Friday, October 5, 2012

(Share) "Recognition - An evil"

There was a farmer who had a horse and a goat….. 
One day, the horse became ill. So he called the veterinarian, who said: 

"Well, your horse has a virus. He must take this medicine for three days. 
I'll come back on the 3rd day and if he's not better, we're going to have to put him down. 

Nearby, the goat listened closely to their conversation. 

The next day, they gave the horse the medicine and left. 

The goat approached the horse and said: “Be strong, my friend. 
Get up or else they're going to put you to sleep!” 

On the second day, they again gave the horse the medicine and left. 

The goat came back and said: "Come on buddy, get up or else you're going to die! 
Come on, I'll help you get up. Let's go! One, two, three..." 

On the third day, they came to give the horse the medicine and the vet said: 
"Unfortunately, we're going to have to put him down tomorrow. Otherwise,
the virus might spread and infect the other horses". 

After they left, the goat approached the horse and said: "Listen pal, it's now or never! 
Get up, come on! Have courage! Come on! Get up! Get up! That's it, slowly! Great! 
Come on, one, two, three... Good, good. Now faster, come on...... Fantastic! Run, run more! 
Yes! Yay! Yes! You did it, you're a champion...!!!" 

All of a sudden, the owner came back, saw the horse running in the field and began shouting: 
It's a miracle! My horse is cured. We must have a grand party. Let's kill the goat!!!!

The Lesson: 
Nobody truly knows which employee actually deserves the merit of success, or who's actually contributing the necessary support to make things happen. 




Moral of the Story :

LEARNING TO LIVE WITHOUT RECOGNITION IS A 
SKILL!!!! 
AMATEURS BUILT THE ARK [which saved all the species] 
and 
PROFESSIONALS BUILT THE TITANIC [all died tragically]

Monday, October 1, 2012

Patience


A sweet lesson on patience.

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive
through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.