I am so happy and grateful that you are in my life.
I am thankful for your love, understanding and care.
I love the little things you do, even though I sometimes overlook them while chasing after other things. The little nice things such as my lunches, the cute Q-tips by my sink and the occasional warm glances all add a glow inside my heart.
A guy named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night. His 4-year-old daughter, Barbara, sat on his lap quietly sobbing. Bobs wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer. Little Barbara couldn't understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dads eyes and asked, "Why isn't Mommy just like everybody else's Mommy?" Bob's jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears. Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger. It had been the story of Bob's life. Life always had to be different for Bob.
Chris's parents were proud of him when he graduated from college. But it's been six months and he hasn't gotten a job yet. In fact, he hasn't looked seriously. He has no idea what he wants to do and he's thinking of grad school.
He's living at home with his parents and things are getting tense, especially with his father, who accuses Chris of being lazy and afraid to enter the real world.
I have the great pleasure of working with young people. They are so full of promise and potential as they stand at the threshold of their adult lives.
Sometimes, though, I'll see a young person struggle with the belief that before they set out for their dream they must first know the precise plan to follow and its exact outcome.