Children’s Land

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, ‘Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over.”

I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. ‘I will come next Tuesday’, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house, I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.

‘Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!’

My daughter smiled calmly and said, ‘ We drive in this all the time, Mother.’

‘Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears, and then I’m heading for home!’ I assured her.

‘But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks,’ Carolyn said. ‘I’ll drive. I’m used to this.’

‘Carolyn,’ I said sternly, ‘Please turn around.’

‘It’s all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.’

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a s mall gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, ‘Daffodil Garden.’

We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

‘Who did this?’ I asked Carolyn.

‘Just one woman,’ Carolyn answered. ‘She lives on the property. That’s her home.’ Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. ‘Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking’, was the headline.

The first answer was Read the rest of this entry »

The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box.

“There are 5 things you need to know,” he told the pencil, “Before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be.”

“One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone’s hand.”

“Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you’ll need it to become a better pencil.”

“Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.”

“Four: The most important part of you will always be what’s inside.”

“And Five: On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write.”

The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart.

Now replacing the place of the pencil with you. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best person you can be.

One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in God’s hand. And allow other human beings to access you for the many gifts you possess.

Two: Read the rest of this entry »

Once upon a time there lived a very rich King, whose name was Midas. He had one little daughter whom he loved very much, and whose name was Marigold.

King Midas loved gold more than anything else in the world, except his little daughter.

One day Midas was enjoying the sight of gold in his treasure room, when a stranger appeared before him.

“You are a rich man, King Midas,” he said. “You have a lot of gold in this room. Nobody else in the world has as much.”

“Yes, I have,” answered Midas, “but not as much as I wish to have. I wish everything that I touch to be changed to gold.”

“The Golden Touch?” said the stranger. “But are you quite sure that this will make you happy?”

“Of course, I am,” said Midas.

“And will you never be sorry to have the Golden Touch?”

”Never!” cried Midas. “I’ll be very happy”. “Be it as you wish then,” replied the stranger.

“Tomorrow at sunrise you will get the Golden Touch.” In the morning, when the sun rose, the King woke up and saw that his bed had been changed to gold.

Midas was very glad, indeed.

He jumped out of bed and ran about the room touching everything. He took up a book, and turned over the leaves; at once the leaves changed to gold, and the words of the book could not be read.

He put on his clothes and found himself dressed in gold which was very heavy. He took out his handkerchief, and it also became gold.

In the garden he found a great number of beautiful roses. He went from bush to bush touching each one as he passed until every flower was changed to gold. Then, very happy, he went back to the palace to have breakfast.

King Midas sat at table waiting for little Marigold. Soon she came into the room, crying.

“Now, now, my little lady!” cried Midas. “What is the matter with you, this bright morning?”

Marigold held a rose in one of her hands. It was one of the roses Midas had turned into gold.

“Beautiful!” cried her father.

“Ah, dear Father, it is not beautiful. I ran into the garden to get some roses for you. But, oh, dear, dear, there are no more beautiful roses there. They no longer smell sweet, and they are quite yellow.”

“Oh, my dear little girl, don’t cry about it,” said Midas. “Sit down and eat your breakfast.”

Then he took a cup of coffee and wanted to drink it. He was astonished to find that he could not. When his lips touched the coffee, it became gold. Then he put a nice little fish on his plate and carefully touched its tail with his finger. It at once changed to gold.

“I don’t quite see,” he thought to himself, “how I’ll have my breakfast.” Read the rest of this entry »

An old English Fairy Tale

One winter evening a poor peasant was sitting near the fire talking with his wife about one of their neighbours who was a rich man.

“If only I had a little money myself,” he said, “I should open my own shop”.

“I,” answered his wife, “should not be satisfied with that, I should be happy if I lived in a big house, and then, if I saw people like ourselves, I should help them and try to make everybody happy. But what is the use of talking, we are no longer I the time of fairies. If only I could meet one of them, it would not take me long to decide what to ask of her.”

Hardly has she said these words when a beautiful young lade appeared in their room and told them she was a fairy willing to grant them the first three wishes. But she said they should choose with care as she could allow them no more than three wishes. Then the beautiful fairy disappeared.

At first the husband and wife were astonished. Then they began discussing the first wish that it would be best to have. They quarreled for a long time and finally decided to wish nothing for a while and put it off till the next day.

The woman looked at the bright fire and said without thinking:

“Oh! It would not be a bad thing to have good sausage for our supper.”

She had hardly finished these words when a long thick sausage fell on their table. The husband got very angry and began scolding his wife.

“Isn’t that a fine wish?! A sausage! You are such a stupid woman! I wish this sausage would stick to your nose!”

This was hardly said when the sausage jumped up and stuck to the poor woman’s nose.

“What have you done?!” cried the frightened woman.

The husband understood that he himself had been even more foolish than his wife, but no matter how he tried he could not tear the sausage off his wife’s nose. Read the rest of this entry »

There was a farmer who had a little gate which opened from his yard into a field. This little gate wanted a latch and therefore would not be fastened.

The result was that the gate was generally either flapping backward and forward in the wind or standing wide open.

In this way the poultry used to get out and the cattle used to get in. It took up half the children’s time to run after the chicks and drive them back into the yard and send the cattle back into the field.

“If you don’t mend the latch”, said the farmer’s wife, “the cattle will spoil all the kitchen garden”.

But the farmer replied, “If I bought a latch, it would cost me sixpenny, but it is not worth while”.

So the gate remained without a latch.

One day a fat pig got out of its sty and, as the gate was wide open, ran into the field.

“Oh, you fool”, Read the rest of this entry »