This Is Beautiful! Try Not To Cry.

She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room.

She said: "How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right?
When can I see him?"

The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it."

Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer?
Doesn't God care any more?
Where were you, God, when my son needed you?"

The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son?

One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university."

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to her son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.

Would you like a lock of his hair?" the nurse asked.
Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.

The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else.

"I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom."

She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could."

Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there.

She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house.

She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.

She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them.

She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep. It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter.

The letter said: "Dear Mom, I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say "I Love You" .

I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again.

Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me.
He can have my room and old stuff to play with.

But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do.

You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything.

The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important.

That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter.

I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him 'Where was He when I needed him?'

"God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross.

He was right there, as He always is with all His children. Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now.

He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either.

That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?

Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.

(Send this to 10 people in 2 minutes and you will feel the Holy Spirit brightening your life in just an hour.)

“~ God Bless You ~”

"Be strong, honey. I love you, too."

A man escapes from a prison where he has been kept for 15 years. He breaks into a house to look for money and guns and finds a young couple in bed. He orders the guy out of bed and ties him to a chair. While tying the girl to the bed he gets on top of her, kisses her on the neck, then gets up and goes into the bathroom.

While he's in there, the husband tells his wife: "Listen, this guy is an escaped prisoner, look at his clothes! He probably spent lots of time in jail, and hasn't seen a woman in years. I saw how he kissed your neck. If he wants sex, don't resist, don't complain, do what he tells you, just give him satisfaction, no matter how much he ravages you. This guy is probably dangerous. If he gets angry, he'll kill us. Be strong, honey. I love you".

To which the wife responds, "He wasn't kissing my neck. He was whispering in my ear. He told me he was gay, thought you were cute, and asked if we kept anyVaseline in the bathroom. I told him where to find it.. "Be strong, honey. I love you, too." -Anonymous

True Love

It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when a gentleman in his 80's, arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am.

I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound.

On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and re-dress his wound.

While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife.

I inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's disease. As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now.

I was surprised, and asked him, "And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?"

He smiled as he patted my hand and said, "She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is."

I had to hold back tears as he left, I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, "That is the kind of love I want in my life."

True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance ofall that is, has been, will be, and will not be. -Anonymous