By bob with help
Let others cheer the winning man,
There’s one I hold worth while;
”Tis he who does the best he can
Then loses with a smile.
Beaten he is, but not to stay
Down with the rank and file;
That man will win some other day,
Who loses with a smile.
For be it in a game or life’s struggle to do right
The heart, mind, and soul seeks to show Kindness
To all who suffer in the darkness in need of light
Those who lose with a smile will be the ones who make life worth while
For they always do the best they can.
Be kind to all, let your spirit lift
Those whose lives may be adrift;
Be pleasant and always wear a smile,
Let that be your “kindness style.”
Be kind to all, don’t be sad and blue,
If you smile your sun can shine through;
Let his heavenly love divine
Around your happy heart entwine.
Be kind to all for life is frail
Sometimes on stormy seas you ‘ll sail,
But God is there, you won’t be alone —
Because of the “kindness .seeds” you’ve sown.
Nora M. Bozeman
Little Acts of Kindness
by: Nora M. Bozeman
Little acts of kindness may
Chase someone’s blues away.
A smile, a look, a fond “hello”
Is a gift that you can bestow.
When a soul is in distress
And they send an S.O.S.,
A smile can go a long, long way
When a life has gone astray.
Don’t be afraid to say, “ hello”
Or help someone who’s feeling low,
For smiles will lift one’s spirit up
And happiness will fill his cup.
A happiness awakening,
Little acts of kindness bring
So with a smile and friendly nod,
Give the gift that comes from God.
The Most Beautiful Flower
The park bench was deserted
as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches
of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life
with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent
on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough
to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath
approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me
with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement,
"Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower,
and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn -
too little rain, too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower
and go off to play,
I faked a small smile
and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating
he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose
and declared with surprise,
"It sure smells pretty
and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it;
here - it's for you."
The weed before me
was dying or dead,
Not vibrant of colors,
orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it,
or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied,
"Just what I need."
But instead of him placing
the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air
without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed
for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see;
he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver,
tears shone like the sun
As I thanked him for picking
the very best one.
"You're welcome," he smiled,
and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact
he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered
how he managed to see
A self-pitying old man like me
beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of
my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart,
....blessed with true sight
Through the eyes of a blind child,
at last I could see
The problem was not with the world;
the problem was me.
And for all of those times
I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
and appreciate every second that's mine.
Then I held that wilted flower
up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance
of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy,
another weed in his hand
About to change the life
of another unsuspecting old man.