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(Quotes) Thought for the day:
1: "The all-seeing eye of the heart if allowed to open will always see love first." (by Joe DiMino)
2: "To disregard the factual, for the ever changing, never duplicating infinity, is life eternal." (by Joe DiMino)
3: "There are no real shadows...just contrasts for exposure." (by Joe DiMino)
4: "To show forgiveness is good...and strive for greater degree knowing all good lives and is magnified in God." (by Joe DiMino)
More: Quotes and thought for the day:
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Through divine destiny the American nation was created. It assembled from all over the earth to make a new world. Moved by irresistible inner power, peoples of adventure, high ambitions and pioneering instincts migrated from the old world to the new, to begin to live again. They left their countries and homes in pursuit of happiness, liberty, equality, enterprise and peace.
The American nation was born, and the world was born again. The American nation was destined to create a new race that must give birth to a New Age, the cradle of physical, mental and spiritual liberty.
Great leaders, animated with the American Spirit, and illumined with the light of faith, justice, integrity and brotherhood answered the call of humanity. They lived and loved the spirit of freedom, equality, goodness and altruism. They believed in the divine right, spiritual liberty and well-being of man to which they consecrated their lives.
Newness of life, religious freedom, liberty, progress and enterprise lived in their hearts, flooded their minds and charged their consciousness, powers that they sought to establish under the sun. They carved a new nation into the human kingdom, a nation to bear the banner of faith in God, religious independence, justice and the individual's divine right to victory.
They denied themselves every comfort to make the American Kingdom a civilization of the ideal--the Christian. Their faith, devotion, trust in the Almighty and conscientious endeavors released the White Flame, the cosmic energy, in their beings. They ignited a celestial fire that no force can quench. They unbridled the celestial flame that leaps eternally in the name of truth, righteousness, and well-being.
They inscribed and witnessed a Constitution based on the spirituality and divine rights of man and directed his consciousness to the Divine within. It was the inspiration and translation of the truth, life, reality and cosmic laws and principals that they turned upon during their heartfelt meditation and cosmic communion with the creator.
A sublime and undying Constitution was born to become the power, standard, law, order and method of the great and greatly destined nation. It was received by their spiritual consciousness, and it registered in their minds, entered their souls, filled their lives, before it was spoken audibly. In the sphere of their intelligences, they transferred principals to laws, and spiritual visions to outer realities, and they established the spiritual foundation for the cosmic structure of a free, practical and idealistic civilization--a civilization of brotherhood and liberty, which they cherished and for which they lived and gave all.
Two charming Christmas stories to read to your children for the holiday.
"The Angel Who Lost Her Tree" by Joe DiMino who retains all rights.
Celeste was a pretty little angel. Everyone in Heaven loved her. She had the most charming wings, and rainbow halo; however, she had the forgetful habit of loosing things. When put in charge of clouds, a responsible position for all the flowers depended on the rain, she seemed to always misplace a few—dropping them between mountains making for foggy valleys; and even when rain fell from the clouds that Celeste was to oversee, several drops never made their way to the ground to nourish the crops in the fields and fruit trees, and no-one could ever find them no matter how where they looked. But she was still loved, for that is Heaven’s way. And God often reminded the other angels, that they must care for one another, just as they care for all the children in the world; watching over them as they sleep, and staying close, protecting them throughout the day while at school and later at play. So God’s response to the angels who thought Celeste was not of the highest rank was to give Celeste a very special responsibility—she would have her own Christmas tree.
Now as you know—or perhaps you don’t know so let me briefly explain: Some pine trees are blessed to be very special trees, with the greatest honor—that of becoming a season’s Christmas tree. They had to be just the right height, and grow no taller, for every family had their prayer order. They had to have just the right shape, and holiday green—with all of winter’s charming pine-fragrance, ultra frosting for just the right gleam. And that was the dilemma—Celeste had gotten separated from her tree.
As you know, or perhaps don’t know, so I will briefly
explain—very briefly, for Christmas is only days away. What
would a tree do without its angel atop? So sad if not one to hear
children’s prayers and wishes; to bless the lights, the silver
tinsel and charming decorations—all made with love, watched
over by Guardians high above. Yes, what would Celeste’s tree
do if the top were bare, without her angel’s care? She was
frantic, and searched the forest, thinking perhaps it had not
yet been cut. She tried the many parking lots and corners, where
trees had gathered—already having been sorted, proudly waiting
to be picked-up by their rightful owners. But Celeste could not
find hers. She began to weep—her tears growing cold and changing
to snow. Of course, though Celeste did not know it at the time,
this was good; the children having all wished for snow on Christmas,
and till then there had not fell a single flake; not one snowball
any child was able to make. Soon the entire city was covered in
Christmas-white—with snow reflecting all the many colored
lights. Celeste grew sadder—which was good, for her tree
heard her weep; and as everyone knows—or perhaps you don’t
know, so I will briefly assure you, that Christmas trees never
sleep. Though you don’t see them, they have ears and eyes
way up above; seeing all and hearing all, ready to respond with
love. Eyes of the many angels are seen as a sky of Christmas lights.
Ears are the countless hosts of Heaven, as many as needed—always
listening, at least two hearing every prayer, applauding every
hymn celebrating Christmas nights. We celebrate Christmas nights
as we do the joyful Eves and Days. The earth blessed by God with
never-ending mirth when our greatest worth acknowledged is that
of Jesus’ holy birth. Celeste’s tree grew ever greener
and brighter—till Celeste could not help but notice such
outpouring of light. Celeste found her tree; and I do believe
it could very well be your tree? “A Merry Christmas to all—and
to all a good night.”
"Poe's Christmas" by Joe DiMino who retains all rights
The family collie, Me-too, was best buddy to Purr-a-lot, the family cat; and they both liked the old raven, Poe—named after a famous poet. Poe had broken his wing, and the Kellys had taken him in, caring for him till it had mended and he was ready again to fly. But Poe decided he would stay; which the Kellys seemed to think a perfectly novel idea. I mean, how many families had a resident raven?—especially one intelligent as Poe who knew exactly how to say “Thank you.” They were a kind family, and did not startle him like other humans. There was Father Carl, Mother Emma, and the two children, 7 year old Sarah and 5 year old Peter. In such a brief time, Poe had become fond of them all—especially Me-Too and Purr-a-lot. And that was Poe’s dilemma. Christmas was tomorrow, and Poe had flown all over the neighborhood trying to find suitable gifts; but the trees were bare, for it was winter, with no fruit to be gathered for a basket. And the flowers had long withered from the cold. Poe wanted so to give Purr-a-lot a red rose for her shinny rhinestone collar. He adored Purr-a-lot, her white fur was always soft and clean, and she would often let him snuggle to keep warm. He thought she must be the fluffiest cat in the entire world. But from him there would be no fruit basket for the Kellys, and no flower for Purr-a-lot’s collar. As for Me-too, Poe had hoped to find him a juicy steak bone. Me-too loved bones—just the mere mention got his tail wagging like a motor. And he had the whitest teeth, and would give you the biggest and brightest dog smile one could imagine—wide enough to make a Raven’s wings happily flutter. But with all the new fangled garbage cans, with those special lids to keep out varmints—what a horrible word he thought—he found them impossible to open—Poe having been in the past always a conscientious recycler when it came to good garbage. Why it would take a master burglar to open one Poe frowned (if you can imagine a Raven’s frown). At times like these he wished he had been born a raccoon, experts at getting in and out of most anything.
He sadly flew to his perch, on a stand alongside the Christmas tree. Everyone had gone to bed, but the lights were left on seeing how it was Christmas Eve and Santa would need to see as he went about his favorite chore—giving. Poe recalled the story Father Carl had told the children before sending them off to bed: He thought of Rudolf leading Santa’s sleigh, full of presents. He thought of the proud deer’s shinny bright nose. What made it glow so? And how could reindeers fly without wings? For all the children to have their special gifts, the ones that could only come from Santa, he thought it must take many trips. He wondered how did Mrs. and Mr. Santa Clause and the elves manage it all?—every year finishing by Christmas Eve, having all the gifts wrapped and ready to deliver. If he had thought of Christmas sooner, he wondered, would he have perhaps found gifts for his friends? Most of all, he thought—perhaps the spirit of giving should be every day of the year, for even the thought made him feel good? He fell asleep and soon dreamed of the angel atop the tree. The angel asked Poe, why so sad? And he explained that he did not have gifts for his friends. She smiled—waved her wand and three more gifts were beneath the tree. She said, little raven wishes are free—and if one dare wish something really big, unselfish and good, perhaps the world will take notice. The children entered the room all excited and thrilled. Poe wondered if he was still asleep?—for the last three gifts opened were: a fruit basket for the Kellys—a rose for Purr-a-lot’s collar—and hugest bone one could image for Me-too. Oh—and there was another gift Poe had not seen, hidden behind the others. With the warmest smile, it was handed to him by Emma. Poe used his beak to pull off the ribbon…and then with the help of his long toes hastened to separate the paper. It was a ring of seeds, a gift he wanted but with all the worry had forgotten to ask of the angel something for himself. Poe looked up, and there was the angel atop the tree—glittering—and most would think, though lovely, only a proper ornament. However Poe knew different. While wanting to say more, he knew only how to say—Thank you. So he did just that, said “Thank you”; but the angel, he sensed, knew everything else that was in his heart.
(A thought for Christian Grade-School teachers: these would
make lovely stories for your children to illustrate and then make
into a book let as a class project for the holidays--have each
child sign his or her name on their drawing. If you wish to do
this, you have my permission. Joe DiMino/author)
Comments are welcomed:
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