“You maybe here for a short while, gone tomorrow into oblivion or until the days come to take you away. But, in whatever part you play, be remembered as part of a legacy…of sharing dreams and changing humanity for the better. It’s that legacy that never dies”
In the past you have heard me say that I thought our chance for human immortality rested in the quality of the legacy we will leave behind. It will be embedded in the changes we have helped to make in our families, our friends, our affiliations and in our community. Often these will be unrecognized by most if not all and yet they will exist. Recognition by others is not at all important but recognition of the value of our efforts is important to ourselves for it is how we can measure our worth.
This morning I was browsing through some e-mails and one started me thinking again about legacies. I, like most have thought of legacy in terms of a life well lived but today I realized that we in fact leave a legacy each day of our lives. The things I do today will remain after the day has gone. The opportunity to do something for someone else exists in the moment that the opportunity to help presents itself. The volunteer opportunity that exists today will not be there tomorrow. What I like about my new realization is that it helps me understand that what might appear on the service to be of little importance in the scheme of things that at that moment it really is. If I examine each opportunity as if today will be my last day the resulting focused view of what I will do takes on new meaning.
Some have said that we should periodically write our own eulogy while we still have time to edit and rewrite it through the life we have left to live. I now feel that spending a few minutes at the end of each day to mentally write my eulogy based on what I did that day will be well worth doing. If my legacy today is wanting, I can make sure I do a better job tomorrow. As time goes by each days legacy becomes a sentence, each week a paragraph, each month a chapter and in the end we will have written our life book, hopefully one that is worth reading.
As always today is our day, we can’t go back, and tomorrow may never come, so do well and when you do you’ll be pleased that you did. Also don’t worry if great opportunity is not there for you, for it is in the little things that great things get done, so smile at a stranger, thank someone for just being themselves and if you can help the fallen stand.
“Our days are numbered. One of the primary goals in our lives should be to prepare for our last day. The legacy we leave is not just in our possessions, but in the quality of our lives. What preparations should we be making now? The greatest waste in all of our earth, which cannot be recycled or reclaimed, is our waste of the time that God has given us each day.”
A nun is sitting with her Mother Superior chatting. "I used some horrible language this week and feel absolutely terrible about it."
"When did you use this awful language?" asks the elder.
"Well, I was golfing and hit an incredible drive that looked like it was going to go over 280 yards, but it struck a phone line that was hanging over the fairway and fell straight down to the ground after going only about 10 yards."
"Is that when you swore?"
"No, Mother," says the nun. "After that, a squirrel ran out of the bushes and grabbed my ball in its mouth and began to run away."
"Is THAT when you swore?" asks the Mother Superior again.
"Well, no." says the nun. "You see, as the squirrel was running, an eagle came down out of the sky, grabbed the squirrel in his talons and began to fly away!"
"Is THAT when you swore?" asks the amazed elder nun.
"No, not yet. As the eagle carried the squirrel away in its claws, it flew near the green and the squirrel dropped my ball."
"Did you swear THEN?" asked Mother Superior, becoming impatient.
"No, because the ball fell on a big rock, bounced over the sand trap, rolled onto the green, and stopped about six inches from the hole."
The two nuns were silent for a moment. Then Mother Superior sighed and said, "You missed the &#$&@*% putt, didn’t you?"
I used to be schizophrenic, but we’re OK now.
A woman was telling her friend: "It is I who made my husband a millionaire."
"And what was he before you married him?" the friend asked.
The woman replied, "He was a multi-millionaire."
Law of the Search – The first place to look for any thing is the last place you would expect to find it.
The police recently busted a man selling ‘secret formula’ tablets he claimed gave eternal youth. When going through their files they noticed it was the fifth time he was caught for committing this same criminal medical fraud. He had earlier been arrested in 1794, 1856, 1928 and 1983………..
Stick with the optimists. It’s going to be tough enough even if they’re right.
A three-year-old went with his dad to see a litter of kittens. On returning home, he breathlessly informed his mother there were two boy kittens and two girl kittens. "Daddy picked them up and looked underneath," he replied. "I think it’s printed on the bottom."
"I hope that while so many people are out smelling the flowers, someone is taking the time to plant some."
I’m not saying our new receptionist is dumb, but this is how she filled out her insurance forms:
Date of Birth: January 12, 1978
Weight: 6 pounds, 10 ounces
Height: 20 inches
"She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B."
A study conducted by UCLA’s Department of Psychiatry has revealed that the kind of face a woman finds attractive on a man can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle.
For example: If she is ovulating, she is attracted to men with rugged and masculine features. However, if she is menstruating or menopausal, she tends to be more attracted to a man with duct tape over his mouth and a spear lodged in his forehead while he is on fire.
No further studies are expected.
"Every man serves a useful purpose: A miser, for example, makes a wonderful ancestor."
Laurence J. Peter
Miss Jones had been giving her second-grade students a lesson on science. She had explained about magnets and showed how they would pick up nails and other bits of iron.
Later it was question time, and she asked, "My name begins with the letter ‘M’ and I pick up things. What am I?"
A little boy on the front row proudly said, "You’re a mother."
To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.
Henri L. Bergson
Stay well, do good work, and have fun.
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The editor is somewhat senile.
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