I Care for Humanity, Do you?

Please, can you give me a home

2009-12-23T08:24:00.003+03:00

Please, can you give me a home
by Frances Rodriquez

I look in the miorror and what do I see
a little girl looking at me
tears in her eyes just wondering why?
why? did they leave me alone
why? am I here in an building full of kids
not having an mother or father to hold

I cry every night hoping that no one can hear
but hoping someday some one can give me an home,
I watch the other children play
and I know they are feeling the same,
I hear people talking wishing for an baby
but does it matter if I am old,
love comes in differtent sizes and differtent ages and even differtent colors
so can you please give me an home
for I want an mother and father to hold...

Please Don't Let Them See

2009-12-23T08:23:00.003+03:00

Please Don't Let Them See
by Linda M Hill

Please don't let them see
I'm shaking inside
Covering up the bruises
I try so hard to hide
Standing at this blackboard
I can only pray
No one can see the marks
Where Dad beat me yesterday

Please don't let them see
The tears filling my eyes
Or they may see through
My many little lies
Daddy hits me every day
I promised not to tell
He said he would kill me
That I'd burn in hell

Please don't let them see
The nites I spend alone
Hungry and scared
Mommy and Daddy gone
Daddy comes home drinking
Staggering everywhere
Sometimes I close my eyes
And pretend he isn't there

Please don't let them see
The aching scars within
Or they may also notice
The welps on my skin
I must be so careful
I can't let anyone know
The emotions I carry with me
The darkness I can't show

Daddy hits me every day
I promised not to tell
He said he would kill me
That I'd burn in hell

Only The Shadows Heard Her Cry

2009-12-22T15:58:00.001+03:00

Only The Shadows Heard Her Cry
by Linda M Hill

Crowded grocery store
People rushing by
Hoping they don't see
A grown woman cry
I still see his face
Engraved in my mind
After all these years
Peace is hard to find

Panic consumes me
I'm drawn into the past
Crying on bloodstained sheets
Heart beating fast
Teddy bear falls to the floor
A six year old can't fight
My screams of pain went unheard
Swallowed by the night

The shadows simply watched
Innocence ripped away
As my teddy bear slept
And night turned into day
Cigar smoke filled the room
I can't forget the smell
As I lay on crumpled sheets
In my own private hell

Crowded grocery store
But I feel so alone
Except for the feel of his hands
And the stench of cheap cologne

Mommy, Can I talk to you?

2009-12-22T12:53:00.002+03:00

Mommy, Can I Talk To You?
by Linda M Hill

Mommy, can I talk to you - I
have some things to say-
At school I met this little girl-
I made a friend today.
I like her Mommy, she is nice-
but I don't understand-
The other kids don't like her- They
snicker when I hold her hand.
Why do the kids judge her by
the color of her skin -
Why can't they stop and see her
beauty within?

She don't have alot, Mommy, her
family is poor -
She told me that her Daddy drinked-
he dont hug her no more.
Her Mommy's at work after school,
so she's left there alone-
Mommy, can we invite her here,
she can live in our home!
She's really good and I know she
won't need alot-
Just put her in my room , Mommy,
sit up the old cot.

She don't always have enough to
eat, her home is always cold-
Can I give her my teddy bear -
she'll have someone to hold.
Can we do something Mommy,
she's a friend to me-
We can't let her live like this -
she's in misery.
I told her I would ask you Mommy,
Please let her stay here-
I don't want to see her cry , Mommy,
today I saw a tear.

She don't have alot , Mommy, her
family is poor-
She told me that her daddy drinked -
he don't hug her no more...........

I am Just like You

2009-12-22T10:14:00.004+03:00

I'm Just Like You (Handicapped Child)
by Linda M Hill

Don't look so sad
When you look at me
Don't back away
Hoping I won't see
I'm just like you
Except I can't walk
I breathe, I cry
I hurt I talk
Don't look at me
With horror and fear
I don't want to see
The glimmer of a tear
I'm just like you
I dream, I bleed
I'm learning to be strong
To succeed

Don't look at me
With pity on your face
By the grace of God
You could be in my place
I can smile and play
Laugh and sing
If I appy myself
I can do most anything
Being handicapped start's
In your mind
I know that you don't mean
To be unkind
People pass by me
They stop and stare
They whisper and giggle
Like I'm not there

I try to smile
To keep hanging on
But sometime my faith
Is almost gone
Why can't people
Can't understand
I do what they do
I just can't stand
I read, I eat
I sleep, I play
I learn, I laugh
I feel , I pray
I do all these things
Just exactly like you
Don't make fun of me
There's better thing's to do

Friend's left unmade
Because hearts are afraid
Unshed tears
Doubts and fears
I will never grow old
Become a man
So I make live life
The best way I can
I smile
When I want to cry
When I just want to give up
My heart says TRY...
I'm different
But I'm still like you
You're walking away
What did I do

© Linda Hill 2002

Freedom

2009-12-22T09:40:00.000+03:00

Freedom (Child Abuse)
by Linda M Hill

Alcohol on his breath
As he calls to me
Daddy's little girl
Is what everyone sees
Mama passed on
She let cancer win
Daddy said he'd cook
I don't know when
I pick up empty bottles
Of wine and beer
Wishin' I was
Anyplace but here

Nothing in the fridge
But half a bottle of wine
I am so hungry
But its all I can find
I open and pour it
Down the drain
Sometimes I feel
I'm going insane
No friends at school
'Cause everybody knows
The life I lead
I reckon it shows

Daddy stumbles in
For the rest of the wine
I hold the empty bottle
He yells "Thats mine"
The bottle slips from
My tremblin' hand
He grabs for me
He can hardly stand
I scream as he slips
On the jagged glass
Blood spattered everywhere
My heart beats fast

His hands reach for me
As he cries out in pain
All I can hear is the
Pounding of the rain
His lifes blood seeping
All over the floor
All I can think is
He won't hit me no more
Freedom I feel as his
Life fades away
Daddys little girl
I want him to pay

© Linda Hill 2003

Can you imagine what it would be like to be ME?

2009-12-21T09:06:00.000+03:00

Can you imagine what it would be like to be ME?
by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado

a little boy writes of his life and asks others to show more compassion towards people who are like himself--disabled.

can you imagine what it would be like to be ME?
imagine sitting in this chair and being stripped of all hope or dignity.

imagine sitting here, 24 hours a day, with your bum getting sore,
and not knowing if you will be able to take much more.

imagine wearing heavy steel braces upon your legs or walking with crutches;
imagine how your disability affects every bit of life that it touches.

imagine the fear of knowing that you are dying, that there is no known cure for your disease;
imagine that, no matter what i do in life, the fear and pain will never ease.

imagine the teasing i must endure each and every day..
"hey, little crippled boy", "dummy", or "wheelchair-kid", words that hurt in every way.

imagine the fear my family faces whenever i have trouble with my breathing--
not knowing if i will be okay, or not knowing if they will be left crying and grieving.

no, it is NOT easy to be in my shoes--
but it IS my life; and one i DIDN'T choose!

just imagine what i go through, and you will soon see
that in light of what i go through, all i want in life is to be happy and free!

Can I Go Home With You?

2009-12-21T08:51:00.000+03:00

Can I Go Home With You?
by Linda M Hill

I need to talk to someone
May I talk to you?
You are my teacher
Would you tell me what to do?
I don't want to go home
Nothin' for me there
I don't have no Daddy
Or a Mommy to care.
Sometimes you hug me
When I do good
Can you be my Mommy?
Do you think you could?

Let me go home with you
Be your very own
Mommy and Daddy won't miss me
Or notice that I'm gone.
Daddys always at the bar
On the edge of town
Mommy's always gone
She's no where around.
Mommy hits me sometimes
And Daddy hurts me too
I won't be any trouble
If I can go home with you.

All the other kids talk about
Their loving family
Mommy and Daddys who kiss them
To me its fantasy.
I've dreamed for years I could
Have someone to love me
I've prayed to God above
But its just not meant to be.
If I promise to always be good
Do all I'm supposed too
Could you love me as your child
And let me go home with you?

© Linda Hill 2003

Real Pain

2009-12-16T17:24:00.000+03:00

Real Pain
by Abdi-Noor Haji Mohamed (Eagle Of Hope)

In Somalia a girl must be circumcised
before the age of puberty to comply with the long-standing culture and tradition.

Rite of Passage

Birth of a baby must be a blessing event
But mine was just like a curse
Daddy’s face didn’t shine. Drums didn’t make noise
In my culture, gender counts most
A girl is not as welcome as a baby boy
No shots are fired in the air
No ritual ceremony is held

Raising camel in the desert
Is family’s highest priority
They believe a girl has no hands for that
Harsh combat against enemies
Is family’s highest priority
They believe a girl has no heart for that

At five I had to face the worst
A knife cut across my genitals
A midwife circumcised me
Stitched me, infibulated me
Where I should have had a clit
I have a black scar now.
They call it a "Rite of Passage"
But I see it as "The Acme of Injustice"

In the name of culture
unnecessary pain is inflicted upon me
Would this evil act ever be eradicated?

Poverty

2009-12-16T16:48:00.002+03:00

Children playing in the dirt
Tattered clothes handed down
From one villager to the next
The younger ones walk around
Bare bottomed and crying
Diapers are unknown
It’s not a luxury denying
Just something never seen before
So how could it be understood?
The home is made up of a few wooden boards
A tin roof tries to keep out the rain
The floor is more dirt just like outside
Not parquet wood to get stained
Not linoleum, ceramic tiles
And certainly no marble on which to slide
The kitchen is a fire in the corner
A single pot
And perhaps a pan
Dishes are hides that have been tanned
Utensils are hands scooping up food
I’m not trying to be rude
But there is no place to wash up
After a visit to the toilet out back
Perhaps inside another shack
Or just a hole in the ground with attitude

There is no electricity
No power grids to go down
Nightly entertainment is grandpa the clown
Not radio, TV
Or a great book to read
Computer games are not part
Of their consciousness
And the media does not exist
The shower/bath is a bucket of water
Bathing occurs occasionally
When a special time is in order

So if you are unhappy in your life
Go to Africa, Central & South America, Asia
Or other parts where strife
Is just a daily chore
To live each day
Without our customary luxuries
Like electricity and running water

Precious Child

2009-12-16T16:46:00.001+03:00

Precious Child by Michelle R Kidwell Power In The Pen
*Picture of starving children gather ants to eat, may no child have to know this kind of hunger again....

Precious child

May you never

Again know the pangs of

Hunger,

May you never know

That empty feeling

In the pit of your stomache

May you never feel of dying

Of hunger.

Precious child

You are beautiful

And we love you

We are reaching out to you.

Obvious Injustices

2009-12-16T16:38:00.002+03:00

Obvious Injustices
by Michael Cleveland Thomas

Obivious Injustices always happens to us. Sometimes we catch them, many times we make no fuss.

An illegal immigrant came to the U.S. for our superior hospital skills. This beautiful little girl was sick and ill. Got the wrong heart and lungs, she wasn't expecting this when her journey begun. Then she got another heart and and lung to replace the incorrect ones. Unfortunatley she died, but how many black families have cried because the heart lung they've been waiting for, they were denied. Obvious Injustices.

For 28 days once a year, Black History month is on everything you hear. The strength of certain heroes in our history are brought out while the importance of our past is forgotten about. We've built cities and universities, we shaped this country and made it all it could be. But our 145 inventors don't get entered into those books of His-Story. Obvious Injustices.

Got athletes running, gunning and soaring high but very few are head coaches and team owners, I wonder why. We are dominating sports and setting the bets, but none of us are signing the checks. Then when something goes wrong, it's our images the media sets out to wreck. Obvious Injustices.

We are such talented people with no true equal, but there are only a few Black Television sequels. In the nineties, there were plenty now there aren't that many. And the ones we do have are placed in the same time slot. And when they fail, the companies can say it was all for not. The king of New York is a dork and Sex in the city, them girls ain't even that pretty. Obvious Injustices.

Berated in this, our homeland. People from other countries can come here and get a helping hand. Unless you're from Haiti. Now if you from another place and come here, seven years of no taxes is what you face. Can get a loan from the government so you can get your own and bring your people here to make America their home. But America turns their back on us and most of the time we make no fuss. Obvious Injustices.

Just Because I am Old

2009-12-16T14:30:00.001+03:00

What we do to our elderly is disgraceful.

JUST BECAUSE I AM OLD
Just because I am old...
Does that mean I can't enjoy life anymore?
Why do I have to go to a nursing home?
You decided for me, behind a closed door.
Are you afraid of catching old age syndrome?

Just because I am old...
And dribble a little when I eat,
And am not as steady on my feet,
And arthritis turns my joints to stone,
And my mind wanders off on its own...

Just because I am old...
Why did they take my driver's license away?
I was a good driver. I still am, in fact.
But in that matter, I did not have a say.
You said my reflexes were slow to react.

Just because I am old...
And forget to pay my bills sometimes,
And don't eat as much, to save a dime,
And can't remember to take my pills,
And don't like your music, it's too shrill...

Just because I am old...
I feel like you just want to get rid of me.
You don't give a damn to what I'd like to do.
You will get old one day, if you are lucky.
What you've done to me, hope someone does to you.

I grieve for Humanity

2009-12-16T14:11:00.003+03:00

Humanity Shunned
by Robert T Kapla

I've seen this happen all too often. People forgotten, neglected, or just shunned.

Humanity Shunned

A man sitting on the corner,
dirty and unshaven.
Clothes rumpled and filthy,
hang in tatters from his scrawny frame.
The cardboard sign in his hand,
explains it all.
Homeless and Hungry.
His shoulders slumped,
face, lined from worry,
looking lost and forgotten.
The people passing on the sidewalk,
mirrored in his eyes.
Eyes void of all hope.
Pedestrians look at him and through him.
Unseeing, uncaring,
yet they make an effort not to look at him.
Or to pass to close.
Never considering the change in their pockets,
or the difference it could make,
in the life of this man.
Change that could mean
his first hot meal in days.
Change that could become,
a glimmer of hope.
A spark that could ignite the fires of hope.
Pocket change, could forever change this mans life.
I know, But for the grace of God, go I
I cross the street,
pulling the crumpled bills, and loose change from my pocket.
I place the money in his hand,
saying, "I wish I could do more."
"I hope it helps."
Was that a spark I saw, as I turned away?

Has mankind lost it's compassion?
If so, I grieve for humanity.

Rescue me from this HELL!!

2009-12-16T09:37:00.001+03:00

Deep inside myself
So I can't feel
Scars on my heart
To deep to heal
I hear the children play
Normal girls and boys
Perfect white houses
Room full of toys

Tear stained sheets
Draped on my bed
Sometimes I think
I'd be better off dead
Why do they hit me
Is it because I am small
Does it give them power
Nothing makes sense at all

There's a special corner
Deep in my heart
That's where I hide
When the beatings start
I hold everything in
I don't dare let them see
The damage they do
When they're hurting me

I cover my bruises
Swallow my pride
Knowing with every blow
I'm dying inside
Scared of the shadows
Knowing I can't tell
Wishing someone would come
Rescue me from this hell

~Linda Hill 2004
Revised Repost

Christmases

2009-12-16T08:59:00.001+03:00

Somewhere There are Christmases
By Ronald W. Hull

I've been to Bangladesh. Believe me, it's worse than this.

This season we must get over our craving for money, quit political bickering, put our backs to fixing our infrastructure, and encourage small, innovative businesses creating real jobs in a brighter, cleaner future for all.

Somewhere there are Christmases,
where the light of love shines bright.
Somewhere there are Christmases,
where the land is bleak with blight.

Where snow falls this time of year,
and sets to cheeks its rosy cheer.
Or turns to cold rain and mud,
making mere existence drear.

Where colored lights fill the nights,
and bring all hearts to joy.
Or where the electricity is cut off,
and children work but have no toy.

Somewhere there are lavish gifts,
bestowed upon the dear.
While unemployment checks,
run out the first of the year.

Somewhere the sounds of family,
reverberate through the house.
or the foreclosure last month,
left it quiet as a mouse.

Somewhere they are singing,
Christmas carols with glee.
But there are children crying,
from sea to shining sea.

We give generously at Christmas,
to share our wealth with the poor.
And ignore their plight the rest of days,
as though generous no more.

For some there are no Christmases,
in far-off away foreign lands.
Yet they work very hard to please us,
with gifts they make with hands.

Somewhere there are Christmases,
if only in our dreams.
Christmas is not for everyone,
or at least, so it seems.

Copyright 2009 © Ronald W. Hull

Nanyamka's Story

2009-12-16T08:42:00.003+03:00

Nanyamka's Story: The Life of an African Child
By Michelle R Kidwell Power In The Pen

Greetings my name is Nanyamka I am nearing my twelfth year, and I live in south Africa, my name means God's gift, but I truly wish my parents had felt this way, I was abandonded as a small child, and taken to an Orphanage, where I have lived from them till now. I have a bed and even toys, and food so I know that compared to some of the street kids in Kenya I am blessed.
I am a Christian, the people that run the orphanage are missionaries from America, and they say that if I work really hard maybe someday I can go to school in America. I want so much to learn and learn, but I am scared of leaving this place I have known my whole life.

Like other girls at the Orphanage I help out with the younger kids, and I enjoy playing games, and dolls with them. I like this place where I learn so many things, and get to learn about Jesus. We are praying all the time that the Lord blesses us and he does. Many in my country believe in Allah, but I believe in the Messiah Jesus Christ.
I must go help with the chores, and see if the younger children need my help. I will write in this book again soon though.

God Bless

Nkosi Sikelel' Nanyamka

A Child's Secret

2009-12-16T08:33:00.001+03:00

Domestic Abuse and how as a family people tend to "hide" problems.

This story is true , but the names are changed to protect the innocent. This is a basic way to find out things you did not know might be going on in your town, or people very close to you.

Heather sat down with her mother to talk, a very bright 11 year old blue eyed child with a heart big as all out doors. She was worried about something and Mother was having a problem getting out of her what was wrong. But when the other children came home from school she ran off to play with them like she was ok. Mom let it go as a mood.

Mickey came in from playing and said, "Mrs. Martin, can I lay down and take a nap". Mom always said yes whenever he asked. But very puzzled if the child was sick. Everyday it was the same routine, he would come in, do his homework, play for a very short time and sleep until his mother picked him up. Today was a bit different..While he was sleeping she noticed her daughter watching him, but she was crying. Mother attempted to ask her what was wrong, but she denied anything and ran off to play.

Something is up she thought, what in the world could be going on? She was determined before the night was over to find out. As it happened it was a Friday night and when Rachel came to pick up the kids Mary asked if her daughter could spend the night. Saying yes and thinking nothing of it until seeing Mickey looking at her daughter and shaking his head no, her daughter was shaking her head yes.

Letting it go, Clarissa Martin thought she would wait until her daughter came home to find out what was up. She found out only too soon. At three am she received a call that her daughter was in tears and needed to come home NOW! Still in her pajamas her daughter left her things and ran home in the dark (although only a few houses away) this scared Clarissa.

Her daughter flew in the house crying very hard, she finally calmed her down enough to ask what was wrong. Heather then poured her heart out. " Mommy, please do not get mad at me. But their daddy was real mad all night. He started drinking when he came home. He got mad at Rachel and threw supper all over the house. It's ok though cause Rachel told me not to worry she would pick it up". Between sobs she continued "Then he told her if she went to sleep he would kill her while she was sleeping, Mickey said he says that to her all the time, and mommy that is why Mickey sleeps when he comes home so he can stay up all night to make sure his daddy doesn't hurt his mommy."...More sobs."Then mommy he hit her, the daddy hit her and pushed her down the stairs, took the car keys and they fought more and more and I got scared and wanted to come home.... " More crying and sobbing. "I am sorry mommy Mickey and his sister wanted this to be a secret, they are not supposed to tell. And Rachel has her eyes a funny color mommy where he hit her the other day. She is not tired at night, she doesn't come in to pick them up because she got bruises and don't want you to see them". Clarissa gently rocked her child to sleep. Remember those days when the same had happened to her.

The next morning she spoke to Rachel, telling her all that her daughter had said, admitting it was all true . Clarissa did one of the hardest things she had ever done, she told Rachel " I love you and your children like family, but you have to get some help. Not only you are suffering, your children are hurting. And if you do not seek help I will force the issue Rachel, as much as I love you someone has to help you see that this is wrong. Do you understand that when he is that drunk he just may do what he says he will? And your son believes this will happen. What would you do, if just by chance he does attempt to hurt you in your sleep and your son intervenes? What are you going to do if it is your son he harms? Please get help, don't make me call anyone.". There was silence for a long time. She could hear Rachel crying on the other side of the phone.

Two hours later and intervention meeting was set up in Rachel's home. Three hours later her husband was admitted to a treatment center.

Make someone feel Beautiful today

2009-07-17T11:18:00.007+03:00

The Odd Little Duck
By Sharon O Hartdegen

This is a story of one little duck who refused to 'follow the herd' and ignore the beauty of life around him. It is also the story of how his outlook affected some of the critters he came into contact with. Be an odd little duck and make someone feel special today!

The Odd Little Duck

Once upon a time in a little hollow in the wood, an old owl sat on a stump of a tree. He was very old and tired, and his feathers had already turned grey. The winter was over, and everything was becoming green again. But the old owl's bones were aching, and nothing looked as good as he remembered it.

Not far from the hollow, along a winding dirt road, was a duckyard. In this duckyard a mama duck and her seven baby ducklings were anxiously awaiting the arrival of duckling number eight. But duckling number eight was in no hurry to hatch. Finally Mama Duck put her head down right next to the egg, which already had a small crack in it, and said, "Are you coming out, Little Duck? We're all waiting."

A small voice replied, "I don't know. It's awfully nice in here. It's warm, and cozy, and --"
Before he could say any more, mama duck started fussing.

"Now, look here, little duck. We've waited and waited, but we can't wait any longer. Little ducks have to hatch, they have to eat, and they have to go to the duck pond."

Wanting to be a good little duck, he obediently popped out. Mama duck had already begun feeding the other ducklings. Little duck looked around the duckyard. His eyes took in the bright green grass, the big blue sky, and the brilliant yellow sun shining overhead, and he said, "Oooh, it's so wonderful out here, much nicer than inside my egg."

At this point Mama Duck was trying to feed him, which was difficult since he was more
interested in seeing everything, and not very interested in eating. "As I just told you , little ducks have to hatch, they have to eat , and they have to go to the duck pond," fussed Mama Duck.

Again, wanting to be a good little duck, he obediently ate. Having fed her ducklings, Mama Duck quickly started out for the duck pond. They marched all in a row with mama duck saying, "One, two, three, --one, two, three,-- no dawdling now."

But they hadn't gone very far when duckling number eight saw something that made him stop. "Oooh, Mama Duck, it's so pretty. What is it, Mama Duck?"

Mama Duck turned her head, without stopping her march, and said, "Little Duck, it's a flower, but we have no time for flowers. We have to go to the duck pond. Now, get in line, One, two, three, -- one, two, three." Little duck took one more long look at the pretty flower, it's bright red petals and yellow center swaying in a field of green. Then he ran back in line as quick as his little legs could carry him.

Just as they turned a bend in the road, something else caught his eye, and he stopped. "Oooh, Mama Duck, look! It's lovely, what is it, Mama Duck? Is it a flower?"

Mama duck and the other ducklings were too far ahead to hear, but a tiny voice answered with a giggle. "No-o, I'm a butterfly --kind of like a flower-- but I can fly." Having said this, the butterfly fluttered off into the air a few feet above Little Duck's head.

"Oooh --you're lovely," was all little duck could say, and seeing the other ducks so far away, and Mama Duck's voice echoing in his ears, "One, two, three,-- one, two, three, --"
Little duck made his own feet fly. He quickly caught up with the other marching ducks.

But just then, the little troop of marching ducks were passing right by the hollow where the old owl sat on his stump in the wood. The others marched right on by without even a sidewards glance. But Little Duck stopped short in his tracks.

"Oooh, my!" , said the Little Duck. "Are you a butterfly?"

The old owl opened one eye, and stared at the little duck. "Humph - - a butterfly? Of all the nonsense? A butterfly? Of course I'm not a butterfly. I'm a bird, an owl to be precise, a very wise old owl."

The little duck could only say, "Oooh!" But just as the owl had closed his eyes again, Little Duck asked, "Uh, excuse me, Mr. Bird, but if you are so wise, could I ask you a question?"

The owl slowly opened one eye and then the other, and said, "I guess you may ask me one question."

Little Duck looked down at his feet, trying to think of the right words. After all, he had only hatched this morning. Finally, he said, "Mr. Bird, Mama Duck says little ducks have to hatch, they have to eat, and they have to go to the duck pond."

"Yes, said the owl, trying to be patient, and just what is the question?"

Little Duck thought for a moment, then said, "Am I a bad little duck, because I want to see the wonderful sky, the pretty flowers, the lovely butterflies? And, he added, hanging his head shyly, ... the beautiful birds?"

The wise old owl looked at the little duck, and shook his head sadly. "No, Little Duck, it doesn't make you a bad little duck. But it does make you 'different'. Your mama is right, little ducks do have to hatch, they have to eat, and they have to go to the duck pond. But some creatures are different. They have to have more; they have to have beauty. This is what you see, Little Duck. You see the beauty around you, and it's a precious gift."

Then seeing Mama Duck almost out of sight, the old owl said, "Humph, now you'd better be off as your mama and the others are almost at the duck pond."

Little duck looked over his shoulder and sure enough, he could barely see his mama and the other ducklings. Turning around quickly, he started off after them on his short little legs. Then, he stopped, turned back to the wise old owl, and said, "Thank you, Mr. Bird."

The old owl who had already slumped down on his stump and was almost asleep, opened one eye again and said, "What ? What's that? Thank me for what?"

The little duck replied, "For being beautiful", and hurried on his way.

The old owl, who now had both eyes open, sat there and thoughtfully watched the little duck until he was out of sight. Then he smiled, sat up tall and straight, smoothed his ruffled old feathers, and said to himself, "Thank you, Little Duck, for making mefeel beautiful again."

*** THE END ***

Say NO to child abuse!!

2009-07-17T08:32:00.007+03:00

My bad life

This story is a sad story about child abuse. Its about a little girl named Aajay-Lyfe and her brother Aaron-Lyrin who are abused by their father and are trying to escape from this horrible life.

Its not fair that everyone in school does not have bruises but me. Daddy tells me to say that i fall. He tells me to lie or dont say anything. I want to tell the truth but im scared. Daddy said if i tell anyone he will kill me. I know he would because he gave me bruises on my arm and legs. My brother has bruises too. Hes only four. He has bruises on his face arms legs and he has bite marks.
My name is Aajay-Lyfe and my brothers name is Aaron-Lyrin and we live a bad life. We barley see our mother. She is gone most of the time. When i do see her she is always acting crazy. She also puts needles into her arm. She has bags of stuff that looks like shuger.
Daddy or mommy does not feed us all the time. we have to eat small amounts and sometimes i have to dig in the dumpster for my brother and i to eat. I have to sneak and do it because if not then i would get beat really bad.
Aaron-lyrin and i dont have a bed or covers. Well we do have covers but it is a trash bag. We have to sleep on a hard, cold, and dusty floor. I like going to sleep because i get to eat good meals and i get to sleep on something comforitable...

If you are touched by this story, please add a comment, suggestion or donate to a worthy cause of your choice that may contribute to helping people like Aajay and Aaron. Better still,please join donate to one of my causes!! I will be glad for that.

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Starvation is Real

2009-07-16T17:04:00.000+03:00

We watched images

of starving children

in Northern Africa

With contempt you said,

"Why don't they stop breeding?"

In mute shock

I swallowed back my tears

as we watched

a desperate mother

place a dry breast

into her infant's mouth.

Today I did my share

2009-07-16T13:49:00.005+03:00

Building the Nation

By Henry Barlow (Uganda)

Today I did my share

In building the nation.

I drove a Permanent Secretary

To an important, urgent function

In fact, to a luncheon at the Vic.

The menu reflected its importance

Cold bell beer with small talk,

Then fried chicken with niceties

Wine to fill the hollowness of the laughs

Ice-cream to cover the stereotype jokes

Coffee to keep the PS awake on the return journey.

I drove the Permanent Secretary back.

He yawned many times in back of the car

Then to keep awake, he suddenly asked,

Did you have any lunch friend?

I replied looking straight ahead

And secretly smiling at his belated concern

That I had not, but was slimming!

Upon which he said with a seriousness

That amused more than annoyed me,

Mwananchi, I too had none!

I attended to matters of state.

Highly delicate diplomatic duties you know,

And friend, it goes against my grain,

Causes me stomach ulcers and wind.

Ah, he continued, yawning again,

The pains we suffer in building the nation!

So the PS had ulcers too!

My ulcers I think are equally painful

Only they are caused by hunger,

Not sumptuous lunches!

So two nation builders

Arrived home this evening

With terrible stomach pains

The result of building the nation -

- Different ways.

Have you helped someone today?

2009-07-15T16:57:00.005+03:00

This morning I saw two young homeless kids picking left over food from a dustbin in the back-streets of Kericho town (in Kenya).

I felt pity for them and wondered how they usually survive. I remembered that God is with these kids because if they were ordinary people like you and me they would die of food contamination/poisoning.

I spared some cash I had put aside for my lunch today. I skipped lunch to help feed them and though I now feel the pangs of hunger as I get out of the office, I am proud of myself!

I hope to accomplish more towards this end...

What have you done for a fellow human being who needed your help today?

Today, I did my part though in a small way..... Would you care to join me and contribute to the welbeing of society?... Welcome!!

Help someone near you by giving them something small... they will appreciate and God will pour blessings on you.

Be it a piece of cloth, food, shelter or just word of mouth, You will feel better after giving out the item. Then you'll realise you never really needed it so much more than the person you gave it to.

God bless you!!

I care for Humanity, Do you?

2009-07-13T08:39:00.001+03:00

Hey guys, take a minute to read through this short message. Every day you wake up in the morning, lazily get into the bathroom for a warm and refreshing shower, while breakfast is waiting for you at the table, you get out of the shower and put on your best suit (that cost about $1200), your mind is still on the previous day's adventure in one of the world's famous beaches/mountain/park/resort, or wherever u had gone to unwind. You recall having spent some good money on it, but then you shrug and say,

"it was worth it, after all I earned the money!"

You switch on your 100+ inch Giant TV Screen and think about how life has been very good to you lately. As you ponder over all this, there is this 'stupid' reporter giving an account on how much suffering your fellow human beings in Africa, Middle East, Antarctica or wherever are undergoing. To prove his point, there are these pictures of emaciated children roaming the streets looking for left-overs to eat, then elsewhere, there are these people in Southern Sudan or Zimbabwe or Kenya giving an account on how long they have stayed without food. Some survive from eating wild berries and tree barks. (Then you remember your breakfast and rush to get it. You realise there's all this food left from the previous night and needs to be thrown away.)

As you munch through your Burger etc ... you tell yourself that there is no one who can claim to be starving when there is plenty of food everywhere.

"These guys are just lazy, that's why they starve. If they work hard like me, I'm sure they will be better off." You say to yourself.

You switch the channel to avoid any more of these unpleasant pictures and proceed with your meal. Your appetite is so good you don't want anything to ruin it. You also remember you need to add more food for your pet (Dog, Cat or whatever you keep as company.

"Last month I spent about $5000 on my pet's food. I need to buy him less junk food this month especially so he can lose some weight" You think to yourself, and make a note in your diary/to-do-list...

Before you do anything else, take a minute to reflect on how much you could help your brothers and sisters who are going through such hard times..... You can also make an impact by doing something small.... You don't need to starve or stop feeding your dog...

Hey what are you saying... No way I can't - You may be thinking as you read through this. But please take a minute and reflect on this....

- Hundreds of people (all over the world) including children are starving to death every passing day

- These same people have no roof to their heads and get exposed to harsh weather conditions

- They have no clothes to wear yet you have a full wardrobe of clothes you do not need any more. After all you need to keep up with fashion trends

- Everybody out there with a means is waiting for someone "out there" to lend a helping hand. After all these people "are very far away from where I live"

I am not against having good life or spending money on other pleasurable activities.....

If you care, please join me ...

Would you change your attitude and pay more attention to other people's suffering? Do you put aside even a single dime for a worthy cause in your budget?......If you don't have much to spare in terms of money do you give any other form of support?

"That's none of my business!!" You may say. But the point is:

IT ALL OF YOUR BUSINESS!!

Lets all be members of one family: A family of human beings, with humanity & a feeling of empathy to those who suffer.

I don't have much to give myself but I have a big heart and I am giving it to everybody to share.

Join me in making life better for everybody in this planet.

Thanks for reading through this...

Regards

Lincoln Wesley

If you are touched, please add a comment, suggestion or donate to a worthy cause of your choice. Better still, donate to one of my causes!! I will be glad for that.

Click on this link:

http://apps.facebook.com/causes/314930/71094192?m=6d54c0aa