Often We Look So Long At The

The Hands Of Those I Meet Are Dumbly Eloquent To Me. The Touch Of Some Hands Is An Impertinence. I Have Met People So Empty Of Joy, That When I Clasped Their Frosty Finger-tips, It Seemed As If I Were Shaking Hands With A Northeast Storm. Others There Are Whose Hands Have Sunbeams In Them, So That Their Grasp Warms My Heart. It May Be Only The Clinging Touch Of A Child's Hand; But There Is As Much Potential Sunshine In It For Me As There Is In A Loving Glance For Others. A Hearty Handshake Or A Friendly Letter Gives Me Genuine Pleasure.

To Me A Lush Carpet Of Pine Needles Or Spongy Grass Is More Welcome Than The Most Luxurious Persian Rug.

Change May Be The Vitalizing Wind Blowing Through The House Of Life, But It Is Not An Abiding Force. We Need Permanent Things To Soak Peace Into Us As Well As Progress - The Beauty Of The Earth, Seedtime And Harvest, The Smiles Of Lovers, The Joy Of The Young In Being Alive, Pride In Craftsmanship. Why, Oh Why Must We Let Ourselves Forget These Lasting Treasures In An Age Of Consuming Ambition, Speed Madness And Accumulated Goods That Leave Us No Chance To Live? If We Cannot Be Contented With A Little No Wealth Will Ever Satisfy Us.

When One Door Of Hapiness Closes, Another Opens.

Often We Look So Long At The Closed Door That We Do Not See The One That Has Been Opened For Us.