ESSAY FROM A CHILD

Wrote about the stranger in our house...some time back...I guess this is either a prequel or sequel or another "inspired" copy of the same..you decide..but whatever you decide..am sure it does make you really introspect or at least think ;-)...read on:


A teacher from Primary School asks her students to write a essay about what they would like God to do for them...

At the end of the day while marking the essays, she read one that made her very emotional. Her husband, who had just walked in saw her crying and asked her:

- What happened?

She answered :

- Read this. It's one of my student's essays


Oh God, tonight I ask you something very special: Make me into a television. I want to take its place. Live like the TV in my house. Have my own special place, And have my family around ME. To be taken seriously when I talk.... I want to be the centre of attention and be heard without interruptions or questions. I want to receive the same special care that the TV receives when it is not working. Have the company of my dad when he arrives home from work, even when he is tired. And I want my mom to want me when she is sad and upset, instead of ignoring me... And... I want my brothers to fight to be with me... I want to feel that family just leaves everything aside, every now and then, just to spend some time with me. And last but not least make it that I can make them all happy and entertain them...Lord I don't ask you for much... I just want to live like every TV

At that moment the husband said: - 'My God, poor kid. What horrible parents!

She looked up at him and said: - 'That essay is our son's !

The Stranger in our lives:-)

http://www.devilsownparadise.blogspot.com/

Got this from one of the forwards my pop in law sent me..hehe...a lot of them here :-)..what made me put this up was a note written / copy pasted by a friend of mine on FB which I happened to read. Copy paste...wish we could do that with life '''

Well here goes. Let me know how many of you relate to this

A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on.

As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mum taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But the stranger... he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies.

If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem to mind.

Sometimes, Mum would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet.

 (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)

 Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the stranger never felt obligated to honour them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home - not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our long time visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush. My Dad didn't permit the liberal use of alcohol but the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing..

I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked... And NEVER asked to leave.

More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into my parents' den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.

His name?....

We just call him 'TV.'

(Note: This should be required reading for every household!)

He has a wife now....we call her 'Computer.'

Their first child is Cell Phone

Second child is I Pod