Tag Archive | dreams

The Tiny Frogs

frogThere was once a bunch of tiny frogs, who arranged a running competition. The goal was to reach the top of a very high tower. A big crowd gathered around the tower to see the race and cheer on the contestants.

The race began…

No one in the crowd really believed that the tiny frogs would reach the top of the tower. They shouted, “Oh, way too difficult!!! They will NEVER make it to the top” and “Not a chance. The tower is too high”.

The tiny frogs began collapsing, one by one except for those who, in a fresh tempo, were climbing higher and higher….

The crowd continued to yell, “It’s too difficult! No one will make it!”

More tiny frogs got tired and gave up… But one continued higher and higher. This one wouldn’t give up! And he reached the top.

Everyone wanted to know how this one frog managed such a great feat.

The secret is? This little frog was deaf!!

The wisdom of this story is:

In our lives we often meet many people who underestimating our capability. Sometimes we need to deafen or close our ears from the utterance or opinions of others who can make us pessimists. Ignore the pessimism of others. It can take your dreams from you. Stay positive. God has given us the ability to deal with any difficulties.

Photo credit : inspireurfriend.blogspot.com

The Old Professor

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that that lit up her entire being.


She said, “Hi, handsome. My name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?” I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze.
“Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?” I asked.
She jokingly replied, “I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel.”
“No seriously,” I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
“I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one!” she told me.
After class we walked to the student union building and share a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this “time machine” as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.


Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, “I’m sorry I’m so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I’ll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.”


As we laughed she cleared her throat and began: “We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. “You have to laugh and find humor every day. You’ve got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dean and don’t even know it!”
“There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn’t take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change.”
“Have no regrets. The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets.”


She concluded her speech by courageously singing The Rose. She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. At the years end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago.
One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.
Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s never too late to be all you can possibly be.

Remember, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY, GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL.

 Messages in this story: –

You are never to old to learn,
– always pursue your dreams, you are never to old to set your goals and accomplish your dreams,
– laugh and find humor in everyday,
– find opportunities in change,especially in today’s world where change is moving at a fast pace, don’t let change overwhelm you, let change help you find opportunities you may have never seen!
– have no regrets – her story is so true, so many people use words such as “if only”, “I wish”, “I can’t”, etc.

http://words4mind.blogspot.com

Never Give Up

Maricel-apatan4

This is a true story of a young woman who went through the most gruesome fire. When you read her story, you’ll realize that your trials are absolutely nothing compared to what this young girl went through.

It was September 25, 2000. Maricel Apatan was an 11-year old girl in Zamboanga. On that day, this little girl went with her uncle to draw water.

Along the way, four men met them. They were carrying long knives. They told her uncle to face down on the ground, and they hacked him on the neck and killed him.

Maricel was in total shock especially that the men were their neighbors. She tried to escape, but the men ran after her.

She cried, “Kuya, ‘wag po, ‘wag n’yo akong tagain! Maawa po kayo sa akin!” (“Don’t kill me! Have mercy on me!”)

But they weren’t listening. With a long knife, a man slashed her on the neck too.

Maricel fell to the ground and lost consciousness.

When she woke up, she saw a lot of blood. She also saw the feet of the men around her, but she pretended to be dead.

When they walked away, Maricel ran back home. But along the way, she saw that both her hands were falling off. Because the men hacked them too. She cried but she kept running.

Sometimes, she would faint and fall to the ground. But she’d regain consciousness and run again.

When she was near her home, Maricel called her mother.

Upon seeing her daughter, her mother screamed in terror. She wrapped her bloodied child in a blanket and carried her to the hospital.

Here was the problem: From her house to the highway, it was a 12-kilometer walk. It took them 4 hours just to reach the highway.

When they arrived in the hospital, the doctors thought Maricel was going to die. But for 5 hours, they operated on her. It took 25 stitches to stitch together the long knife wound in her neck and back.

Maricel barely survived. And she lost both of her hands.

Ironically, the next day was Maricel’s birthday. She was 12 years old.

But tragedy didn’t end there. When they went home, they saw their home was gone. It was ransacked and burned down by the goons.

Being very poor, Maricel’s family also didn’t have P50,000 for their hospital bills.

But God sent many angels along the way to help them.

Archbishop Antonio Ledesma, a distant relative, paid for hospital bills and helped them bring the criminals to court. They were sentenced to prison.

Today, she’s staying with the nuns at Regina Rosarii with Sr. Eppie Brasil, O.P.

But this is the incredible miracle. Instead of staying down, Maricel kept running.

Instead of cursing God why she had no hands, she now uses her wrists in incredible ways that will boggle your mind.

Maricel was cited as the most industrious, best in computer, and most courteous in the School for Crippled Children.

In 2008, she graduated from a course in Hotel and Restaurant Management. She even received a Gold medal for Arts and Crafts.

In 2011, she finished her education to be a chef. Yes, a Chef without hands.

Nothing can stop this young lady from reaching her dreams

http://academictips.org

A true story of Rachel Handler

rachel-handler-2

 

My life changed forever on March 3, 2012. Some may consider me disabled now, but I don’t think the prosthetic limb I wear is a sign of loss. It is a symbol of empowerment and a reminder to overcome fear and embrace life.

Here’s my story –
I was driving from New York City to an audition in South Jersey. I never made it to that audition. I was in a slight fender bender – my first ever car accident. I was shaken up but the other driver and I were fine and had little damage to our cars. We parked on the shoulder of the causeway and as we leaned against the guardrail, waiting for the police to arrive, the unthinkable happened. I saw a car speed around the curve behind us. The driver quickly lost control and hit the guardrail across from us. In the matter a second these thoughts raced through my mind – “Will that car hit us? No way. Yes it will! Jump over the guardrail!” Without even the chance to scream, it was too late; we were both hit and I was flung over the guardrail and into some muddy grass.

I fell paralyzed onto my stomach. All I could do was scream at the top of my lungs, “Help, HELP! HELP!!!” I quickly realized my iPhone was still in my hand, unscathed (unbelievable!). As I turned my head my second realization was not so promising – I couldn’t see my left boot. The shoe was gone, which led me to believe that so was the flesh inside it. Panic sunk it, but luckily good Samaritans came to my aid. A father and his 10 year old daughter held my hand and called my dad. Not ten minutes earlier I had called him to say I was in an accident but everything was fine. This call was much more somber. As I choked back tears I told my parents, who were 2 hours away from me, that I had lost my leg. They immediately started driving towards me.

Once the paramedics got to the accident they kept my parents updated as to which hospital would take me. Those minutes spent waiting for the ambulance were the scariest moments of my life. I wondered if I had other injuries, if the blood by my head indicated a head injury, and why was I still conscious?! I cried for my loss; I cried for my pain; I blamed myself for the accident; and I cried for my dreams of singing and dancing on Broadway being dashed (I didn’t know then what I know now about the amazing world of prosthetic legs). I also cried for the kindness of strangers. When a person loses a limb due to illness they are in the hospital surrounded by their loved ones. But in my case my mom wasn’t there to hold my hands and tell me everything would be ok. I had a stranger’s hand to hold. Lucky for me, a wonderful woman pulled over and rushed to my side. She prayed with me and helped me keep the faith while we waited for medical help to arrive.

I was unconscious when we arrived at the hospital. I only remember waking up after surgery and feeling very relaxed. I knew I was finally safe. Safely on pain medications in a hospital filled with people who could help me. I had my parents with me and my close friends by my side. But that night was the calm before the storm.

The rest of my stay in the hospital was filled with surgeries, pain, anxiety, and fear. Also love and support. But mostly fear. For over two weeks the doctors weren’t sure if they could save my knee. Most of the skin below my knee wasn’t salvageable and they didn’t know if the muscle underneath would be viable. I never prayed so much in my life.

I had a 50/50 chance of keeping/losing my knee. Below knee amputees can navigate steps and other terrain much more easily than above knee amputees. Luckily the odds swung in my favor. Unluckily, I had to spend two more weeks without skin covering the muscle below my knee. Every time the residents changed the dressing on my wound it felt like they were peeling off my skin while simultaneously burning my leg. Yet somehow my parents managed to help me find a sense of humor to cope with the situation.

We laughed when one of the residents thought I was a medical student. We found a sense of community with my roommates, who consisted of prisoners and stabbing victims (I changed rooms 5x during my stay in the Newark hospital). I cracked up when my order of shrimp scampi arrived as prawns and rice. And my parents smiled when they walked into post-op and found me holding hands with my surgeon and resting.

My month long stay in the hospital consisted of multiple blood transfusions, major surgeries, and the side effects that come along with being bedridden and heavily medicated. Little did I know, however, that the hardest part of my recovery was yet to come.

After I was released from the hospital my parents took me to my childhood home. As I crutched into my home I realized that my life had been changed forever. I saw my home with a new pair of eyes; eyes that had been opened by God’s mercy. I cried when I realized that my home felt different because I was different. I knew there was no looking back, only forward. I lived on crutches for the next few months while the doctors waited for my skin to heal. The new skin from my skin graft was too raw for me to wear a prosthetic leg.

I didn’t want to be weak but at times it was hard to be brave. I would check my leg and there were days when the skin would just peel off of it, like in a horror movie. My patience was being tested. It felt like any glimmer of hope turned into a step in the wrong direction. Some days hope was just another four letter word and all I could rely on was faith.

One particular night in June hope was presented to me as not only a feeling, but a choice. I went to a beautiful wedding and had an amazing time, but for a moment I wasn’t sure if I could let myself enjoy the night. While congratulating the groom during cocktail hour, we talked about the couple’s first dance. He mentioned the name of the song and it sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it…until I heard that first verse.

Memories of the accident flooded my mind and tears fell from my eyes. I had danced to that song in my favorite contemporary dance class, two nights before I was hit by the car. It was the last time I would dance as an able-bodied person. I hadn’t even thought of that until the moment I watched the bride and groom dancing to the music.

I knew I had to choose – let my fear of never dancing again swallow me whole, or turn that page in my life and accept this new chapter. A friend held my hand as the tears of grief subsided and a smile crept across my face. The song became less painful and more inspirational as I looked around that ballroom, filled with love and the promise of a new beginning.

So many people; friends, family and even strangers have been asking me, “How do you stay so positive?” They mention that I’m “inspiring.” I’m so flattered, but I don’t ever think of myself that way. God has given me the gift of life and shown me how fragile it can be. He’s allowing me to watch my very own body perform the miracle of healing. Even though what I’ve experienced in the past eight months has been brutal and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, I’ve always been an optimistic person and because of my faith I remain optimistic. The word “can’t” has never been in my vocabulary, and now more than ever I refuse to let that cruel word walk into my life.

I felt like I lost part of my soul the day I lost my leg. I saw my dreams of singing and dancing on Broadway being crushed; I felt confused and angry with God. I was worried that when I looked down at my feet all I would feel was a sense of loss. I’m happy to have been wrong. Now the prosthesis I can finally wear is a testament to my powerlessness and to God’s might. Who could have imagined that at 24 years old what I consider to be my greatest achievement is simply walking? I’ve worked hard in my life at many jobs, classes and auditions, but learning to walk with a prosthetic leg at physical therapy has been the most powerful and humbling experience of my life.

I used to think of my prosthesis as “the torture device” because it was extremely painful, but now it seems like magic. Of course it’s still a little uncomfortable and my residual limb feels sore after a long day wearing the prosthetic leg, but there’s no better feeling than looking down at my two feet and taking a step. It could simply be a step towards the fridge to pour myself a glass of water, or it could be taking a step onto the stage.

At this point the only thing holding me back is fear. But isn’t that true for everybody? My experience was pretty extreme, but we all have obstacles to overcome. For me the obstacles are just a little more noticeable! It’s taken a while, but I’m pushing myself to drive again. I’m even trying things I’d never done before! Like discovering my love of kayaking and Pilates. I’ve also been studying anatomy so that I can go back to school to become a physical therapist assistant. I’m writing more original songs and now I’m writing a play. My capacity for compassion and determination has grown so I’ve become a motivational speaker and advocate for disability and amputee awareness in the media. Who knows what the future holds, my only goal is to praise God through my actions and contribute to my community.

I’m in a show now and one member of the cast had no idea that I use a prosthesis because I’ve been wearing long pants. When I walk down the street or into a restaurant, no one knows the trauma I’ve endured; they can’t see that I’m part of the nearly 20% of disabled Americans. I’m thankful to be able to hide my disability and appear “normal”; some people don’t have that luxury. Yet, sometimes when people can’t tell I’m an amputee I feel guilty for hiding that part of my life. I’m not ashamed of my leg, in fact, I’m pretty proud of it!

There are times when I choose to expose my prosthetic leg so that strangers may see it and ask me about it. I like to show that there can be opportunity in adversity. However, people tend to stare, gawk, and point and this makes me uncomfortable. After experiencing such a traumatic event and enduring so much discomfort the last thing I want to do is purposefully put myself it an uncomfortable situation. I don’t like it when people just stare or get embarrassed by their child questioning my leg; I want them to ask me questions about my disability so that society can stop fearing disability. As the playwright, John Belluso, says “disability is the minority no one wants to join but anyone can fall into at any time.” Instead of fearing this fact we must become aware that disability is a natural part of life.

As I move forward with my life, my goals, and my dreams I find myself drawing closer to God and relying more on prayer. This experience has shown me that everything happens for a reason. Even though this injury certainly wasn’t in my life plan, sometimes the most creativity happens when you color outside the lines. My injury dared me to be vulnerable and taught me to be strong. With prayer and the support and aid of my parents, brothers, extended family, friends, talented team of surgeons, doctors, nurses, therapists and prosthetist, my dreams of singing and dancing on a Broadway stage have not been– and will never be – extinguished. Life is truly, limBitless.

 By Rachel Handler
RachelHandler76@yahoo.com
Actor, Singer, Dancer, Motivational Speaker
Personal website: http://www.rachelhandler.webs.com