed onlookers’ expectations, but shall always fall short of the boss’s expectations!!