Some short inspirational stories....NOT CF RELATED!

[Guest guest]

Gold Nuggets: Short messages that grab the attention, the imagination, the

heart and spirit, are helpful teaching tools, and many leaders use them to frame

and reinforce what they are trying to convey through other mediums. They are

part of a profound oral tradition that has its roots in sermons, political

discourse, debate and storytelling.

The title of this page and even some of its contents are from a most

wonderful collection called, " Gold Nuggets, readings for experiential education "

edited by Jim Schoel and Mike Stratton, Published by Project Adventure, Inc.

The One

As the old man walked the beach at dawn, he noticed a young man ahead of him

picking up starfish and flinging them into the sea.

Finally, catching up to the youth, he asked him why he was doing this. The

answer was that the stranded starfish would die if left in the morning sun.

" But the beach goes on for miles and there are millions of starfish, "

countered the other. " How can your effort make any difference? " The young man

looked

at the starfish in his hand and then threw it safely in the waves. " It makes a

difference to this one, " he said.

Real Education

Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how

to be, I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate

school mountain, but there in the sandbox at nursery school. These are the

things I learned: Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back

where you found them. Clean up you own mess. Don't take things that aren't

yours. Say your sorry when you hurt someone. Wash your hands before you eat.

Flush. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you. Live a balanced life. Learn

some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work

every

day some. Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out into the world, watch

for traffic, hold hands and stick together. Be aware of wonder. Remember the

little seed in the plastic cup. The roots go down and the plant goes up and

nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that. Goldfish and hamsters

and white mice and even the little seed in the plastic cup - they all die. So do

we. And remember the book about Dick and Jane and the first word you learned,

the biggest word of all: LOOK. Everything you need to know is in there

somewhere. The Golden Rule ad love and basic sanitation. Ecology and politics

and

same living. Think of what a better world it would be if we all - the whole

world - had cookies and milk about 3 o'clock every afternoon and then lay down

with blankets for a nap. Or if we had a basic policy in our nation to always put

things back where we found them and cleaned up our own messes. And it is still

true, no matter how old you are, when you go out into the world, it is best

to hold hands and stick together.

by Fulghum

Opportunity

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun

threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly without an

appointment into the president's outer office. The secretary could tell in a

moment that such backwoods country hicks had no business at Harvard and probably

didn't even deserve to be in Cambridge. She frowned. " We want to see the

president " , the man said softly. " He'll be busy all day, " the secretary snapped.

" We'll wait, " the lady replied.

For hours the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally

become discouraged and go away. They didn't. And the secretary grew frustrated

and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she

always regretted to do. " Maybe if they just see you for a few minutes, they'll

leave, " she told him. And he sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his

importance obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, but he detested

gingham dresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office. The

president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple. The lady told

him,

" We had a son that attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard. He was

happy here. But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. And my husband and

I

would like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere on campus " .

The president wasn't touched, he was shocked. " Madam, " he said gruffly, " We

can't put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we

did, this place would look like a cemetery " . " Oh, no, " the lady explained

quickly, " We don't want to erect a statue. We thought we would like to give a

building to Harvard. " The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham

dress

and homespun suit, then exclaimed, " A building! Do you have any earthly idea

how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars

invested in the physical plant at Harvard " . For a moment the lady was silent.

The

president was pleased. He could get rid of them now.

At that, the lady turned to her husband and said quietly, " Is that all it

costs to start a University? Why don't we just start our own? " Her husband

nodded. The president's face wilted in confusion and bewilderment. And Mr. and

Mrs.

Leland Stanford walked away, traveling to Palo Alto, California where they

established the University that bears their name. A memorial to a son that

Harvard no longer cared about.

Challenge

Annie leaned against her locker and sighed. What a day! What a disaster! This

school year wasn't starting out the way she had planned it at all. Of course,

Annie hadn't planned on that new girl, . And she definitely hadn't

planned on the new girl wearing the exact skirt Annie was supposed to be

wearing.

It wasn't just any skirt. Annie had baby-sat three active brothers all summer

to buy that skirt and its designer accent top. When she saw them in her Teen

magazine, Annie knew they were meant for her. She had gone right to the phone

and called the 800 number for the " outlet nearest " her. With price and picture

in hand, she had set off to convince her mother. " It's great, hon., " her

mother agreed. " I just can't see spending as much on one outfit as I do for all

your clothes. " Annie wasn't surprised, but she was disappointed. " Well, if it's

that important, we could put it on layaway, " her mom said. " You'd have to pay

for it, though. " So she did. Every Friday, Annie took all her baby- sitting

money and paid down the balance. She had made her final payment just last week

and hurried home to try on the skirt and top. The moment of truth had arrived

and she was afraid to look. She stood in front of the mirror with her eyes

squeezed shut. She counted to three and forced herself to open them. It was

perfect. From the side, from the back and even from the front, it was perfect.

She

walked, she sat and she turned. She practiced humbly taking compliments so her

friends wouldn't think she was stuck up.

The next day, Annie and her mother gave her bedroom the end of summer " good

going over. " They washed and ironed the Bedspread and curtains, and vacuumed

behind and under everything. Then they sorted through the closets and drawers

for clothes to give away. Annie dreaded all the tugging on and pulling off, the

laundering and the folding into boxes. They dropped the boxes off at Goodwill,

then headed to her grandmother's for the weekend.

When they got home Sunday night, Annie ran straight to her bedroom.

Everything had to be just right for her grand entrance at school the next day.

She

flung open her closet and pulled out her top and her...and her...skirt? It

wasn't

there. It must be here! But it wasn't. " Dad! Mom! " Annie's search became

frantic. Her parents rushed in. Hangers and clothes were flying everywhere. " My

skirt! It isn't here! " Annie stood with her top in one hand and an empty hanger

in the other. " Now, Annie, " her dad said, trying to calm her, " it didn't just

get up and walk away. We'll find it. " But they didn't. For two hours they

searched through closets, drawers, the laundry room, under the bed and even in

the

bed. It just wasn't there. Annie sank into bed that night, trying to figure

out the puzzle. When she woke up the next morning, she felt tired and dull. She

picked out something - anything - to wear. Nothing measured up to her summer

daydreams.

It was at her school locker that the puzzle became, well, more puzzling.

" You're Annie, right? " a voice said from behind her. Annie turned. Shock waves

hit

her. That's my skirt. That's my skirt! That's my skirt? " I'm . The

principal gave me the locker next to yours. She thought since we lived on the

same block and I'm new here, you could show me around. " Her voice trailed off,

unsure. Annie just stared. How...? Where...? Is that my...? seemed

uneasy. " You don't have to. I told her we didn't really know each other. We've

only

passed each other on the sidewalk. "

That was true. Annie and had passed each other, Annie to and from her

baby-sitting job and in her fast-food uniform that smelled of onions

and grease at the end of the day. Annie pulled her thoughts back to 's

words. " Sure. I'll be happy to show you around, " Annie said, not happy at all.

The entire day, friends gushed over and the skirt while Annie stood

by with a stiff smile.

And now Annie was waiting to walk home, hoping to sort this out. They

chatted all the way to Annie's house before she worked up the nerve to ask

the big question. " Where did you get your skirt, ? " " Isn't it beautiful?

My mom and I saw it in a magazine while we were waiting for my grandma at the

doctor's office. " " Oh, your mom bought it for you. " " Well, no. "

lowered her voice. " We've had kind of a hard time lately. Dad lost his job, and

my

grandma was sick. We moved here to take care of her while my dad looked for

work. " All that went right over Annie's head. " You must have saved most of your

paycheck then. " blushed. " I saved all my money and gave it to my mom to

buy school clothes for my brother and sister. " Annie couldn't stand it.

" Where did you get your skirt? " stammered, " My mother found it at

Goodwill

in a box that was dropped off just as she got there. Mom opened it, and there

was the skirt from the magazine, brand new, with the tags still on it! "

looked up. Goodwill? Brand new? The puzzle pieces finally fell into

place.

smiled, and her face glowed. " My mother knew it was meant for me. She

knew it was a blessing. " " , I... " Annie stopped. This wasn't going to be

easy. " , " Annie tried again, " can I tell you something? " " Sure.

Anything. " " . " Annie took a deep breath. She hesitated for a moment. Then

she

smiled and said, " Do you have a minute to come up to my room? I think I have

a top that would go great with your skirt. "

By M. Hamond

Perfection

In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning disabled

children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while

others can be mainstreamed into conventional schools. At a Chush fundraising

dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be

forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated

staff, he

cried out, " Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is

done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children

do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is

God's perfection? "

The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish, and

stilled by the piercing query. " I believe, " the father answered, " that when

God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in

the way people react to this child. " He then told the following story about

his son Shaya:

One afternoon, Shaya and I walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were

playing baseball. Shaya asked, " Do you think they will let me play? " Shaya's

father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not

want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son were

chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging. Shaya's

father

approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The

boy looked around for guidance from his teammates.

Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, " We are losing by

six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team

and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning. " Shaya's father was

ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to

play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team

scored a few runs but was still behind by three.

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two

outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base.

Shaya was scheduled to be up.

Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their

chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew

that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the

bat

properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shaya stepped up to the plate,

the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least

be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shaya swung clumsily and

missed. One of Shaya's teammates came up to Shaya and together they held the bat

and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a

few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the pitch came in,

Shaya and his teammate swung at the ball and together they hit a slow ground

ball to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily

have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that

would have ended the game.

Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field,

far beyond reach of the first baseman. Everyone started yelling, " Shaya, run

to first. Run to first. " Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He

scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time he reached first

base,

the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second

Baseman that would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right fielder

understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and

far over the 3rd baseman's head. Everyone yelled, " Run to second, run to

second. " Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously

circled the bases towards home.

As Shaya reached second base, the opposing shortstop ran to him, turned him

in the direction of third base and shouted, " Run to third. " As Shaya rounded

third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, " Shaya run home. "

Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their

shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a " grand slam " and won the

game

for his team.

" That day, " said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face,

" those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection. "