food for thought , light to the soul, inspirational quotes or thoughts poem s
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[HR][/HR]
[HR][/HR][h=1]96-year-old bank note[/h]
The following is an actual letter that was sent to a bank by a 96 year-old
woman. The bank manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in
the New York Times.
----------------------------
To whom it may concern,
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored
to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three nanoseconds must
have elapsed between his depositing the check and the arrival in my
account of the funds needed to honor it. I refer, of course, to the
automatic monthly transfer of funds from my modest savings account, an
arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only thirty-one years.
You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and
also for debiting my account $30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience
caused to your bank.
My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused
me to rethink my errant financial ways. I noticed that whereas I
personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, when I try to
contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging,
pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has recently become. From
now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person.
My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer be
automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally
and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate.
Be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person
to open such an envelope.
Please find attached an Application Contact Status form which I require
your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but
in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about
me, there is no alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her
medical history must be countersigned by a Notary Public, and the
mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets
and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof. In due course,
I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in
dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but,
again, I have modeled it on the number of button presses required of me
to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say,
imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Please allow me to level the playing field even further. When you call
me, you will now have a menu of options on my new voice mail system to
choose from.
Please press the buttons as follows:
To make an appointment to see me.
To query a missing payment.
To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer is
required. Password will be communicated to you at a later date to the
Authorized Contact.
To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.
To make a general complaint or inquiry. The contact will then be put on
hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service. While this
may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for
the duration of the call. Regrettably, but again following your example,
I must also levy an establishment fee of $50 to cover the setting up of
this new arrangement. Please credit my account after each occasion.
May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous, New Year.
Your Humble Client...
(Remember: This was written by a 96 year old woman)
[HR][/HR][h=1]96-year-old bank note[/h]
The following is an actual letter that was sent to a bank by a 96 year-old
woman. The bank manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in
the New York Times.
----------------------------
To whom it may concern,
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored
to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three nanoseconds must
have elapsed between his depositing the check and the arrival in my
account of the funds needed to honor it. I refer, of course, to the
automatic monthly transfer of funds from my modest savings account, an
arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only thirty-one years.
You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and
also for debiting my account $30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience
caused to your bank.
My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused
me to rethink my errant financial ways. I noticed that whereas I
personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, when I try to
contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging,
pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has recently become. From
now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person.
My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer be
automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally
and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate.
Be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person
to open such an envelope.
Please find attached an Application Contact Status form which I require
your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but
in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about
me, there is no alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her
medical history must be countersigned by a Notary Public, and the
mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets
and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof. In due course,
I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in
dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but,
again, I have modeled it on the number of button presses required of me
to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say,
imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Please allow me to level the playing field even further. When you call
me, you will now have a menu of options on my new voice mail system to
choose from.
Please press the buttons as follows:
To make an appointment to see me.
To query a missing payment.
To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer is
required. Password will be communicated to you at a later date to the
Authorized Contact.
To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.
To make a general complaint or inquiry. The contact will then be put on
hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service. While this
may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for
the duration of the call. Regrettably, but again following your example,
I must also levy an establishment fee of $50 to cover the setting up of
this new arrangement. Please credit my account after each occasion.
May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous, New Year.
Your Humble Client...
(Remember: This was written by a 96 year old woman)
A best friend is like a four leaf clover, hard to find, lucky to have.Anonymous-
My goal this weekend is to move... just enough so people don't think I'm dead.Anonymous-
When you wake up at 6 in the morning, you close your eyes for 5 minutes and it's already 6:45. When you're at work and it's 2:30, you close your eyes for 5 minutes and it's 2:31.Anonymous-
My goal this weekend is to move... just enough so people don't think I'm dead.Anonymous-
When you wake up at 6 in the morning, you close your eyes for 5 minutes and it's already 6:45. When you're at work and it's 2:30, you close your eyes for 5 minutes and it's 2:31.Anonymous-
[HR][/HR]
[HR][/HR][h=1]can't argue with kids[/h]
The Sunday School lesson for the first graders was on the plan of
salvation. The teacher asked, "If I sold my house and my car, had
a big garage sale, and gave all my money to the church, would I
get into heaven?"
"No!" all the children answered.
"If I cleaned the church every day, mowed the yard, and kept
everything neat and tidy, would I get into heaven?"
Again, the answer was, "No!"
"Well," she continued, "then how can I get to heaven?"
One boy confidently answered, "You've gotta be dead!"
[HR][/HR][h=1]can't argue with kids[/h]
The Sunday School lesson for the first graders was on the plan of
salvation. The teacher asked, "If I sold my house and my car, had
a big garage sale, and gave all my money to the church, would I
get into heaven?"
"No!" all the children answered.
"If I cleaned the church every day, mowed the yard, and kept
everything neat and tidy, would I get into heaven?"
Again, the answer was, "No!"
"Well," she continued, "then how can I get to heaven?"
One boy confidently answered, "You've gotta be dead!"
A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales. The
teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow
a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat
was very small.
The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.
Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow
a human; it was physically impossible.
The little girl said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".
The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?" The little girl
replied, "Then you ask him."
teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow
a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat
was very small.
The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.
Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow
a human; it was physically impossible.
The little girl said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".
The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?" The little girl
replied, "Then you ask him."
A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children
while they drew. She would occasionally walk around to see each
child's work.
As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she
asked what the drawing was? The girl replied, "I'm drawing God."
The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks
like." Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing,
the girl replied, "They will in a minute."
while they drew. She would occasionally walk around to see each
child's work.
As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she
asked what the drawing was? The girl replied, "I'm drawing God."
The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks
like." Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing,
the girl replied, "They will in a minute."
A little boy was attending his first wedding. After the service,
his cousin asked him, "How many women can a man marry?" "Sixteen,"
the boy responded. His cousin was amazed that he had an answer so
quickly. "How do you know that?" "Easy," the little boy said.
"All you have to do is add it up, like the Bishop said:
4 better, 4 worse, 4 richer, 4 poorer."
A little girl was sitting on her grandfather's lap as he read her
a bedtime story. From time to time, she would take her eyes off
the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek. She was
alternately stroking her own cheek, then his again. Finally she
spoke up, "Grandpa, did God make you?" "Yes, sweetheart," he
answered, "God made me a long time ago." "Oh," she paused...
"Grandpa, did God make me too?" "Yes, indeed, honey," he said,
"God made you just a little while ago." Feeling their respective
faces again, she observed, "God's getting better at it, isn't he?"
his cousin asked him, "How many women can a man marry?" "Sixteen,"
the boy responded. His cousin was amazed that he had an answer so
quickly. "How do you know that?" "Easy," the little boy said.
"All you have to do is add it up, like the Bishop said:
4 better, 4 worse, 4 richer, 4 poorer."
A little girl was sitting on her grandfather's lap as he read her
a bedtime story. From time to time, she would take her eyes off
the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek. She was
alternately stroking her own cheek, then his again. Finally she
spoke up, "Grandpa, did God make you?" "Yes, sweetheart," he
answered, "God made me a long time ago." "Oh," she paused...
"Grandpa, did God make me too?" "Yes, indeed, honey," he said,
"God made you just a little while ago." Feeling their respective
faces again, she observed, "God's getting better at it, isn't he?"
It seems there was this minister who just had all of his remaining teeth pulled and new dentures were being made.
The first Sunday, he only preached 10 minutes.
The second Sunday, he preached only 20 minutes.
But, on the third Sunday, he preached 1 hour 25 minutes.
When asked about this by some of the congregation, he responded this way.
The first Sunday, my gums were so sore it hurt to talk.
The second Sunday, my dentures were hurting a lot.
The third Sunday, I accidentally grabbed my wife's dentures... and I couldn't stop talking!
The first Sunday, he only preached 10 minutes.
The second Sunday, he preached only 20 minutes.
But, on the third Sunday, he preached 1 hour 25 minutes.
When asked about this by some of the congregation, he responded this way.
The first Sunday, my gums were so sore it hurt to talk.
The second Sunday, my dentures were hurting a lot.
The third Sunday, I accidentally grabbed my wife's dentures... and I couldn't stop talking!
[HR][/HR]
[HR][/HR][h=1]unfolding the rosebud[/h]
-- By Helen Steiner Rice
It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
God opens this flower so sweetly,
In my hands it will fade and die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's design,
Then how can I think I have wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?
So I'll trust in Him for His leading
Each moment of every day.
I will look to him for His guidance
Each step of the pilgrim way.
The pathway that lies before me,
Only my Heavenly Father knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.
[HR][/HR][h=1]unfolding the rosebud[/h]
-- By Helen Steiner Rice
It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
God opens this flower so sweetly,
In my hands it will fade and die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's design,
Then how can I think I have wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?
So I'll trust in Him for His leading
Each moment of every day.
I will look to him for His guidance
Each step of the pilgrim way.
The pathway that lies before me,
Only my Heavenly Father knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.