DON’T HOPE,…DECIDE! and Keep your dream

Am so sorry I haven't posted for a long time, but it's because i was a bit sick. Now am almost well, thanks be to God. Today am not well enough to blog either, so am gonna live you with two great motivational stories by some guys. The stories are 100% true, and I hope they will help you alot.

Tommorow, however, I'll blog something you do not want to miss. Tommorow we'll be speaking about Sex! Yea, you heard me right, SEX EDUCATION for teens.

DON’T HOPE,…DECIDE!  

 While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other people talk about — the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly. This one occurred a mere two feet away from me.

Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.

First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other’s face, I heard the father say, “It’s so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!” His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly, “Me, too, Dad!”

Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son’s face in his hands said, “You’re already quite the young man. I love you very much, Zach!” They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother’s arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said, “Hi, baby girl!” as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, “I’ve saved the best for last!” and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed. “I love you so much!” They stared at each other’s eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands.

For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn’t possibly be. I puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm’s length away from me. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, “Wow! How long have you two been married?

“Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those.” he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife’s face. “Well then, how long have you been away?” I asked. The man finally turned and looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile. “Two whole days!”

Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, I had assumed he’d been gone for at least several weeks – if not months. I know my expression betrayed me.

I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend),  “I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!”

The man suddenly stopped smiling.

He looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person. He told me, “Don’t hope, friend… decide!” Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, “God bless!”

- By Michael D. Hargrove and Bottom Line Underwriters, Inc.
Copyright 1997

Keep your dream    

I got my friend  Monty Roberts who owns a horse ranch in San Ysidro. He has let me use his house to put on fund-raising events to raise money for youth at risk programs.

The last time I was there he introduced me by saying, “I want to tell you why I let Jack use my horse. It all goes back to a story about a young man who was the son of an itinerant horse trainer who would go from stable to stable, race track to race track, farm to farm and ranch to ranch, training horses. As a result, the boy’s high school career was continually interrupted. When he was a senior, he was asked to write a paper about what he wanted to be and do when he grew up.
“That night he wrote a seven-page paper describing his goal of someday owning a horse ranch. He wrote about his dream in great detail and he even drew a diagram of a 200-acre ranch, showing the location of all the buildings, the stables and the track. Then he drew a detailed floor plan for a 4,000-square-foot house that would sit on a 200-acre dream ranch.
“He put a great deal of his heart into the project and the next day he handed it in to his teacher. Two days later he received his paper back. On the front page was a large red F (Yea, In America they give people F. You have to thank God you Kenyans that the lowest grade you can recieve is an E. In Asia, however, I hear there are only two grades available in their curriculum. you either get an A or you get an E. Unbelievable? Believe it.) with a note that read, `See me after class.’
“The boy with the dream went to see the teacher after class and asked, `Why did I receive an F?’
“The teacher said, `This is an unrealistic dream for a young boy like you. You have no money. You come from an itinerant family. You have no resources. Owning a horse ranch requires a lot of money. You have to buy the land. You have to pay for the original breeding stock and later you’ll have to pay large stud fees. There’s no way you could ever do it.’ Then the teacher added, `If you will rewrite this paper with a more realistic goal, I will reconsider your grade.’
“The boy went home and thought about it long and hard. He asked his father what he should do. His father said, `Look, son, you have to make up your own mind on this. However, I think it is a very important decision for you.’ “Finally, after sitting with it for a week, the boy turned in the same paper, making no changes at all.
He stated, “You can keep the F and I’ll keep my dream.”
Monty then turned to the assembled group and said, “I tell you this story because you are sitting in my 4,000-square-foot house in the middle of my 200-acre horse ranch. I still have that school paper framed over the fireplace.” He added, “The best part of the story is that two summers ago that same schoolteacher brought 30 kids to camp out on my ranch for a week.” When the teacher was leaving, he said, “Look, Monty, I can tell you this now. When I was your teacher, I was something of a dream stealer. During those years I stole a lot of kids’ dreams. Fortunately you had enough gumption not to give up on yours.”
“Don’t let anyone steal your dreams. Follow your heart, no matter what.”

- Author Unknown

30 minutes at the police station

There is always a first time for everything, right? Today was my first time to visit a police station, and to be more specific, a police cell. Let me tell you my 30 minute experience at the police cell.

I boarded the matatu opposite st.Peter’s, if any one of you knows where the place is. The fare from Town to Kiambu was quite fair (no pun intended) at 30 bob.  Sooner than later, we were cruising at neck break speed along Kiambu Road. But our peace and calm was cut short when an officer hailed the vehicle to a stop. As it is normal practice in Kenya, we expected that the officer would be given a little bribe and then we would continue on our journey. Little did we know that this officer was made of different mettle. Instead, the officer wanted to check if all the passengers had  their seatbelts on.  That was when each and everyone of us started to fumble for around their seat searching for the seatbelt. My American friends might find this odd, but it is a very abnormal practice in Kenya for passengers to put their seatbelts on. I mean who checks for seatbelts anyway?

The Typical Kenyan Police

The officer watched us for a moment as we helplessly felt around our seats for the belts. Then the realization hit us hard: THE VEHICLE HAD NO SEATBELTS! Without mincing his words, the stern officer made it clear to us that he was leading the matatu to Kiambu Police Station where we would all be remanded until Monday, when we would be arraigned in court on Monday. Staying at the police cell for 4 days!

Sorry I don’t have much time now, but join me tomorrow to find out what happened at the police station and how I managed to escape.

Stopping Kony: Charity begins at home.

A friend of mine who stays in the USA invited to me to an event on Facebook called Cover the Night.   When I visited the page for the event, I found out that thousands of people had been invited too. What could this popular event be? I wondered to myself. Well, I read the event profile and found out that it was a campaign to popularize a certain Mr. Kony. Apparently, the organizers wanted youth to buy posters of this Kony man and stick them everywhere in their towns tonight so as to popularise the guy.

Who is this Mr. Kony and why does he have to be popular? I kept wondering. That’s when I decided to consult my extremely bright and wise uncle Google.  What uncle told me was shocking. Apparently, Kony is a guy who has been Kidnapping kids and recruiting them to his ghastly Lord’s Resistance Army. Apparently, the LRA has made it a hobby to kill Ugandan people left, right and center.

Why should such a guy be made popular? In response to this, my uncle told me that for a long time, the LRA have been enjoying impunity because few people were aware of what was going on in Uganda. If more people are made aware of the happenings in Uganda, then pressure can be mounted on responsible bodies to help bring the man down so he can be prosecuted.

I felt really ashamed after I read that. Imagine guys in America were fighting hard for the rights of Ugandan children while Kenya remains unruffled and unbothered by the skirmishes in Uganda! The irony of it is that while America is a country miles away from Uganda, Kenya shares a border with it! Isn’t it absurd that I learnt about Kony from my American friend Parker?

I urge you guys to watch the documentary against Kony and join the fight by sharing this on your facebook and twitter accounts. Pass it on please… for the children of Uganda.

Recovering from KCSE my own way : After a Hurricane comes the Rainbow.

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?

Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams, but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you?

You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

'Cause baby, you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh, oh, oh
As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh, oh, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down

Only my friend Rono knew what i had planned to do to myself if i were to fail KCSE. Well, i managed to fall one point short of my desired grade, thus managing the Asian's F. I really wanted to repeat form four and redo KCSE again, but my parents would hear none of it. Come on, would you allow your child to rewind high schoool with an A-? I doubt. And who am I? Asian?
As Bobby McFerrin sung, every life will have some trouble. if you worry it will make it double. I have since recovered from the shock, but my ultra ego was badly bruised. I badly needed something to boost my ego. So i decided to write a book to help others pass the exam i had failed. A series of books actually, for every examinable subject in KCSE.
Now you are probably thinking i am nuts, aren't you? But i won't be writing all the books by myself. I am gonna team up with a group of top achievers from top national schools in Kenya, and together we are gonna author those books. The publishers, Nolwan Publishers, are the ones who are gonna gather the former students of top schools.
Our series would be titled "Jibambe na KCSE." Quite a catchy title, don't you think? e the head of the writing team, and I'll write a forward for each and every book. Personally, I'll author books for Christian Religious Education, CRE. It was my favourite subject in High School (although i would scrap religious education if i were the minister for education. But that's a story for another day).
By managing to publish the series, i would have given my self-esteem a boost it really needs. Wish me luck, will you? Remember you too are a firework. You gotto let your colours shine.

You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it's time, you'll know

MY First Post

Hi, My name is Jones, by the way. i have always kept diaries since my days in High school, and writing is my passion. Now i have finally decided to open a blog, Snippets of my life. On this blog, i plan to post almost everything that happens in my day to day life. it will be a form of a private journal, but i invite you guys out there to read it and submit your comments. i actually don't know what to post today, the first day i am posting. but i hope as days go by, my journal will become more interesting and through it, i will make friends with lots of guys from around the globe. i know no one is reading this, but thanks all the same for visiting my blog. hope you will visit again soon.