Nothing is without meaning

My eyes are the light,

for the green of Spring and the white of the snow,

for the grey of the clouds

and for the blue of the sky,

for the stars at night,

and for the incredible miracle

of so many wonderful people around me.

My mouth is for the word,

For every gentle word

someone is waiting for.

My lips are for kissing

And my hands for softness, for tenderness,

For giving comfort and bread to the poor.

My feet are for the path

Which leads me to the dispossessed.

My heart is for love, for warmth,

For those who are abandoned and left in the cold.

My body exists to be close to others.

Without my body I am nowhere.

Nothing is without meaning!

Everything has a deep significance!

Why then am I not happy?

Are my eyes closed?

Is my mouth full of bitterness?

Are my hands ‘grabbers’ and my heart dry?

Don’t I know

That I was born for joy?

"Sooner or later", writes the author of Give Happiness a Chance,
"you bang your head against the inevitable obstacle. You become sick. You have an accident. Your loved one dies...This tragedy, this obstacle, is  a reality in every person's life. But fewer and fewer people can cope with it."

Phil Bosman is the author of this  book and messages. He has helped people cope with crises of everyday life in a unique way. I would suggest you to read some of his messages. You can make your own decisions if you like them or not. 

In the days to come, you will find different messages in the way he has presented them in his great book: 

"Give happiness a chance"

fm

Hello there

Hello there friend.

Use your time to be happy

You are a walking marvel

You have no equal

You are unique, irreplaceable,

did you know that?

Why aren't you surprised?

Why aren’t you glad, astonished

About yourself

And what about everyone else

you know?

Do you think that it’s so natural,

so obvious,

that you are alive,

that you can go on living,

that you are given time

to sing and to dance,

and to be happy?

Why then loose your time

In the senseless pursuit

Of money and possessions?

Why make a crowd of worries

of tomorrow and the days after tomorrow?

Why quarrel, bore yourself in empty amusements

And then sleep when the sun shines?

Take your time quietly

And be happy.

Time is no speedway

Between the cradle and the grave

but space

to find a place in the sun.

The Three Billy Goats Gruff

  Once upon a time there were three Billy Goats named Gruff who lived together on a mountainside. Now on their mountainside there was ery little to eat, but just across the way was a beautiful pasture of green grass. On the way to this pasture they had  to pass over  a bridge, and under  the bridge  lived a big bad troll. One day trip-trap, the youngest Billy Goat  Gruff started across the bridge. Who trips over my bridge? Roared the troll. Only Littlest Goat Gruff, said  the little goat in a soft voice. Aha. I am going to come up and eat you, said the troll.Oh , don’t eat me, cried the Littlest Gruff

                             My bigger brother is coming after me , and he is much bigger than I . So the troll grumbled and rumbled but he let the Littlest Billy Goat Gruff cross the bridge to pastuer. Soon trip-trap trip-trap the second Billy Goat Gruff started across the bridge. Who trips over my bridge? Roared the troll. Only middle-sized Billy Goat Gruff, said the second  goat. Aha, I am going to come up and eat you, said the troll. Oh don’t eat me, cried the Middle-Sized Gruff. My bigger brother is coming after me, and he is much bigger than I . So the troll grumbled  and rumbled, but he let the Middle-sized Billy Goat Gruff cross the bridge to the pasture. Soon trip-trap, trip-trap the biggest Billy goat Gruff started across the bridge. Who tramps over my bridge? Roared the troll. It is I , Great Big Billy Goat Gruff, shouted the biggest goat. Aha, I am going to come up and eat you, said the troll. Come along, cried Great Big Billy Goat Gruff. So up came the old troll. But the Grat Big Billy Goat Gruff put down his head and bounded forward and hurled that troll right off the bridge and he was never seen again. Then the Grat Big Billy Goat Gruff joined his brothers in the pasture. And the grass was so delicious that all three goats grew so fat that they could hardly walk home. And snip, snap, snout, my story’s out.

This is another beloved story to many young readers. I always enjoy reading it. 

Wish you do the same this evening.

The three bears   

                          

 In a neat little cottage in the midst of a deep woods there once lived three bears. One was a great big daddy bear. One was a middle-sized mother bear. And one was a wee little baby bear. One morning Mother Bear made a big batch of porridge for breakfast. She filled a great big bowl for Daddy Bear, a middle-sized bowl for her middle-sized self, and a wee little bowl for Baby Bear. Them they went out for a walk in the woods while the porridge was cooling. That same morning a little girl named Goldilocks had gone for a walk by herself. She had gone much farther than she should have and found herself in the deep woods where she had never been. All at once she saw through the trees a near little cottage. I wonder who lives there, way off in the woods, she thought. She knocked on the door, but no one came, so she walked right in. There was no one in the living room, but it looked very comfortable, so Goldlocks decided to sit down to rest. First she sat in the great big daddy bear chair. This is much too hard for me, she said. Then she sat in the middle-sized mother bear chair. This is much too soft for me,she said. Then she sat in the wee little baby bear chair. This is just right, she said. But as she sat down, it broke all to pieces. So Goldilocks went on until she found the three bowls of porridge set out to cool. It smelled very good, so she decided to taste it. First she tasted the porridge in great big daddy bear bowl. This is too hot for me, she said. Then she tasted the porridge in the middle-sized mother bear bowl. This is too cold for me, she said. Then she tasted the porridge in the wee little baby bear bowl. This is just right, she said, and ate it up. Then Goldilocks went upstairs. There was no one there either, but the beds looked very inviting, so she decided to take a nap. Firstshe tried the great big daddy bear bed. This is too hard for me, she said. Then she tried the middle-sized mother bear bed.This is too soft for me, she said. Then she tried the wee little baby bear bed. This is just right, she said.So she curled up and fell asleep. Soon the three bears came home from their walk. They could soon see that someone had been in their house. Someone’s been sitting in my chair, said the father bear in his great big voice. Someone’s been sitting in my chair, said the mother bear in her middle-sized voice. Someone’s been sitting in my chair, said the baby bear in his wee little voice, and has broken it all to pieces. The three bears looked around at the bowls of porridge they had set out to cool. Someone’s been tasting my porridge, said the father bear in his great big voice. Someone’s been tasting my porridge, said the mother bear in her middle-sized voice. Someone’s been tasting my porridge, said the baby bear in his wee little voice, and has eaten it all up. Now the three bears hurried upstairs. Someone’s been sleeping in my bed, said the father bear in his great big voice. Someone’s been sleeping in my bed, said the mother bear in her  middle-sized voice. Someone’s been sleeping in my bed, said the baby bear in his weee little voice, and  here she is. Just then Goldilocks woke up. When she saw the great big father bear and the middle-sized mother bear and the wee little baby bear all standing there looking at her, she sprang out of the wee little bed, and hurried down the stairs and out the door before the bears could turn around. Then she ran and ran until she was home. And never again did she wander off into the deep woods alone, and never again did she see the neat little cottage of the three bears.

                                              

Today's word chosen is 'touch'. 

I wish you all, a nice weekend 

fm

Touch 

Press you press any part of a machine to make it work, e.g. a computer key or a button in a lift to go up/down.

Punch if you punch sth/sbyou hit them hard with your fist (=your tightly closed hand.) punch N.

Stroke you stroke sb’s hair or an animal’s fur (=animal hair) by moving your hand gently and slowly over it, often to show affection. You can also pat an animal (=touch it gently several times with your hand flat, usually to show affection).

Squeeze you squeeze sth, e.g. a sponge , by pressing it firmly.

Pinch you can pinch sbhard (=with force so that it hurts) or lightly.

Tap you tap sb on the arm or shoulder quickly and lightly to get their attention (=get them to listen to you or look at you).

Nudge if you nudge sb, you give them a little push with your elbow, often to draw their attention to sth/sb (=make them look at sth/sb).

Rub when you rub sth, you move your hands over its surface while pressing on it. You can rub cream into your skin with your hands or fingertips (=the ends of your fingers).

Massage you massage sb’s body by pressing, squeezing or rubbing it in order to reduce pain or relax them. massage_N. You can do it gently, firmly or vigorously (=with energy).

Hi there,

 Hope and wish you enjoyed your day today.There is another word chosen for you this evening.

Have a peaceful evening with a little study.

fm

Sight

One of my roles as a police officer is to carry out surveillance on criminal activity. Fortunately, I have perfect eyesight and excellent powers of observation. As part of the investigation into Lou Green’s case, I was sent to keep watch on his house. I parked nearby and sat unobtrusively in the passenger seat, wearing a disguise so that if Green walked by and glanced at me, he wouldn’t recognize me.

At 22:30, Green drove up to the front door and quickly disappeared inside. I was sure he hadn’t noticed my car or spotted anything unusual. I could just make out his movements through the curtains. At 22:55, he stared out of the window, clearly on the lookout for someone. Suddenly, a taxi arrived, and Green moved out of sight. I caught a glimpse of his visitor entering the house, with what looked like a violin case…

Word Focus

A disguise is something you wear or use to change your appearance so that nobody will recognize you; you go out in disguise. You can disguise yourself as sb/sth: He disguised himself as a waiter.

Surveillance the act of watching a person suspected of a crime.

eyesightthe ability to see.
observationthe act of watching sb/sth carefully for a period of time. _{OBSERVE STH/SB} V.
keep watch (on sth/sb) watch sth/sb carefully so that you are ready to act if necessary.
unobtrusivelyin a way that doesn’t attract attention.
glance at sth/sblook quickly at sth/sbglance _N. : have a quick glance at sth.
recognizesbknow who sb is when you see or hear them, because you have seen or heard them before.
disappearbecome impossible to see. _SYN. Vanish _OPP appear
notice sthsee sth and be aware of it.
spotsb/sthsee sb/sth suddenly when they are not easy to see.
makesth out see sth with difficulty. (often used with just for emphasis.)
stare (at sth/sb) look at sb/sth very directly for a long time. _STARE N.
on the look out for sb/sthwatching carefully for sb/sth.
out of sight where sb/sth cannot be seen. OPPin sight.
catch a glimpse of sb/sthsee sb/sth for a very short time. _SYN glimpse sb/sth.

Dear students,

As the weather is going on the wrong side these days and probably you a have a little more time at home doing not much of your desirable things, why not try learning something as the following. 

It is an important topic and it is good if we know a couple of words on it. 

I wish you all a nice and quiet evening.

fm

Taste

How was your meal at “Zeno”? Tell us.

Dad had a vegetarian dish : it was full of spicy flavors, but not too hot . Jan

It was a tasty meal, and obviously made with really fresh ingredients.  Su

The beef was a real disappointment – chewy and rather tasteless. In fact, it was almost inedible.  Andi.

The starter was so-so, but then I had the chicken. I swallowed a mouthful and it had the most I terrible aftertaste. I couldn’t eat the rest!  Li

I had French onion soup which was delicious and very authentic. Boo

I tried their special bread; the texture was OK, but it tasted artificial and it was a bit stale.  Lorrie

I’ve got a sweet tooth, but the dessert was very sickly. And the coffee afterwards was a bit weak. Ali

WORD FOCUS

You use your teeth to bite(= cut with your teeth) food: She bit a piece of apple. Bite  
You chew food to make smaller pieces in your mouth before you swallow it. If something is chewy, you have to chew it for a long time.

Spicy having strong flavours from spices, e.g. paprika, coriander, ginger.
flavor a particular taste.
hot containing pepper or chilli and causing a burning feeling in your mouth. _OP  mild.
tasty having a strong, pleasant flavor.
inedible too unpleasant to eat. _OPP edible
so-so _INF OK, but not good.
swallow sth make food move from your mouth, down you throat, into your stomach.
mouthful an amount of food you put in your mouth at one time.
aftertaste a taste, often an unpleasant one, that stays in your mouth after eating or drinking sth.
delicious having a very pleasant taste or smell.
authentic if a dish tastes authentic, it tastes like an original or traditional example.
texture  the way food feels in your mouth when you eat it.
artificial  not natural
stale (of bread, cakes, etc.) not fresh
have (got) a sweet tooth  enjoy food that has a lot of sugar in it.
sickly unpleasantly sweet
weak (of coffee, tea, etc.) containing too much water and not enough coffee, tea etc. _OPP strong

Joan of Arc  and the power of Fearlessness

A very long time ago, in 1412, 80 years before Christopher Columbus discovered America, a girl was  born in a village in northwestern France called Domremy.

               The proud parents, Jacques D’Arc and his wife Isabelle, named her Jeanne, or Joan as she is known in English. She was to become one of the most famous women who ever lived.

        Joan was bright and witty girl known for her gentleness and kindness. She was a great help to her family. She learned how to sew and to spin thread, but she never learned how to read or write.

       Joan was a very religious girl. She was often found deep in prayer in the church at Domremy. Joan had much to pray for, because her country was being turned to ruins in a great war with England that came to be called the Hundred Years’ War.

Henry VI, the king of England claimed that he was the rightful ruler of France. He had the support of the French duke of Burgundy. But others claimed the crown for the French dauphin, Charles. The dauphin was the son of the French king, Charles VI, and heir to his throne.

     Several times when Joan was growing up, she heard the sounds of battle raging near her little town. The English and their allies, the Burgundians, tried to defeat the supporters of the dauphin in northwestern France, but they never succeeded. 

           When Joan was about 13, a very strange thing happened to her. She began to hear the voices of Saint Michael, Saint Margaret and Saint Catherine, the saints whose statues stood in the church at Domremy. Joan did not like to talk about the voices or what they told her, but she was convinced they were real.

         When she was about 16, the voices told her to help Charles defeat the English and claim the crown of France.

         

Joan knew nothing about warfare, but she had faith in her voices and was a fearless young woman. She says goodbye to her family and friends, and began her journey to the nearby town of Vaucouleurs to see the French commander there.

                  At first the commander laughed at Joan and sent her back home. But voices urged her to try again and she returned to Vaucouleurs. Finally the commander sent her to see the dauphin.  

Charles was impressed by this fearless young woman who announced that she was sent by God to defeat the English and make him king. .But he wondered if she might be imagining her voices, or making up her story entirely.

               Charles had Joan questioned by the wisest church officials he could find They found no fault with her religious beliefs and could not shake her belief in her voices or in her mission.

             At last Charles gave Joan a force of French soldiers. She led them to the city of Orleans, which was completely surrounded by the English.

           The fall of Orleans could have been a great victory for the English, but Joan never doubted the outcome of the battle. The French soldiers took heart at the sight of this young woman in armor, standing fearlessly in the heart of the battle and urging her troops to victory. In contest after contest, enemy strongholds fell to joan and soon the English were forced to retreat from Orleans.

Now Joan began to capture the English-held towns that stood in the path of her goal, the city of Reims, where all the French kings for a long time had been crowned.

             The English were terrified by this girl in armor. She seemed to know more about making war than their finest generals and seemed to have  no fear at all. One by one the towns surrendered to Joan.

          Finally the road to Reims was clear. Charles marched into the city at the head of a victorious army. The next day he was crowned Charles VII,  king of France.

       Joan urged Charles to continue the fight to free his country but he was a cautious man and put off fighting.

        After months of waiting, Joan set out with a small force, but she found no more great victories. At the town of Compiegne she was captured by Burgundians and sold to the English. She was charged with being a witch.

              Joan stood up fearlessly to the charges brought against her, especially the charge that her voices were false. Finally she was sentenced to death.

           Joan did not live to see her 20^th birthday, but her fearlessness gave the French courage to continue their struggle. In time they forced the English to give up their claims and return to England. Today Joan of Arc is honored as one of the great heroines of France.

The ugly Duckling                          

 The country was lovely; it was summer. In the shade of great leaves which formed a secluded  shelter near a farmhouse, a duck was sitting on her nest. Her little ducklings were just about to be hatched, but she was nearly tired of sitting, for it had  lasted a long time. At last one egg after another began to crack. Cheep, cheep, they said. All the  chicks had come to life, and were poking their heads out. How big the world is,  said all the young ones. Do you imagine this is the whole world? Said the mother. It stretches a long way on the other side of the garden, right into the parson’s field. I suppose you Are all here now? And she  got up. No, I declare I have not got you all yet. The biggest egg is still there; how long is it going  to last? And then she settled herself on the nest again. At last the big egg cracked. Cheep, cheep, said the young one and tumbled out; how big and ugly he was. The duck looked at him. That is a monstrous big duckling, she said. None of the others looked like that; can he be a turkey chick? Well, we shall soon see if he swims. So the mother duck with her whole family went down to the water. Splash, into the water she sprang. Quack, quack, she said, and one duckling plumped in after the other. Even the big ugly gray one swam about with them. No, that is no turkey, the mother duck said. See how beautifully he uses his legs and how erect he holds himself; he is my own chick. After all, he is not so bad when you come to look at him properly. Then they went  into the duchyard. Use your legs, said she, mind you quack properly and bend your necks to the old duck there. She is the grandest of  them all . They did as they were bid, but the other  ducks round about looked at them and said, quite loud, Just look there. Now we are to have that tribe, just as if there were not enough of  us already, and, oh dear. How ugly that duckling is. We won’t stand him, and a duck flew near him at once and bit him in the neck. They are handsome children, said the old duck, all good looking except this one. It’s a pity you can’t make him over again. He is not handsome , said the mother duck., but he is a good creature , and he swims as beautifully as the others. She patted  his neck  and stoked him down. Besides, he  is a drake, said she, so it does not matter so much. I believe  he will be very strong, and I don’t doubt but he will make his way in the world. After that they felt quite  at home. But the poor duckling who had been the last to come out of the shell, and who  was  so ugly, was bitten, pushed  about, and made fun of by the ducks and the hens; and the girl who fed them kicked him aside. Matters grew worse and worse. At least  even his mother said, I wish to goodness you were miles away. So he ran off and flew right over  the hedge. Then he came to a great marsh where the wild ducks lived; he was so tired and miserable that he stayed there the whole night. In the morning the wild ducks flew up to inspect their new comrade. What sort of creature are you? They inquired. You are frightfully ugly, but that does not matter to us, so long as you  do not marry into our family. Poor fellow, he had no thought of marriage; all he wanted  was permission to lie among the bushes and drink a little of the marsh water. He stayed there two  whole days. Then he hurried away from the marsh as fast as he could. Toward night he reached a poor little cottage; it was such a miserable hovel that it couldnot make up its mind which way to fall, and so it remained standing. He saw that the door had fallen off one hinge and hung so crookedly that he could creep into the house through the crack, and by this means he made his way into the hut’s one small room. An old woman lived there  with her cat and her hen. In the morning the strange duckling was discovered immediately, and the cat began  to purr and the hen to cluck. They let the duckling sit in the corner, but they had no use for his opinion on any subject. Soon he began  to think of the fresh air and the sunshine; uncontrollable longing seized  him to float on the water, and at last he could not help telling the hen about it. What on earth possesses you? She asked. You have nothing to do ; that is why you get these freaks into your head. Lay some eggs or take to purring, and you will get over it. I think I will go out into the wide world, said the duckling. Oh, do so by all means, said the hen. So away went the duckling. He floated on the water and ducked underneath I, but he was looked at askance by every living creature for his ugliness. Now the autumn came on. One evening, just as the sun was setting in wintry splendor, a flock of beautiful large birds appeared out of the bushes. They were dazingly white swans with long waving necks; uttering a peculiar cry, they spread their magnificent broad wings and flew away from the cold  regions to warmer lands and open seas. The ugly little duckling craned his neck up into the air after them. Then  he uttered  a shriek so piercing and so strange that he was quite frightened by it himself. Oh, he could not forget those beautiful, happy birds. He did not know what they were, but he was more drawn toward them than he had ever been to any creatures before. The winter was so bitterly cold that the duckling was obliged to swim about in the water to keep it from freezing, but every night the hole in which he swam got smaller and smaller; at least he was so weary that he could move no more, and he froze fast into the ice. Early in the morning a peasant came along and saw him; he hammered a hole in the ice with his heavy wooden  shoe, and carried the duckling home to his wife. There he soon revived. The children wanted to play with him, but the duckling was frightened and rushed in his fright into the milk pan, and the milk spattered all over the room. Then he flew into the butter cask, and down into the meal tub and out again. Just imagine what he looked like by this time. The woman screamed and tired to hit him with the tongs, and the children tumbled over one another trying to catch him. By good luck the door stood open, and the duckling flew out among the bushes and new-fallen snow, and lay there exhausted. But it would be too sad to mention all the privation and misery he had to go through during that hard winter. When the sun shone warmly again, the duckling was in the marsh, lying among the rushes. All at once he raiaed his wing, and they flapped with much greater strength than before and bore him off vigorously. Before he knew where he was he found himself in a large garden with a lovely lake. Just in front of him he saw three beautiful swans; with rustling feathers they swam lightly over the water. The duckling recognized the majestic birds, and he was overcome by a strange melancholy. I will fly to them, the royal birds, and they will hack me to pieces, because I am so ugly. Better  be killed by them than snapped by ducks, and pecked at and spurned at by all. So he flew into the water and swam toward the stately swans; they saw him and darted toward him with uffled feathers. Kill me, oh, kill me, said the poor creature, bowing his head toward the water. But what did he see reflected in the clear water? He saw below him his own image, but he was no longer a clumsy , dark gray bird, ugly and ungainly;he was himself a swan. The big swans swam round and round him stroked him with their bills. Soon little children came into the garden with corn and pieces of bread, which they threw into the water, and the smallest one cried out, There is a new on. And they clapped their hands and danced about. The new swan felt quite shy, and hid his head under his wing. He thought of how he had been pursued and scorned , and now he heard  them all say that he was the most beautiful of all beautiful birds. He rustled his feathers and raised his slender neck aloft, saying with exultation in his heart, I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was the Ugly Duckling.