verhalen

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0 height="100%"><tr> <td valign="top" width=145 BGCOLOR="#3366CC" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="05bca2c3.jpg"> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="05bca2c3.jpg"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#6666FF" FACE="Arial" ><B>Palomino</B></FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#663399" FACE="Times New Roman" >    </FONT> |    <B> </B><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000BF" FACE="Times New Roman" ><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Palomino"><U><B>home</B></U></A></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id17.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Algemeen"><U>Algemeen</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Indianen"><U>Indianen</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id19.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Dieren"><U>Dieren</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id20.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Gedichten"><U>Gedichten</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id23.htm" TARGET="_top" 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ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></div> <div> Moeders</div> <bR> <div> "Waarom huil je Mama?"</div> <div> vroeg een jongetje aan zijn moeder.</div> <div> "Omdat ik een vrouw ben."</div> <div> antwoordde zij.</div> <div> "Ik begrijp het niet."</div> <div> zei het jongetje weer.</div> <div> Zijn moeder knuffelde hem en zei met een vage lach:</div> <div> "En dat zul je ook nooit doen lieve kind, maar dat maakt niet uit."</div> <bR> <div> Later vroeg de kleine jongen aan zijn vader:</div> <div> "Papa, waarom huilt Mama zomaar zonder reden?"</div> <div> Zijn vader kon alleen maar antwoorden:</div> <div> "Alle vrouwen huilen zonder reden."</div> <bR> <div> De kleine jongen groeide op en werd een jonge man,</div> <div> zich nog steeds afvragend,</div> <div> waarom vrouwen huilen.</div> <bR> <div> Uiteindelijk riep hij de hulp in van God en vroeg ook Hem:</div> <div> "God, waarom huilen vrouwen?"</div> <div> God antwoordde het volgende:</div> <bR> <div> "Toen ik de vrouw schiep,</div> <div> besloot ik dat ze speciaal moest zijn.</div> <div> Ik gaf haar schouders,</div> <div> sterk genoeg om het leed van de wereld te dragen,</div> <div> maar ook zachte armen om comfort te bieden.</div> <bR> <div> Ik gaf haar innerlijke kracht om,</div> <div> bevallingen te doorstaan en om tegen afwijzing te kunnen,</div> <div> welke zij vaak zou gaan krijgen,</div> <div> soms zelfs van haar eigen kinderen.</div> <bR> <div> Ik gaf haar de hardheid,</div> <div> het doorzettingsvermogen om voor haar vrienden en familie</div> <div> te kunnen zorgen,</div> <div> zelfs wanneer iedereen het opgeeft.</div> <bR> <div> Zelfs ziekte en vermoeidheid houden haar dan niet tegen,</div> <div> en zij klaagt nooit....</div> <div> Ik gaf haar gevoeligheid,</div> <div> zodat zij haar kinderen lief zal hebben,</div> <div> onder welke omstandigheid dan ook.</div> <bR> <div> Zelfs wanneer haar eigen kind haar pijn heeft gedaan.</div> <div> Ze heeft een speciale gave om kinderen weer te doen lachen,</div> <div> om tieners te helpen met hun twijfels en angsten.</div> <bR> <div> Ik gaf haar de kracht om voor haar man te zorgen,</div> <div> ondanks zijn fouten en ik fabriceerde haar uit een rib</div> <div> van hem om zijn hart te beschermen.</div> <bR> <div> Ik gaf haar de wijsheid,</div> <div> om te weten dat een goede echtgenoot zijn vrouw nooit pijn zou doen,</div> <div> maar dat hij haar soms test op haar kracht.</div> <div> En ook om haar man bij te staan,</div> <div> door dik en dun.</div> <bR> <div> Voor al dit harde werk,</div> <div> gaf ik haar ook een traan om te laten.</div> <bR> <div> Het is van haar,</div> <div> zij kan het gebruiken wanneer zij dat nodig heeft.</div> <bR> <div> Het is haar enige zwakte.....</div> <div> Wanneer je haar ziet huilen,</div> <div> zeg haar dan hoeveel je van haar houdt,</div> <div> en hoe goed de dingen zijn die zij voor anderen doet.</div> <div> En alhoewel ze dan nog steeds huilt,</div> <div> weet dan dat ze zich wel degelijk iets beter voelt.</div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="d4f9f380.jpg" border=0 width="415" height="312" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> The Importance of Time </div> <bR> <div> A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door. It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him. </div> <bR> <div> Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr.. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." </div> <bR> <div> Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days. </div> <bR> <div> "Jack, did you hear me?" </div> <bR> <div> "Oh sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said. </div> <bR> <div> "Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him. </div> <bR> <div> "I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said. </div> <bR> <div> "You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said. </div> <bR> <div> "He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important... Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said. </div> <bR> <div> As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away. </div> <bR> <div> The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. </div> <bR> <div> Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture.... Jack stopped suddenly. </div> <bR> <div> What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked. </div> <bR> <div> "The box is gone," he said. </div> <bR> <div> "What box?" Mom asked. </div> <bR> <div> "There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most, '" Jack said. It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it,</div> <div> except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it. </div> <bR> <div> "Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom." </div> <bR> <div> It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read. </div> <bR> <div> Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read. </div> <bR> <div> Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside. "Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. </div> <bR> <div> Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser." </div> <bR> <div> "The thing he valued most...was...my time." </div> <bR> <div> Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked. </div> <bR> <div> "I need some time to spend with my son," he said. "Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!" </div> <bR> <div> "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away." </div> <bR> <div> Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true. </div> <bR> <div> 1. At least 2 people in this world love you so much they would die for you. </div> <bR> <div> 2. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way. </div> <bR> <div> 3. A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you. </div> <bR> <div> 4. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep. </div> <div> 5. You mean the world to someone. </div> <bR> <div> 6. If not for you, someone may not be living. </div> <bR> <div> 7. You are special and unique. </div> <bR> <div> 8. When you think you have no chance of getting what you want, you probably won't get it, but if you trust God to do what's best, and wait on His time, sooner or later, you will get it or something better. </div> <bR> <div> 9. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good can still come from it. </div> <bR> <div> 10. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look: you most likely turned your back on the world. </div> <bR> <div> 11. Someone that you don't even know exists, loves you. </div> <bR> <div> 12. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks. </div> <bR> <div> 13. Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better when they know and you'll both be happy. </div> <bR> <div> 14. If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great. </div> <div> <IMG SRC="113025210.gif" border=0 width="293" height="289" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> <IMG SRC="115373e60.gif" border=0 width="371" height="230" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> <B>It is rewarding to find someone you like, but it is essential to like yourself. It is quickening to recognize that someone is a good and decent human being, but it is indispensable to view yourself as acceptable.</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>It is a delight to discover people who are worthy of respect and admiration and love, but it is vital to believe yourself deserving of these things.</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>For you cannot live in someone else. You cannot find yourself in someone else. You cannot be given a life by someone else. Of all the people you will know in a lifetime, you are the only one you will never leave or lose.</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>To the question of your life, you are the only answer. To the problems of your life, you are the only solution.</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>Jo Coudert </B></div> <div> <B>American Author</B></div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <IMG SRC="115486630.gif" border=0 width="134" height="99" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>Handen</B></div> <bR> <div> door Hilde van Putten</div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="1149c6040.jpg" border=0 width="198" height="260" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> Je kunt er alles mee.</div> <div> Je steekt ze uit de mouwen.</div> <div> Je geeft ze en schudt ze.</div> <div> Je kunt er handelingen mee verichten,</div> <div> ze naar alle kanten bewegen.</div> <div> Dat is een wonder waar je je niet genoeg</div> <div> kunt over verbazen.</div> <bR> <div> Handen zijn het verlengstuk van het hart.</div> <div> Ze laten zien wat er leeft in je wezen.</div> <div> Slaan en strelen,</div> <div> naar je toehalen en afweren.</div> <div> Samenballen tot een vuist,</div> <div> openen tot een zegen.</div> <div> Je kunt ze wuivend,</div> <div> juichend de hoogte insteken</div> <div> of radeloos wanhopig</div> <div> mee in je haren zitten.</div> <bR> <div> Handen onderlijnen je woorden,</div> <div> zetten je boodschap kracht bij.</div> <div> Bruut of kwetsend,</div> <div> fijngevoelig of subtiel.</div> <bR> <div> Handen heb je ook in soorten.</div> <div> Fijne, zachte, warme, koude,</div> <div> zwetende en ruw gebouwde.</div> <div> Zoveel als er mensen zijn laten</div> <div> handen je dus van alles zien.</div> <div> Vergeet daarom niet</div> <div> -op tijd en stond-</div> <div> je handen te bekijken en te zien:</div> <div> wat verbergen mijn handen</div> <div> aan moois misschien?</div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="114ad4960.jpg" border=0 width="212" height="150" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> Family</div> <bR> <div> I ran into a stranger as he passed by, "Oh excuse me please" was my reply. He said, "Please excuse me too; I wasn't watching for you." We were very polite, this stranger and I. We went on our way and we said good-bye. </div> <bR> <div> But at home a different story is told, How we treat our loved ones, young and old. Later that day, cooking the evening meal, My son stood beside me very still. When I turned, I nearly knocked him down. "Move out of the way," I said with a frown. He walked away, his little heart broken. I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken. </div> <bR> <div> While I lay awake in bed, God's still small voice came to me and said, "While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use, but the children you love, you seem to abuse. Go and look on the kitchen floor, You'll find some flowers there by the door. Those are the flowers he brought for you. He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue. He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise, you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes." </div> <bR> <div> By this time, I felt very small, And now my tears began to fall. I quietly went and knelt by his bed; "Wake up, little one, wake up," I said. "Are these the flowers you picked for me?" He smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree. I picked 'em because they're pretty like you. I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue." I said, "Son, I'm very sorry for the way I acted today; I shouldn't have yelled at you that way." He said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay. I love you anyway." I said, "Son, I love you too, and I do like the flowers, especially the blue." </div> <bR> <div> FAMILY Are you aware that if we died tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family we left behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than into our own family, an unwise investment indeed, don't you think? So what is behind the story? </div> <div> Do you know what the word FAMILY means? </div> <div> FAMILY = (F)ATHER (A)ND (M)OTHER (I) (L)OVE (Y)OU</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <IMG SRC="ecf96d70.gif" border=0 width="150" height="215" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> The Invisible Letter </div> <bR> <div> Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the </div> <div> operating room. She said: "How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? </div> <div> When can I see him?" </div> <bR> <div> The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it." </div> <bR> <div> Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care anymore? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?" </div> <bR> <div> The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son? One </div> <div> of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the </div> <div> University." </div> <bR> <div> Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said goodbye to her son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair. </div> <bR> <div> "Would you like a lock of his hair?" the nurse asked. Sally nodded yes. </div> <div> The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed </div> <div> it to Sally. </div> <bR> <div> The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University </div> <div> for Study. He said it might help somebody else. "I said no at first, but </div> <div> Jimmy said, "Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some </div> <div> other little boy spend one more day with his Mom." She went on, "My </div> <div> Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could." </div> <bR> <div> Sally walked out of Children's mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. </div> <bR> <div> She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room. She started placing the model cars and other personal things, back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep. </div> <bR> <div> It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Lying beside her on the bed was a folded letter.. The letter said: </div> <bR> <div> Dear Mom, </div> <bR> <div> I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, </div> <div> or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say I LOVE YOU. I </div> <div> will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room, and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, y'know. </div> <bR> <div> Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. </div> <bR> <div> Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you goodbye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, y'know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him - </div> <bR> <div> 'Where was He when I needed him?' </div> <bR> <div> God said, He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children. </div> <bR> <div> Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. </div> <bR> <div> Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, I don't hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore ... and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. </div> <bR> <div> That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was Special Delivery! How about that? </div> <bR> <div> Signed with Love from: </div> <bR> <div> God, Jesus & Me.                                 </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <IMG SRC="ecec82c0.jpg" border=0 width="200" height="300" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="c7cd62e0.jpg" border=0 width="214" height="302" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> <TABLE BORDER="0" CELLPADDING="1" CELLSPACING="1" WIDTH="626" BORDERCOLORLIGHT="#C0C0C0" BORDERCOLORDARK="#808080" FRAME="VOID" RULES="NONE" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" > <tR> <tD VALIGN=CENTER HEIGHT= 2037 ><NOBR><div> Hoe oud ben jij ?</div> <bR> <div> Indien jij ook opgroeide als kind in de jaren </div> <div> 20 30 40 50 60 of 70, is het</div> <div> nauwelijks te geloven dat wij reeds zolang hebben geleefd .</div> <bR> <div> Als kind reden we mee in wagens zonder veiligheidsgordels</div> <div>  of air bags ...</div> <bR> <div> Onze bedden waren geschilderd in vrolijk gekleurde - </div> <div> op lood gebaseerde - verven ...</div> <bR> <div> We hadden geen kind-veilige afsluitingen op geneesmiddelen, </div> <div> deuren of kasten, </div> <bR> <div> en wanneer we met onze fiets reden deden we </div> <div> dat zonder helm .</div> <bR> <div> We dronken water van de tuinslang en niet uit een fles - </div> <div> verschrikkelijk!</div> <bR> <div> We brachten uren door in het monteren van een go-cart uit </div> <div> rommel en reden dan van een helling af om enkel tijdens </div> <div> de afdaling vast te stellen dat we de remmen vergaten.</div> <div>  Na enkele keren in de struiken te zijn beland</div> <div> bedachten we een oplossing.</div> <bR> <div> We experimenteerden met het uit een halen en </div> <div> opnieuw in elkaar steken van radio's en </div> <div> andere electrische toestellen om enkel te worden verraden</div> <div> door de zwart geblakerde muur boven het stopcontact dat </div> <div> we een kortsluiting hadden veroorzaakt.</div> <bR> <div> We gingen 's morgens van huis en speelden de ganse dag, </div> <div> zo lang we er maar voor zorgden terug thuis te zijn </div> <div> bij valavond. </div> <div> Niemand kon ons de gansedag bereiken. </div> <div> Geen GSM's. Onvoorstelbaar !</div> <bR> <div> We sneden ons en braken botten en tanden, </div> <div> nochtans gaf dit geen aanleiding  tot rechtszaken. </div> <div> Het waren ongevallen. Niemand viel iets te verwijten,</div> <div> behalve onszelf. Herinner je nog je "ongevallen" ?</div> <bR> <div> We vochten en sloegen elkaar bont en blauw en </div> <div> leerden daarmee om te gaan.</div> <bR> <div> We aten snoepgoed, brood en boter en dronken frisdrank, </div> <div> maar we hadden nooit overgewicht ... </div> <div> we waren altijd buiten aan het spelen.</div> <bR> <div> We deelden onze drank door samen van dezelfde fles te </div> <div> drinken en niemand is hier ooit van overleden.</div> <bR> <div> We hadden geen Playstations, Nintendo 64, X-Boxes, </div> <div> video spelletjes, 40 televisiezenders, video, surround sound,</div> <div>  GSM, P.C., internet chat roomsetc. ... we hadden vrienden.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> We gingen naar buiten en maakten vrienden. </div> <div> We reden op onze fiets of wandelde naar een vriend thuis, </div> <div> belden aan of gingen zelfs gewoon via</div> <div> de achterdeur naar binnen. Stel je dit voor. </div> <div> Zonder de ouders hier eerst om te vragen ! </div> <div> Helemaal alleen ! Helemaal alleen in die koude</div> <div> afgrijselijke wereld ! </div> <div> Zonder een oppasser - hoe deden we het toch?</div> <bR> <div> We vonden spelletjes uit met stokken en tennisballen en - </div> <div> hoewel we ervoor werden gewaarschuwd - </div> <div> niemand verloor een oog.</div> <bR> <div> Niet iedereen mocht mee voetballen, en diegene die geen </div> <div> team vonden moesten leren omgaan met ontgoocheling .</div> <bR> <div> Onze daden waren die van onszelf. Gevolgen werden </div> <div> verwacht. </div> <div> Niemand of niets om zich achter te verbergen. </div> <div> De idee van een ouder die ons  verdedigden </div> <div> indien we de wet overtraden, was ongekend. </div> <div> Ze steunden zelfs de wet - stel je dat voor !</div> <bR> <div> Niettegenstaande hun ongeziene gevaarlijke jeugd, </div> <div> hebben bovenvermelde generaties de beste risico-nemers, </div> <div> probleem-oplossers en ontdekkersooit voortgebracht. </div> <div> De voorbije 50 jaar heeft een explosie gekend aan</div> <div> innovaties en nieuwe ideeën. </div> <div> We kenden vrijheid, mislukking, succes en</div> <div> verantwoordelijkheid en leerden hiermee om te gaan.</div> <bR> <div> Indien jij één van hen bent ... gefeliciteerd ! </div> <div> En geef dit door aan anderen die eveneens het </div> <div> geluk hadden op te groeien als een kind, nog</div> <div> voor advocaten en overheidsinstanties </div> <div> ons leven conditioneerden</div> </NOBR></tD> </tR> </TABLE></div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="acd80000.jpg" border=0 width="384" height="256" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> <B>De logica van de Nederlandse taal</B></div> <bR> <div> Het meervoud van slot is sloten, </div> <div> maar toch is het meervoud van pot geen poten. </div> <div> Evenzo zegt men altijd één vat en twee vaten, </div> <div> maar zal men zeggen: één kat, twee katen? </div> <div> Wie gisteren ging vliegen zegt heden ik vloog, </div> <div> dus zegt u nisschien van wiegen: ik woog. </div> <div> Nee, pardon, want ik woog is afkomstig van wegen, </div> <div> maar is nu ik voog een vervoeging van vegen? </div> <div> Het woord zoeken vervoegt men tot ik zocht; </div> <div> dus hoort bij vloeken misschien ik vlocht. </div> <div> Alweer mis, want dit is juist afkomstig van vlechten, </div> <div> maar ik hocht is geen juiste vervoeging van hechten. </div> <div> Bij roepen hoort riep, maar bij snoepen geen sniep; </div> <div> bij lopen hoort liep, maar bij kopen geen kiep. </div> <div> Evenmin hoort bij slopen ik sliep. </div> <div> Want dat woord is afkomstig van het schone woord slapen: </div> <div> maar zet nu niet neer: ik riep bij het rapen. </div> <div> Want dit komt van roepen en u ziet het terstond, </div> <div> zo draaien wij vrolijk in het kringetje rond. </div> <div> Voor raden komt ried, maar van baden geen bied: </div> <div> dat komt weer van bieden, ik hoop dat u 't ziet. </div> <div> Ook komt hiervan bood, maar van wieden geen wood; </div> <div> u ziet de verwarring is akelig groot. </div> <div> Nog talloos veel voorbeelden kan ik u geven, </div> <div> want gaf hoort bij geven, maar laf niet bij leven. </div> <div> Men spreekt van wij drinken, wij hebben gedronken, </div> <div> maar niet van wij hinken en hebben gehonken. </div> <div> 't Is: ik weet en ik wist, </div> <div> maar schrijft u niet bij vergeten vergist. </div> <div> Het volgende greview is bijna te bont, </div> <div> want bij slaan hoort ik sloeg, niet ik sling of ik slond. </div> <div> Bij gaan hoort ik ging en niet ik gong of ik gond. </div> <div> En noemt men een mannetjesrat soms een rater? </div> <div> Nee, dat gaat alleen op bij een kat en een kater. </div> <bR> <div> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div> <bR> <div> A butterfly's struggle</div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="5559b270.gif" border=0 width="411" height="295" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> A Butterfly . </div> <div> A man found a cocoon for a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared, he sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through the little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could and could go no farther. Then the man decided to help the butterfly. </div> <bR> <div> He took a pair of scissors and snipped the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily. Something was strange. The butterfly had a swollen body and shriveled wings. The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time. Neither happened. In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and deformed wings. It was never able to fly.</div> <div>  </div> <div> What the man in his kindness and haste did not understand, was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the smallopening of the cocoon are God`s way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon. Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. </div> <bR> <div> If God allowed us to go throughall our life without any obstacles, that would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. Not only that, we could never fly. </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="12ced9790.gif" border=0 width="217" height="121" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> <B>The Curtain Rods </B></div> <bR> <div> She spent the first day packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases. </div> <bR> <div> On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things. </div> <bR> <div> On the third day she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candlelight, put on some soft background music and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar and a bottle of Chardonnay. </div> <bR> <div> When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimp dippied in caviar, into the hollow of the curtain rods. </div> <div> She then cleaned up the kitchen and left. </div> <bR> <div> When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days. Then slowly the house began to smell. </div> <bR> <div> Vents were checked for dead rodents and carpets were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which time they had to move out for a few days and in the end they even paid to replace the expensive wool carpeting. </div> <bR> <div> Mptjomg worked. People stooped coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The maid quit. </div> <bR> <div> Finally, they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move. </div> <div> A month later even though they had cut their price in half they could not find a buyer for their stinky house. Work got out and eventually even the local realtors refused to return their calls. </div> <bR> <div> Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place. </div> <bR> <div> The ex-wife called the man and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said that she missed her old home terribly, and would her ex be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back. </div> <bR> <div> Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on a price that was about 1/10th of what the house had been worth but only if she were to sign the papers that very day. </div> <bR> <div> She agreed and within the hour, his lawyers delivered the paperwork. </div> <div> A week later, the man and his girlfiend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to the new home --including the curtain rods. </div> <bR> <div> I love a happy ending don't you. </div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="12cfa43b0.jpg" border=0 width="420" height="315" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id59.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Verhalen 2"><U>Next--></U></A></div> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>