Stuck In An Abusive Relationship

A lady goes to work at a large department store and she’s friends with somebody in a another department who she doesn’t know very well, but is drawn to her. You know how you can just meet somebody and like them immediately. But over a short period of time this one lady begins to notice that the other lady is getting more and more solemn and depressed.

And finally, even though they have never really spoken, she walks over and says “Hi. I’m Ruth and we smile at each other from time to time. I hope I’m not prying into your life, but I could tell that something is wrong. Would you mind sharing it with me? Maybe it would be better if we talked about it.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you what the deal is. I’m stuck in an abusive relationship.”

“Oh,” Ruth says, “listen to me. Don’t you put up with it for one second. Don’t you stay in any abusive relationship. No matter what, don’t you stick with it.”

“No, I don’t think you understand,” says the other lady. “You see, I live all by myself. And there’s nobody else in my life but me.”

This story was written by the best-selling author, Guy Finley.

That Special You

English: A special education teacher assists o...

One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name.

Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed in the papers.

That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and listed what everyone else had said about that individual.

On Monday she gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. “Really?” she heard whispered. “I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!” and, “I didn’t know others liked me so much,” were most of the comments.

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn’t matter.

The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, one of the students was killed in Vietnam and his teacher attended the funeral of that special student.

She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. He looked so handsome, so mature.

The church was packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin.

The teacher was the last one to bless the coffin. As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to her.

“Were you Mark’s math teacher?” he asked. She nodded: “yes.” Then he said: “Mark talked about you a lot.”

After the funeral, most of Mark’s former classmates went together to a luncheon. Mark’s mother and father were there, obviously waiting to speak with his teacher.

“We want to show you something,” his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. “They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.”

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times.

The teacher knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of Mark’s classmates had said about him.

“Thank you so much for doing that,” Mark’s mother said. “As you can see, Mark treasured it.”

All of Mark’s former class mates started to gather around.

Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, “I still have my list. It’s in the top drawer of my desk at home.”

Chuck’s wife said, “Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album.”

“I have mine too,” Marilyn said. “It’s in my diary.”

Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. “I carry this with me at all times, ” Vicki said and without batting an eyelash, she continued: “I think we all saved our lists.”

That’s when the teacher finally sat down and cried.

She cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

Who Do You Love

John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn’t, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind.
In front of the book, he discovered the previous owner’s name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II

During the next year and one-month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A Romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn’t matter what she looked like.

When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting – 7:00 pm at Grand Central Station in New York.

“You’ll recognize me, ” she wrote, “by the red rose I’ll be wearing on my lapel.” So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he’d never seen.

I’ll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young women was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. “Going my way, sailor?” she murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A women well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the women whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own.

And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful.

I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the women, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. “I’m Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?”

The women’s face broadened into a tolerant smile. “I don’t know what this is about, son,” she answered, “but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!”

It’s not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell’s wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in it’s response to the unattractive. “Tell me whom you love,” Houssaye wrote, “And I will tell you who you are.”

A Silent Love

From the very beginning, the girl’s family objected strongly on her dating this guy. Saying that it has got to do with family background & that the girl will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be with him.

Due to family’s pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Though the girl love the guy deeply, but she always ask him: “How deep is your love for me?”

As the guy is not good with his words, this often causes the girl to be very upset. With that & the family’s pressure, the girl often vents her anger on him. As for him, he only endures it in silence.

After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated & decided to further his studies in overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the girl: “I’m not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I’ll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?

The girl agreed, & with the guy’s determination, the family finally gave in & agreed to let them get married. So before he leaves, they got engaged.

The girl went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails & phone calls. Though it’s hard, but both never thought of giving up.

One day, while the girl was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realized that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. She has lost her voice……

The doctor says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her voice. Listening to her parents’ comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down.

During the stay in hospital, besides silence cry,…..it’s still just silence cry that companied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart every time it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know. & not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.

With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions & millions of reply, and countless of phone calls,.. all the girl could do, besides crying, is still crying….

The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything & be happy.

With a new environment, the girl learnt sign language & started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her friend came & told her that he’s back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn’t anymore news of him.

A year has passed & her friend came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy’s wedding. The girl was shattered. When she opened the letter, she saw her name in it instead.

When she was about to ask her friend what’s going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her. He used sign language telling her “I’ve spent a year’s time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I’ve not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You. With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger. The girl finally smiled.

A mother’s love – real history

In olden times there ruled a great and powerful king, whose name was Solomon. All the land of Israel was under his sway, and there was no one so rich or so honoured on the face of the earth.

Upon succeeding to the throne, Solomon had been filled with awe at the mightiness of the task before him, and in the humility of his heart, prayed for the wisdom to govern justly.
“For,” he said, “I am but a little child, and how should I discern between right and wrong?
His wish was granted and, above and beyond his wealth and honour, Solomon was famed for his wisdom.

One day two women came before the King. They carried with them a little baby, which was set down on the floor, at the foot of Solomon’s throne.
“O my lord,” said one of the women, “five days ago I gave birth to a child. This woman and I live in the same house, and three days later she also gave birth, but that same night her child died, and at midnight she arose and, while I was sleeping, took my son away from me, and laid her dead child in its place. When I awoke in the morning I thought at first that my son was dead, until I realised that it was not my child.”
“No,” interrupted the second woman, “she lies, my lord, she lies! The living child is mine and the dead is hers!”
“No,” cried the first woman, wildly. “No, the dead child is yours, and the living child is mine.”
King Solomon raised his hand for silence.
“One of you says ‘my child lives and yours is dead ’, and the other says ‘your child is dead and my child lives’, there is a simple way to resolve the matter. Bring me a sword.”
A sword was brought, and the assembly waited to see how the King would proceed.
“Very well,” he said, “cut the child in two, and give half to one mother, and half to the other.”
The first woman turned pale.
“O my lord,” she said in a faltering voice. “Pray, give her the child. I beg you, do not kill it.”
But the other woman’s face remained hard.
“Let it be neither mine nor yours,” she said, “divide it as the King has ordained.”
Then Solomon arose, and pointed to the first woman.
“The child belongs to her, ” he said. “Give her the child, and do not kill it. She is its mother.”
Word of this judgement spread throughout Israel, and people marvelled at the wisdom of the King.