Den var väldigt fin. Jag fick hem den som rip fil, och valde extract here så fixade den att den öppnades i det program som var lämpligast på just min dator.

Visst är den fin! Jag hade nästan glömt bort att jag hade den och tog upp den och tänkte att det är en "grej" som borde passa här.

Du har otroligt mycket saker som du hittar som passar här. Jag blir alltid så glad när jag öppnar dina trådar.

Roligt att höra!

Som jag skrivit innan så gillar jag Goda Nyheter och tycker det är en jätte bra sajt och den är värd att posta härliga och positiva saker i (önskar bara att fler hittade hit). Kanske vi får ha en slogan tävling här också?!

PS. Hur går det med hårinpackningen? Har du hunnit att testa den ännu? DS.

Kina,helt underbart både text och musik. Tänkbara och värdefulla ord. Du är helt fenomenal. En skatt att vara vän med dig.

Visst är den fin, Harriet!

Den är så tidlös och så enkel på samma gång och så säger den SÅ mycket…!

Att vara vän med dig, Harriet, ser jag som en stor gåva!

#4: Ja det är kanske dax med en slogan tävling. Ska fundera ut något bra pris bara så återkommer jag :-)

Och nej, jag har inte testat hårinpackningen ännu :-)

Här kommer något tänkbart som jag fick,men ni får läsa den på engelska,Det handlar om en liten pojke som hade slagit sig på fingret och det gjorde ont.Ingen var hemma som fanns till hands för att trösta honom. Men vid flera tillfällen hade han iakttagit någon av sina föräldrar som pratade i telefon och som först kommit i kontakt med telefonisten,som kopplat dem vidare.

Detta kom han ihåg och lyftade på luren och telefonisten svarade och de kom att bli goda vänner genom livet. Där fanns någon som hade tid att lyssna och trösta. Jag tog mig fräckheten att prångla in den under samma rubrik som Kina,eftersom detta också handlar om att ta sig tid.

              THE OLD PHONE  

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger…" I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer   and it hurts."  "Can you open the icebox?" she  asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.  She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died I called, Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Wayne always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better

Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please." "Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.

Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. "Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said.. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" she said

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said "Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago." Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?" "Yes." I answered.

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.

Let me read it to you. The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean"

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Whose life have you touched today?

Why not pass this on? I just did….

Lifting you on eagle's wings, may you find the joy and peace you long for.

Life is a journey . NOT a guided tour.

I loved this story and just had to pass it on. I hope you enjoy it and get a blessing from it just as I did.

Ohh, men den var ledsam också. Men den hade en underbar undermening.

Visst var den sorglig, men undermeningen var tänkvärd, precis som i Kinas "Ta dig tid"

#10: Exakt. Så den platsar bra här den med :-)

#8. Harriet, tack för att du postade den underbara texten! Även om den var lite ledsam så gick budskapet fram! Jag gillar när texter ger mig någonting; texten som Harriet postade, eller "Ta dig tid!" eller som "Den lilla nallen…!" som jag postade i en annan tråd.

Så, tack än en gång, Harriet!