A Dogs Purpose
From a 6-year-old

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, 'I know why.'

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, 'People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?' The six-year-old continued, 'Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.'

Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.
Speak kindly.

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

• When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
• Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
• Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
• Take naps.
• Stretch before rising.
• Run, romp, and play daily.
• Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
• Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
• On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
• On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
• When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
• Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
• Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough.
• Be loyal. Never pretend to be something you're not.
• If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
• When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
• Being always grateful for each new day and for the blessing of you.
• ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY
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NEED WASHING?

A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Target. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Target.

We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.

The little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in " Mom, let's run through the rain," she said. " What?" Mom asked. ." Let’s run through the rain!" She repeated.

" No, honey, we'll wait until it slows down a bit." Mom replied. This young child waited about another minute and repeated: " Mom, let's run through the rain."

" We'll get soaked if we do," Mom said.

" No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning," the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm. ” This morning…when did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?”

" Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!"

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes. Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said, but this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life, a time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.

" Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD lets us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing," Mom said.

Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.

And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories...So, don't forget to make time and take the opportunities to make memories everyday. To everything there is a season and a time to e very purpose under heaven.

I HOPE YOU STILL TAKE THE TIME TO RUN THROUGH THE RAIN.
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JUST A MOM?

A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk 's office, was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

" What I mean is," explained the recorder, " do you have a job or are you just a ...?"

" Of course I have a job," snapped the woman. " I'm a Mom."

" We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it," Said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, " Official Interrogator" or " Town Registrar."

" What is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it? I do not know. The words simply popped out. " I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

" Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, " just what you do in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, " I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job
is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone
more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than " just another Mom." Motherhood!

What a glorious career! Especially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers " Senior Research associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations" And great grandmothers " Executive Senior Research Associates?" I think so!!! I also think it makes Aunts " Associate Research Assistants."
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My son in law has just returned from Iraq. My two year old granddaughter, Alyssa talks all about her hero Daddy. We had countdowns everyday and then I would say who is coming home and she would say, my Daddy and I would say my daddy my...... and in her little two year old voice she would say my hero. The day my son in law came home there was a formal ceremony, when the room was totally quiet, Alyssa said " Where's My daddy, My Hero?" in a very clear voice. Well my son in law was standing in formation, as soon as he was dismissed he came over to his little daughter, he said " Daddy heard you baby, I love you."    Imagine hearing that little baby welcome home her father in a way nobody else could. Welcome home to the 773rd Transportation Company, Ft Totten, NY our heroes.    
- Cathy Dugan (Mastic Beach, NY)
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Being a MOM...

We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions
that she and her husband are thinking of " starting a family." " We're taking
a survey," she says half-joking. " Do you think I should have a baby?"

" It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.

" I know," she says, " no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."

But that is not what I me ant at all.

I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her.

I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.

I want to tell her that t he physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but
becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she
will forever be vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without
asking, " What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every
house fire will haunt her.

That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if
anything could be worse than watching your child die.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no
matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the
primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of " Mom!"
will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments
hes i tation.

I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has
invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an
important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell.
She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home,
just to make sure her baby is all right.

I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be
routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather
than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right
there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of
independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that
a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.

However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself
const an tly as a mother.

Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she
will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about
herse lf.

That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has
a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring,
but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own
dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.

My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks.

I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful
to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child.

I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for
reasons she would now find very unromantic.

I wish my daughter could s ens e the bond she will feel with women throughout
history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.

I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.

I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the
soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time.

I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my
eyes. " You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the
table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and
for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this
most wonderful of callings.
- Cathy Dugan (Mastic Beach, NY)
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What is the cost of a grandchild?

The government recently calculated the cost of raising a child from birth to 18 and came up with $160,140 for a middle income family.. Talk about sticker shock! That doesn't even touch college tuition.

But $160,140 isn't so bad if you break it down. It translates into:

* $8,896.66 a year,
* $741.38 a month, or
* $171.08 a week.
* That's a mere $24.24 a day!
* Just over a dollar an hour.

Still, you might think the best financial advice is don't have children if you want to be " rich."    Actually, it is just the opposite. What do parents get for $160,140?
* Naming rights. First, middle, and last!
* Glimpses of God every day.
* Giggles under the covers every night.
* More love than your heart can hold.
* Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.
* Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies.
* A hand to hold, usually covered with jelly or chocolate.
* A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites
* Someone to laugh yourself silly with, no matter what the boss said or how your stocks performed that day.

For $160,140, you never have to grow up. You get to:
* finger-paint,
* carve pumpkins,
* play hide-and-seek,
* catch lightning bugs, and
* never stop believing in Santa Claus.

You have an excuse to:
* keep reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh,
* watching Saturday morning cartoons,
* going to Disney movies, and
* wishing on stars.
* You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set in clay or Mother's Day and Grandparent's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's Day.

For $160,140, there is no greater bang for your buck. You get to be a hero just for:
* retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof,
* taking the training wheels off a bike,
* re moving a splinter,
* filling a wading pool,
* coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.

You get a front row seat to history to witness the:
* first step,
* first word,
* first bra,
* first date, and
* first time behind the wheel.

You get to be immortal. You get another branch added to your family tree, and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary called grandchildren and great grandchildren. You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal justice, communications, and human sexuality that no college can match.

In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there under God. You have all the power to heal a boo-boo, scare away the monsters under the bed, patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them forever, and love them without limits, So . one day they will, like you, love without counting the cost. That is quite a deal for the price!

Love & enjoy your children & grandchildren!
- Cathy Dugan (Mastic Beach, NY)
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My husband and I were spending a leisurely Sunday morning with both grandkids: Reef, 5 and Kia, 3. They were each riding their little trikes around the pool deck while we sat watching them from our lawnchairs. All of sudden, Reef runs up to me with his eyes wide and breathless saying, “ YaYa! YaYa!…I found a spider…and…and…it really scared the dick outta me.” Realizing that he was using a new expression that he must have heard recently… probably something about scaring the Dickens out of someone...   my husband and I looked towards each other laughing… while realizing again how lucky we are to have this wonderful gift… our GRANDchildren.

- Susan Morris (Maitland, FL)
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Dandle with Care

I missed something early on in life. This is from a recent conversation with my wife:

        “I’ll tell you exactly what’s wrong with you,” said she.
        “Again?” said I.
“You were never dandled enough as a child.”

As usual, she was right.
Most dandling is done by parents and grandparents. In my case, my father died when I was four, thus severely limiting my dandling time with him. As a single parent, my mother did not have much time to dandle. I didn’t see my grandmothers often before they died, and my grandfathers had the lack of foresight to die before I was born. There was no dandling from them. Having no siblings and going through my childhood relatively under-dandled, I often turned to my imaginary friends for comfort, but they would never even talk to me, let alone dandle me. I have five grandchildren now. That fact does not qualify me to expound on grandparenting. I have heard of a woman who is not only a grandmother, but also a great-grandmother, a great-great-grandmother, and a great-great-great grandmother. That’s a lot of greats and grands. I don’t know the grand total of her progeny, but she would probably look at me with disdain. Nevertheless, I offer some thoughts from one of the dandle-deprived.

You have probably been on both sides of a dandle, though not at the same time. For those of you not familiar with the word, it means to move (a baby usually) up and down in your arms or on your knee. Don’t confuse it with “dangle.” For example, I don’t think you will ever see a dandling participle. It’s not a new word. It appears in the King James Version of the Bible:
For thus saith the LORD, Behold, I will extend peace
to her like a river, and the glory of the Gentiles like
a flowering stream; then shall ye suck, ye shall be
borne upon her sides, and be dandled upon her knees.
(Isaiah 66: 12)

Maybe we should heed these words. They sound very much like a Commandment: Thou shalt dandle.
Maybe you are uncomfortable dandling, or your dandling skills need honing. If so, you can practice on a Little Dandle doll that can be purchased online at SHOP.COM.
Dandle your grandchildren when you have the chance. They love that kind of play time, and the stimulation, as long as it is not overdone, is good for them. Be careful, though; timing is everything. Dandled too early in its life, the child might spit up on you. That could diminish the fun for you. I have never heard a grandparent say, “I love it when my grandchild spits up on me.”   There is also the pain factor. If the child is too young, you could hurt it. If it is too old, it could hurt you. An attempt to catch up on dandling with teenage grandchildren, for example, is not advisable. You won’t be able to pick them up, and they would have very little tolerance for being bounced on your knee. A good rule to remember is that if they can dandle you, don’t try to dandle them.
Holidays seem to be good times to dandle. For example, the child will be very grateful for a good dandle on Thanksgiving, or if the family is together on the Fourth of July, a Yankee Doodle dandle to the rousing music of Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes Forever” may be just the thing.
Though not frequently used now, the word “dandle” still makes an occasional appearance. In “To Dandle on Your Knee,” the Kansas poet J.M. Cavaness writes,
When life is in the yellow leaf,
   And snow is in the air,
And frosts of many winters touch
   To white the raven hair,
There’s naught that brings the springtime back,
   With all its joy and glee,
As a lovely little grand child
               To dandle on your knee.

We can all use more “joy and glee” in our lives. Most children love it, and when I’m dandling, I don’t feel my age so much.

If you are a new grandparent, you might not know that mothers and fathers are not the only ones with an official day in their honor. You have one, too. In 1979, President Jimmy Carter proclaimed the first Sunday after Labor Day to be National Grandparents Day. He said that we grandparents provide “our society a link to our national heritage and traditions.” If you received no tribute from your grandchildren this year on September 10, tell them that they have ignored a Presidential Proclamation and they will no doubt suffer serious consequences. Don’t tell them that in the middle of a dandle, though. It will just confuse them.

                                                                                   
Reprinted with permission by Jack Sinkhorn
Boise, ID
- Jack Sinkhorn (Boise, ID)
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For National Grandparents' Day, Sept. 10, our son's two children, Aria and Trey, decorated small boxes with sayings such as " If Mommy says NO, Ask Grandma!" , " I Love my Grandma" , " The apple of my Grandpa's eye" , etc. Inside were pictures of them and us from the past year plus dozens of slips of paper they had written special memories on. Some of them were as simple as " Thank you for taking us to the museum" to special ones such as " Thank you for our Daddy." They were all wonderful and many brought tears to our eyes. Some recalled mishaps from the past year like, " I'm sorry you lost your favorite hat at Disney World" and everyday ones like " Thank you for taking bike rides with us" and " We love to go camping with you."

When you have grandchildren to love and who love you in return, you are the luckiest people in the world.
- Marilyn Zaruba (Mansfield, TX)
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WE HAVE 4 GRANDCHILDREN. TODAY I AM SHARING ABOUT OUR FIRSTBORN GRANDCHILD. PAYCE WAS BORN ON CHRISTMAS DAY 1999. HE WAS 7 WEEKS PREMATURE. THEY HAD US PREPARED FOR THE WORST, ASSUMING HE WOULD WEIGH ONE POUND OR UNDER. PAYCE CAME INTO THE WORLD AT 2 POUNDS 11 OUNCES! HE HAD A LONG HAUL IN THE NEO NATAL UNIT, INCLUDING BLOOD AND PLATELET TRANSFUSIONS, BUT HE THRIVED, NEVER LOSING EVEN AN OUNCE! PAYCE CAME HOME ON HIS ONE MONTH BIRTHDAY, 4 POUNDS 3 OZ. WHAT ELSE COULD BE BORN ON CHRISTMAS BUT A MIRACLE! YES WE LOVE ALL OUR GRANCHILDREN, BUT PAYCE HOLDS A SPECIAL PLACE IN THIS " BAMA'S" HEART AND WILL FOREVER!!! TODAY HE IS ALMOST SEVEN YEARS OLD AND TRULY THE MIRACLE WE CLAIMED HIM TO BE, AS HE IS A NORMAL HEALTHY THRIVING YOUNG BOY WITH TWO BROTHERS AND A SISTER! WE LOVE YOU PAYCE!
- DOROTHY BROWN (SUMMERFIELD, FL)
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