eBooks „comfort“
299 eBooks were found for the search term „comfort“.
Susan Davis
PREPARE THE WAY - 2018
LETTERS FROM GOD, VOLUME IX* YEAR 2018
- Religion
- English
- 51929 Words
- No Age Recommendation
- 97
- 1
In 2010, GOD allowed me to hear HIS voice and HE began to use me to put out HIS messages. This is a collection of short letters I received for others during the year 2018. GOD bless and may HIS Words comfort and prepare you for HIS Coming... Susan Davis
Prepare the Way for The LORD. This is a collection of divine letters from our LORD and SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST. These are letters of warning for all the children of GOD. To prepare for the kingdom of GOD is at hand, HE wants us to understand HIS requirements to be under HIS good grace. To have a garment that is free from stains, spots, and wrinkles.
These letters also give the reader insight into the personality and mind of GOD. It reveals the true intentions of GOD for HIS children: which is to give them life. For HIS word is the way, the truth, and the life. To seek HIM in intimacy and to know HIM for real not just knowing about HIM, but to know HIM truely. This collection of letters will help you distinguish those things that are an abomination in GOD'S eyes.
This collection of letters will enlighten you to see the seriousness of the hour you live in and convict to take an inventory of your life. You must take your end destination seriously, because your enternity is in the balance. These letters give you the spiritual meat you so need. The letters give you a clear understanding of the times your living in, and once you make that descision GOD will give you a spirit of clear thinking so that you may live out your life in HIS perfect will for it, there is no other way, there are no other answers, this is what HE requires and those who think differently will be left behind: to face the worst, to face his enemy, to face the antichrist, and to face HIS wrath.
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FREE Resources on Intimacy with GOD and the End Times:
http://marriagesupper.wix.com/endtimescatalog [more]
Keywords: GOD, JESUS CHRIST, HOLY SPIRIT, Christianity, Baptism, Bible, Church, Heaven, Hell, Rapture, Tribulation, End Times, Prophecy, Eternity, Word of GOD, Religion, Holiness, Spirituality, Millennium, New Jerusalem, Salvation [more]
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Horatio Alger
Randy Of The River (Illustrated)
- Fiction
- English
- 50945 Words
- Ages 10 and up
- 180
"I am going fishing, Randy. Do you want to go along?"
"With pleasure, Jack," answered Randy Thompson, a bright, manly youth of fourteen. "Are you going on foot or in your boat?"
"I think we might as well take the boat," returned Jack Bartlett, a boy who was but a few months older than Randy. "Have you your lines handy?"
"No, but I can get them in less than ten minutes."
"All right. Meet me at the dock in quarter of an hour. I was thinking of going up the river to Landy's Hole. That's a good spot, isn't it?"
"I think so. Last season I was up there and caught fourteen good-sized fish."
"They tell me you are one of the best fishermen in Riverport, Randy," went on Jack Bartlett, admiringly. "What is the secret of your success?"
"I don't know unless it is patience," answered Randy, with a broad smile. "To catch fish you must be patient. Now when I caught my mess of fourteen two other boys were up to the Hole. But just because the fish did not bite right away they moved away, further up the river. But by doing that they got only about half as many as myself."
"Well, I am willing to be patient if I know I am going to catch something."
At this Randy laughed outright.
"You can't be sure of anything-in fishing. But I always reckon it's a good thing to hold on and give a thing a fair trial."
"I reckon you're right, Randy, and I'll give the fishing a fair trial to-day," answered Jack Bartlett. "Remember, the dock in quarter of an hour," he added, as he moved away.
Horatio Alger, Jr. (January 13, 1832 – July 18, 1899) was a prolific 19th-century American author, best known for his many juvenile novels about impoverished boys and their rise from humble backgrounds to lives of middle-class security and comfort through hard work, determination, courage, and honesty. His writings were characterized by the "rags-to-riches" narrative, which had a formative effect on America during the Gilded Age. Alger's name is often invoked incorrectly as though he himself rose from rags to riches, but that arc applied to his characters, not to the author. Essentially, all of Alger's novels share the same theme: a young boy struggles through hard work to escape poverty. Critics, however, are quick to point out that it is not the hard work itself that rescues the boy from his fate, but rather some extraordinary act of bravery or honesty, which brings him into contact with a wealthy elder gentleman, who takes the boy in as a ward. The boy might return a large sum of money that was lost or rescue someone from an overturned carriage, bringing the boy—and his plight—to the attention of some wealthy individual. It has been suggested that this reflects Alger's own patronizing attitude to the boys he tried to help. [more]
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Horatio Alger
The Tin Box (Illustrated)
- Fiction
- English
- 52660 Words
- Ages 10 and up
- 122
"Have you finished breakfast already, Harry?" asked Mrs. Gilbert, as Harry rose hurriedly from the table and reached for his hat, which hung on a nail especially appropriated to it.
"Yes, mother. I don't want to be late for the store. Saturday is always a busy day."
"It is a long day for you, Harry. You have to stay till nine o'clock in the evening."
"I am always glad to have Saturday come, for then I can get my money," replied Harry, laughing. "Well, good-by, mother-I'm off."
"What should I do without him?" said Mrs. Gilbert to herself, as Harry dashed out of the yard on the way to Mead's grocery store, where he had been employed for six months.
That would have been a difficult question to answer. Mrs. Gilbert was the widow of a sea captain, who had sailed from the port of Boston three years before, and never since been heard of.
It was supposed that the vessel was lost with all hands, but how the disaster occurred, or when, was a mystery that seemed never likely to be solved.
Captain Gilbert had left no property except the small cottage, which was mortgaged for half its value, and a small sum of money in the savings bank, which, by this time, was all expended for the necessaries of life.
Fortunately for the widow, about the time this sum gave out Harry obtained a situation at Mead's grocery store, with a salary of four dollars a week. This he regularly paid to his mother, and, with the little she herself was able to earn, they lived comfortably. It was hard work for Harry, but he enjoyed it, for he was an active boy, and it was a source of great satisfaction to him that he was able to help his mother so materially.
Horatio Alger, Jr. (January 13, 1832 – July 18, 1899) was a prolific 19th-century American author, best known for his many juvenile novels about impoverished boys and their rise from humble backgrounds to lives of middle-class security and comfort through hard work, determination, courage, and honesty. His writings were characterized by the "rags-to-riches" narrative, which had a formative effect on America during the Gilded Age. Alger's name is often invoked incorrectly as though he himself rose from rags to riches, but that arc applied to his characters, not to the author. Essentially, all of Alger's novels share the same theme: a young boy struggles through hard work to escape poverty. Critics, however, are quick to point out that it is not the hard work itself that rescues the boy from his fate, but rather some extraordinary act of bravery or honesty, which brings him into contact with a wealthy elder gentleman, who takes the boy in as a ward. The boy might return a large sum of money that was lost or rescue someone from an overturned carriage, bringing the boy—and his plight—to the attention of some wealthy individual. It has been suggested that this reflects Alger's own patronizing attitude to the boys he tried to help. [more]
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Godspower Elishason
Loose Weight While You Eat
To Help You Lose Weight And Live Healthy
- Health & Fitness
- English
- 15935 Words
- Ages 3 and up
- 256
Winning The Losing Weight Game Are you more or less constantly thinking about your weight, or whether you’re eating or not eating? Do you find that at times when you start eating that you just can’t stop yourself? And then when your clothes don’t fit do you decide to resolve that by eating more? Often as a consequence of this common behaviour is that you will feel bad about yourself and imagine that everyone is thinking how big you are, thus increasing your anxiety about your eating and image, so that you eat more to comfort yourself. You might not believe it yet there are steps you can take to get you out this self-destructive cycle and turn around the negative feelings that you experience. When we are in these ‘mind-traps’ we are habitually repeating thought patterns and acting on them without questioning where they come from and what they do for us. A simple question such as: ‘What will that do for me?’ can often be the beginning of understanding ourselves better and our behaviour. Approaching the problem in this way can be the first step towards doing things differently. It works like this: a bad experience gives you the urge to go to the biscuit tin and eat as many biscuits as you can. But this time, instead of binging on biscuits, ask yourself: ‘What will that do for me?’ If the answer is something like ‘It gives me a treat,’ ask yourself: ‘And if I have this treat, what does that do for me?; Again, wait for your answer, it may be something like, ‘If I have this treat then I will feel appreciated.’ If this is your response carry on and ask yourself: ‘If I get to feel appreciated, what does that do for me?’ Listen for an answer and keep asking yourself the same question, until you can go no further with your responses. What you’re looking for is the higher motivation behind the behaviour ‘eating too many biscuits’. By doing this on a regular basis you will get in touch with what you really want and take your first step to controlling the food cravings. This book will guide you to total recovery. And we have tried to give you an easy to follow guide that will help you loose weight. Below are some of the highlights: What you need to know about weight loss The hidden benefits of losing weight Foods to avoid if you must lose weight Compulsory steps to a healthy weight loss Success strategies to weight loss Eating the right food to lose weight Understanding the basics of fat burning Categories of foods that burns fats Dealing with the cravings for sugar The place of exercise in weight loss What to do when you just can’t lose weight Bible scriptures concerning weight loss Daily weight loss affirmations The place of fasting for weight loss And lots more! [more]
Keywords: weight, weight loss, fat, exercise, slim, slimming, eating, burning of fat, fitness, training, gym, weight loss diet plan, natural weight loss diet, weight loss diet exercise, wight loss diet supplement, herbal supplement, grapes, best weight loss diet, weight loss diet program, weight loss diet nutrition [more]
$2.49
Gary Adam, Gary Adam
The Gray Serial Killer Book One
Horror
- Horror
- English
- 142846 Words
- Ages 18 and up
Are you all right?” An arm reaches out and grabs me firmly. I squint as an overhead light shines too bright in my face. A sense of dread washes over me; I have no idea why. My body tenses at the touch. I try to pull away, but I can’t move the way I want. It feels like I’m fighting my way through mud, thick and heavy, weighing me down. The voice calls out again, I think it’s a woman’s. I turn my head to the side and force my eyes to open, blinking slowly. A face hovers over me, their features blurred. “What?” I croak. The voice that comes out of my mouth doesn’t sound like mine. The voice doesn’t respond. Something drapes over my shoulders, and a figure walks in front of me and drops to their knee. It is a woman. I can see her face now. I can see the color of her eyes, a deep, dark brown that begs me to find comfort in them, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. I try to focus on her face. She has thick brows and a crooked nose, broad and covered in freckles. Focus. Focus, I try to tell myself before a high-pitched ringing tears through my eardrums.
“Are you okay?” Her voice is quiet, as if she’s trying not to break me with her words. I want to nod. I can’t comprehend why she’s looking at me like this, where I am, why I’m wrapped in a rough cotton blanket, why I’m so cold. I scrutinize my surroundings as my head clears, and I try my hardest to remember. How did I get on the ground? Rows of shiny, plastic-wrapped snacks fill my line of sight, and a long fluorescent tube-lamp above me swings back and forth. I think I’m in a gas station. I wipe my face with my arm and glance down. Is this my arm? Every part of me feels unfamiliar. I shake my head, trying to collect myself. “I’m okay,” I slur, realizing that she’s staring down at me with that searching expression. Squinting, I focus on the mass of blue and brass before me as she gets to her feet. “Why are you here?” I ask her, trying to take another glance around the room. I must have missed something. Something important. She puts her hands under my arms, hauling me to my feet. She’s stronger than I expected. My knees falter as I attempt to straighten my body. I stop struggling as she gently shushes me and lowers me back to the ground. It’s cold. Please don’t vomit on this nice lady. Her voice is soft but firm. “What’s your name?” [more]
Keywords: Horror Crime Thriller
$5.49
Charles E.J. Moulton
the haunted kingdom
Shadows of the Realm
- Fantasy
- English
- 144389 Words
- No Age Recommendation
- 4395
- 33
PROLOGUE: The blood brothers St. Lucifer and St. Michael are created out of one falling star. Lucifer cannot handle sharing his glory with eleven brethren and is excommunicated from heaven for playing creator. As revenge, he corrupts God’s first village and its original woman Rebecca, whose husband Joseph remains steadfast and faithful. God creates an alternate reality, but Lucifer infiltrates it with Rebecca’s reincarnation Lucinda as a good king’s exiled sister.
BOOK ONE: 15th century King Alexander III of Prosperania returns home after a trip abroad to find his family quarreling, his country attacked. Preparing for an international alliance and for the wedding of his daughter Belinda to her Prince Steven, he is haunted by old enemies, Belinda finds comfort in love and religion. The wedding is a success, up until the last day of feasting, when the king’s exiled sister Lucinda returns, sent by Prosperania’s archrival King Adnicul I of Nocturnia. She curses the country with three plagues. Shaken, the newlyweds go on their honeymoon. Belinda returns pregnant. Their son Alfred is born. A stranger, Nomed Snekawa, enters the land and becomes a man for all seasons. To cure an epidemic, Nomed produces a herbal cure that puts the palace in a deep sleep on September 23rd 1425. Nomed is Lucinda and the palace is now cursed, becoming a sleeping beauty.
BOOK TWO: When the court awakes, Nomed is gone. Savage war, perverse scandal, sickness and death then haunt the land, finally leaving Alexander alone and desperate as the only inhabitant in the haunted kingdom. But Belinda reappears, claiming that this world is Lucinda’s illusion to trap him and that the family members are all actually asleep, poisoned by Nomed and caught in hell in a time trap. Alexander’s mission is to track down his sister and kill her. Werewolves in an enchanted forest petrify him, challenging his sanity, but Belinda leads him to his three angels, who send him into The Dark Forest. There and in The Wasteland he endures demonic visions, but is protected by love. Meanwhile, King Adnicul has been betrayed and encaged by his master Lucifer, who has told him he was but a vehicle to tutor Lucinda. Adnicul’s dead servant Eric comes back to him as an angel and promises him eternal peace if he helps Alexander find his sister. Alexander is lead by his younger self to a forest tribe, who tutor him to become an magical warrior. His reward is St.Michael’s Sword.
BOOK THREE: King Alex meets an old hermit that leads him to four evangelists down in a valley. They in turn lead him closer to finding his family. The last of the evangelists is St.Michael himself, who shows him Adnicul and asks him to team up with his former enemy in order to find peace. Strongly apprehensive and plagued by nightmares at first, he learns of Adnicul’s fate. He is a reincarnation of Lucifer’s first angel and wants to return to his tree in Eden. Together, they almost
defeat a monster, but Adnicul is captured by the reawakened beast. Alexander is forced to go on without him. The third and most vicious demonic forest leads him to the Cave of Original Sin where he meets Lucinda, who tempts him with roman riches and sensual fame. Adnicul escapes the beast in order to help Alex and together they finally kill Lucinda. A race against time begins, taking them through the seven horrid levels of hell, only to find the trapped family hanging in cages above a lava tunnel where they chase away Lucifer. Adnicul finds his peace in Eden. The family returns to their own restored time and Alexander decides to erect a monument to the archangelic memory of his past.
EPILOGUE: Alexander, sitting in front of the fire in his home, is visited by old long gone friends and dies happy, knowing he will see the other side content to have succeeded in his saving mission. [more]
Keywords: fantasy, magic, mystery
For Free
Md Jahidul Islam, Robin it
Digital Marketing
Digital Marketing written by Md Jahidul Islam
- Drama
- English
- 3334 Words
- No Age Recommendation
- 39
It is ironic that I am living. I am thirsty and the blood in my veins has got thicker; it can hardly crawl to all of me. I am losing control over my body; it is playing dead here and there. Perhaps, my soul is angry at my physical being; my body, and it wishes to leave forthwith. Alas! I must have done pretty badly to gods that they had me sent here; in the family of consciously fear-breathing peasants. They breath little and brisk; for they have forgotten the very idea of abundance. They are afraid that the air might just deplete away. Oh, I reckon! Their souls have been enslaved; chained to self-inflicted humiliation and convinced of being a low cast reptile. Oh God, why have you sent me here; my soul is nobler. I surpass their peasantry, Oh God, you have sent me wrongly! Qasim was cursing everything that he had inherited; the list was not long though. He was a bright young boy, who was smarter than other children of his age. It was 12 years ago when Qasim was pinned down in this damp hut of the poor slum. He had always thought that he had descended into this mire from much nobler heavens. May he had done some wrong that displeased gods, at least it was what Qasim believed. The slum included hundreds of poorly built huts and tents erected with rags and sticks. The fireplaces and stoves put in open near their lowly abodes. It seemed as if the world was inhabited by the people of different times; all at once in manifestation. Each age preserved by eternity for the purpose of record and realization. Though, the slum was notorious in one way, for in it lived the nomads of mountainous terrains. The slum was a century old and it was a legend, that they had their souls were in charge; they would break their bodies but would never bear to be belittled. They were ill known for their arrogance and stubbornness But the time passed, the newer generations grew fond of the ideas of comfort, luxury, and leisure. Sooner, the body manipulated and distracted to the very artifacts that its souls had warned about. The bodily form grew stronger and the arrogance receded. They had become aware of the soft silk, a full stomach, and sweet fragrance. So, they sold in the bits of their soul for chunks of luxury. Their souls seem now rather enchained. The slum was now inflated by the half-blood opportunists; half-blood was from their ancestors. By evening, they will gather and celebrate the holy feast of awakening. They would be baptized by the holy wine, to sedate their moaning souls. This was the epidemic that had struck the entire slum; save one. The one hut that remained was of Mukhtar Khan’s own; the father of Qasim. Mukhtar Khan was a hardworking man who would toil hard to get some bread with butter. He was a strong-headed man who would prefer to pet his soul rather than his body. But he had troubles at home; he could not bear to look at the hungry faces that he was responsible to feed. He carried it along while he went to work and more often had returned with the same burden; with added interest. Qasim, on the other hand, was still wondering why his father was such an arrogant man. He either does not find a job or loses it in a week or two; what a looser he had made of himself. Qasim could notice his neighborhood prospering and that the other children would buy clothes every summer, how lucky of them he would think. Qasim was upset and he would pity his fate and curse those who brought him into this mess. He always believed that his parents deserved it. One day, Mukhtar Khan returned home with the burden of unanswered responsibilities. He had not found any labor for wages, since past three days. The family had been waiting for some food since last night. He looked at the stove, which was desolated and seemed waiting to be lit for ages. Mukhtar Khan entered the hut and sat down in one corner and started weeping. Ghazala, Qasim’s mother, knew what had happened. She went over to her husband and comforted him. She would need to do it often with her empty stomach. She was indeed a strong lady who never complained. No one knew what dreams she had but the look in her eyes could possibly observe the very glare that could be seen over the sea when the sun is shining bright. Qasim, who was watching all this, angrily ran out of the hut. He was sobbing miserably and cursing everything that he knew existed. Back in the hut, Mukhtar Khan had started crying loudly. He complained to gods in between the sobs and said; “How god, how must I stand tall if you drag the very land that I step upon. Forgive me, for I can bear it no more. I am thirsty and my blood is getting thicker, it hardly crawls to all of me. Oh God, help me for I can not resist selling my honor for a loaf of bread and some wine to keep my blood running.” Ghazala was comforting him while a tear or two dropped down his cheeks which she immediately wiped off. She did not wish to add on to the poor man’s plight. Mukhtar Khan after a while of sobbing and crying said; “perhaps, I [more]
Keywords: Digital Marketing, Digital Marketing written by Md Jahidul Islam
$0.99
Melanie Higgins Zysk
Unconditional Love
The amazing story of one woman and the animals that changed her life forever
- Pets
- English
- 15 Words
- No Age Recommendation
- 652
- 1
This is a true story that I wrote from the bottom of my heart. I had a wonderful childhood until my father decided to have an affair with another woman. Our entire family was in shambles…not to mention how heartbroken I was because I was a daddy’s girl. We finally had to move to the projects because that was all my mother could afford. Talk about going from riches to rags. I remember crying myself to sleep every night. I started hanging around with the wrong type of people and getting into a lot of trouble, eventually doing time in a state penitentiary. I was calling out for love, I really was not a bad person, in fact, I was always quiet and shy.
Life can be a hard journey. I did not have much of a childhood, or perhaps I've
blocked a lot from my memory. But by the age of fifteen I was all grown up. I
had to make decisions for myself; admittedly, some were not very good. Looking back, it didn't take all that long before I came to the end of my rope, but once I got there I
turned around. I grabbed on as tight as I could, and soon I was pulling myself up,
one grip at a time. And I've made a lot of changes in my life since then, mostly to
make it a better one.
The first time that I rubbed my nose against a tiny fawn‘s nose, it changed me forever.
Looking back, I wish I might have been a little smarter concerning my career
choice because I would have loved to be a veterinarian. But life can throw you
curves, and I've learned to make the best of every day. And the day I held that
warm, soft Guinea pig in my arms made me feel happier than I'd ever been. Happy
deep down inside where it matters the most.
The day eight years ago when we bought our “ranch”, I realized just how much
I loved animals—all kinds of animals—and how much it meant for me to have
them around me. I developed a piece of raw land into a working ranch and it
was a lot of hard work, pulling weeds, putting in a fence line, and building pens
for the animals we purchased from a local auction. And it was worth it, because,
as I said, I love all animals of every kind, each with its own special interests and
personality. I can spend endless hours just relaxing and watching them run and
play with one another. We have thirty-seven animals on the ranch right now, and I
love each and every one with all my heart. Most of them were adopted, saved from
horrible situations, and still need lots of love and attention. Eventually, living with
us, they come around and forget their past lives of neglect and abuse. Our animals
live their entire lives on our ranch. They live to be very old and die of natural
causes—the way it’s meant to be.
This heartwarming story pays tribute to my lasting love affair with animals small and large. Over the years, I have adopted abused, neglected, or unwanted animals and cared for them on my Florida ranch. I developed a set of beliefs about the human relationship with animals, and I have come to realize that each creature has a distinct personality, a warm heart, passion and even a sense of humor. I operate on the firm belief that every animal, whether an unfriendly cat, lame pig, or a blind cow, needs to love and be loved.
I was a pure-bred city girl, until I discovered how animals could soothe my soul and enhance my life. Since then, I have made it my mission to provide shelter and love for animals of all kinds, including cats, dogs, pigs and even cows.
I believe that every animal has a right to live—and live well. I respect their
wishes and they respect mine in return. It is out of this deep respect that I say that
animals are not toys; they have feelings and hearts beating inside them just the
way we do. And it is from animals that we receive unconditional love.
I know, because it is their love, total and unconditional, that changed my life
forever.
Thank you for your precious time.
Category Non-fiction
Title Unconditional Love
Subtitle The amazing story of one woman and the animals that changed her life forever.
Author Melanie Higgins Zysk
Illustrations 72
Pages 205
Words 74,002
Binding Hard and Soft cover
ISBN 978-0-595-43920-1 (pbk) 978-0-595-70484-2 (cloth)
Reviews:
info@apex reviews. net
Unconditional Love
Melanie Higgins Zysk
ISBN: 9780595439201
Reviewed By Cary Merriman
Official Apex Reviews Rating:
The path of Melanie Higgins Zysk’s journey through life is the very
definition of “circuitous”…
After her parents divorce when she’s just a little girl, Zysk, her mother, and
her brothers are thrust directly into the veritable teeth of adversity. After suffering
a horrendous accident that takes her friend’s life and nearly claims hers, she
decides to live life to the fullest and strikes out on her own into the dangerous, yet
exciting world that surrounds her. Along the way, she becomes a teenage bride,
spends time as “Miss Keystone” (a NASCAR trophy girl), and even does a 10-
month bid in the Pennsylvania state pen – for a crime she didn't even realize she
committed.
A quick study in learning the discipline of self-reliance, though, Zysk
eventually becomes quite adept at following the desires of her heart, which
ultimately lead her to start a rescue ranch for animals that have been abused,
abandoned, or otherwise left to fend for themselves. It is in launching the ranch
that Zysk finds her true calling, one that has lingered quietly, yet fervently within
her entire life: sharing the unconditional love of her selfless heart with those
who truly need it.
Unconditional Love is an intriguing study of a life lived on quite a far reaching
arc, but what’s most endearing about Zysk’s life story is the salient way
that her warm-hearted nature shines throughout. From the time that she is very
young, she always wishes for the best for others and sacrifices constantly for the
benefit of those around her. Of course, this selflessness is most apparent in her
undying affection for and dedication to her ever-growing family of furry friends,
whose lives would be devoid of considerable comfort and enrichment were it not
for Zysk’s faithful devotion.
Life is destined to throw obstacles in our paths, but what matters most is
how we choose to negotiate them along the way. In Unconditional Love,
Melanie Higgins Zysk provides the reader with the perfect example of how to turn
any adverse situation on its ear by focusing on the blessings hidden deep within.
FOREWORD MAGAZINE wrote:
Animals & Nonfiction. UNCONDITIONAL LOVE: THE AMAZING STORY OF ONE WOMAN AND THE ANIMALS THAT CHANGED HER LIFE FOREVER by Melanie Higgins Zysk (205 pages, soft cover, photos, 978-0-595-43920-1): Florida rancher, animal rights enthusiast, and author presents this heartfelt tribute to her lifelong love affair with animals of all kinds; storylines include how inner city life and a led Zysk on a search for her life’s purpose, and ultimately to the devoted mission of saving animals; how to rescue and care for abused and neglected animals—such as pigs with backaches refusing to walk, blind cows ready to give birth, and dogs of all dispositions; and how to see life through the eyes of “unconditionally loving” animals—with humor, pragmatism, determination, and passion.
Endorsement:
"Drama, hope, and love, along with an unforgettable cast of characters, both human and animal, show us that with love, anything is possible." Sy Montgomery, best-selling author of The Good, Good, Pig.
Please check out my web site www.melaniehigginszysk.com you will laugh at all four of my videos with my animals.
I dedicate this book to my Mother, Dolores Baker; she is now resting in peace.
If your parents are alive, cherish them with all your heart. My mom was a great
influence in my life. I love and miss her dearly.
A portion of all proceeds from the sales of this book will be donated to the
Humane Society.
vii
Contents
Foreword. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ix
Chapter 1 The Beginning of My Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Chapter 2 Tim Came into My Life and We Started a Business. . . 23
Chapter 3 Happier Times . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
Chapter 4 Sad Times . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
Chapter 5 Selling the House . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
Chapter 6 The Business was Growing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
Chapter 7 Lil’ Abner and Lots of Excitement. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
Chapter 8 Building Our Dream Home . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
Chapter 9 The Wonderful Wedding Day . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129
Chapter 10 The Terrible Hurricanes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
Chapter 11 Sally and the Crazy Things that Happened . . . . . . . . 159
Chapter 12 Going Psychic and Here’s Foster . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185
Acknowledgments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
About the Author . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
Special thanks to my mother-in-law Carolyn Zysk and Sara my wonderful pig.
ix
Foreword
Life can be a hard journey. I did not have much of a childhood, or perhaps I've
blocked a lot from my memory. But by the age of fifteen I was all grown up. I
had to make decisions for myself; admittedly, some were not very good ones. It
wasn’t that I believed I was a bad person. I just made some bad choices about
some people and some of the things that I chose to do. Looking back, it really
didn't take all that long before I came to the end of my rope, but once I got there I
turned around. I grabbed on as tight as I could, and soon I was pulling myself up,
one grip at a time. And I've made a lot of changes in my life since then, mostly to
make it a better one.
The first time that I was in contact with an animal, it changed me forever.
Looking back, I wish I might have been a little smarter concerning my career
choice because I would have loved to be a veterinarian. But life can throw you
curves, and I've learned to make the best of every day. And the day I held that
warm, soft creature in my arms made me feel happier than I'd ever been. Happy
deep down inside where it matters the most.
The day eight years ago when we bought our “ranch”, I realized just how much
I loved animals—all kinds of animals—and how much it meant for me to have
them around me. We developed a piece of raw land into a working ranch and it
was a lot of hard work, pulling weeds, putting in a fence line, and building pens
for the animals we purchased from a local auction. And it was worth it, because,
as I said, I love all animals of every kind, each with its own special interests and
personality. I can spend endless hours just relaxing and watching them run and
play with one another. We have thirty-seven animals on the ranch right now, and I
love each and every one with all my heart. Most of them were adopted, saved from
horrible situations, and still need lots of love and attention. Eventually, living with
us, they come around and forget their past lives of neglect and abuse. Our animals
live their entire lives on our ranch where they also get special attention from our
friend and vet, Dr. Coughlan. There they live to be very old and die of natural
causes—the way it’s meant to be.
We believe that every animal has a right to live—and live well. We respect their
wishes and they respect ours in return. It is out of this deep respect that I say that
animals are not toys; they have feelings and hearts beating inside them just the
way we do. And it is from animals that we receive unconditional love.
I know, because it is their love, total and unconditional, that changed my life
forever. [more]
Keywords: love, rescue, animals, neglect, abused, pigs, dogs, cats, cows
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Original:Perugu.Ramakrishna
Flemingo
Translation:Jagadhaatri
- Poetry
- English
- 3399 Words
- No Age Recommendation
- 670
- 3
FLEMINGO..(lONG POEM ON MIGRATED BIRDS)
Time is infinite
Time is a canoe
Time is a winged dove
Time is desert silence
Time is the rumble of the oceans
Time is the showering rain droplet
It is the tremor of the heart
Time is the lingo of history
Time is an eternal test
A non stop journey is time
A ceased path is time
Time is life
Time is a flow
Time is death
Time is the opportune right
Time is a tide
Time is the breath
Time is invisible
Time is tangible
Time is a scene of beauty
The breath of an atom is time
The tune of an iota is time
Time is the play of life and death
Time is the envoy of peace and terror
There is no shore that the time has not touched
And no ray of light untouched by time
Time is the manifestation of the ancient Brahman
The modern interpretation of duty is time
Time is earthly and heaven
Time is eternal
Time is the river of life
Life is a journey
In the stream of time!
(2)
Journey
Is a feature of instability
The flow
A lively spirit
Flower voyages
Pollinated
From flower to flower
The bird travels
As love
From shore to shore
As a lineage
Procreation
Is the maternal instinct
And desire for procreation
Is the essence of the expansion of the soul
Copulation
Is it only pertaining to the man alone?
Justice in creation
Flourishes in plural
Many rain droplets do make a rain
Umpteen leaves do make a tree
Millions of cells do make one creation
Loneliness is not the trait of the world
Embossing fetus in the ovum
The bird blows the warmth of breath
The cosmic universe is
Perceived in totality by the inner eye
(3)
Every move is a journey
Every death is a journey
Every birth is a voyage
Flight is the winning spirit of the migrating birds
The effort of the ocean of love
Is to procreate
As the oceans run
With the feet of waves
As the air flows
In wavy winds
As life continues
With the unending breaths
As the world rounds in
Non stop news
In wings and wings
Do fly and arrive these birds
The creatures with passion and patience
Thousands of kilometers of restless journey
To the destination afar
In search of wonderlands
A partly witness of the
Irrepressible instinct
The soaring birds flying
Like hunks of the rainbow
Like the seven colored sankranthi(pongal rangoli)
The flowing sea of the bird flock
Floats on the treasures of the blue oceans
The jingling song of the migrating birds
Is a travel
A stopover
A sojourn
A libido
All are the traces of the moving time….
(4)
The bird is the
Infinite freedom with sprouted wings
The eyes filled with a fear
And a shiver
As the soldier of the border forces
The bird is a being, all time alert
Onlooker with a quest
It is the bird that
Smears a mosaic of colors
To the ends of the wings
And tips of the tails
The bird is the one
Which casts net and
Catches hold of the
Jet velocity
And the splendor of winds
In the moment of hunger
It is the bird that
Surgically operates the available food
And feeds on it as a fork
Welcoming a dawn
The bird is the
Wake up call
To the society
Crossing a cold night
Slivering the foggy morn
With its beak
Flying fast with its legs apart
Runs the bird in prey hunt
Testing the air contaminated
From the farthest branch
Of a tall tree
It is the bird that removes the pollution
On a sunny afternoon
On a choicest water meadow
It is the bird that
Jumps and thumps
And somersaults
Playing water khabaddi
Fluttering the body
Dries its wings
Measuring the distance of thousands of miles
It is the migrating bird
That carries
The history of the other side of the world
To the culture this side
And the race of that land
To this generation here
The bird is the flying goddess of passion
A flying message of peace
Completing the journeys
By the twilight of dusk
Gathering near the tree
It is the bird that gets ready for a chorus concert
It is the bird that reflects
The mynahs of poesy
Gandharvas (divine singers) of music
And the doyens of music
Hunger, sleep, love, and passion
Are similar to all the living beings
Between birth and death
Birds too have relations
They are not promiscuous
Birds too have a social life
They do not know social betrayal
The bird that unfolds its broad wings of vast feels
Seldom knows selfishness
It does not contract with narrow mindedness
To the lady bird
That sits over in hatching
With all balance and patience
The snacks of Pulicot
Brought tucked in the bags beneath its nose
Is fed in pecks and perks by the male
The bird is beyond jealousy and hatred
To the villagers who saved it from
Any one shooting a bullet
The bird as a good Samaritan in ardent gratitude,
Makes the land fertile
with its drops
Gifting a three times crop and leaves the land
The bird must be a role model for the man..!!
For sincerity and commitment
And discipline.
(5)
Exodus is an unending journey
Migration an age old fete
When the hues of life’s backdrop change
Exodus is a weapon
When the clouds anger
Making scarce a droplet of rain
The village turns an exodus
To the anna datha (farmer)
The farmer’s life turns a coolie
Exodus transports a generation
Exodus changes the way of life
At times migration in life
Encircles as a whirl pool
At times drowns as a typhoon
It makes you travel out to the continents
For the sake of the tiny belly
There is no race and no religion
The hunger’s language is universal
It may sojourn over anywhere
Will make you do anything
Stretches its hand until the belly is filled
From a dark continent
On to the dais of light
From an icy country
To the warm place
Builds the bridge of the seasons
(6)
The pelicans moving on the wings of time
The flamingos that ram in the air car
The Painted storks flown in like kites
Fluttering on the Konkanai
Sails of the waves are the black cranes
As the ambassadors of many countries
Have taken part in the international conference
The nature is all over colorful messages of love
All the festivals of love of the bird tourists
Are happily celebrated by the youth
On all the branches of the land are the happy resorts
In whichever village lost is the eye
It is the hustle of the moving colorful dreams
Are the goods of the empires of Manmadha(god of love)
The secrets of Mithuna rasi(Zodiac sign pertaining to love)
The hundred puzzles of the colorful flying boats
All over the Pulicot lake is the congregation of romantic heroes
All over the sky of Pulicot are the airs of emotions
Each bird is a hoisted flag of poesy
The colorful parrot is a short poem of dreams
The dark legged crane that has soiled its feet in the dirt of darkness
Washes them in the blue Pulicot
The myriad colored sea-parrot
Dives into the waters as the water drawing pulley
Alone a great sage
Stands on single foot in penance
When in the shades of waters narayani(heron) appears
He chants the manthra of gutakayaswaha(i.e. to swallow it)
Folding its wings to the sides of time
Gudaswami(the paddy bird or pond heron)
Takes thrice a dip in the Pulitheertham(name of a place)
As if thousands of women
Are stilled as a picture
In the postures of classical Indian dances
On the dais are the postures of the imitating flamingos
The everlasting fight of the usurpers for the water treasure
And for the enticing damsels
As if the Nelapattu has blown the snake charm
Every now and then they journey to the home
Naughty kids being the waves,
Floating are the winged boats
The structure that has turned
The Pralaya Kaveri(stormy Kaveri)
Into pranaya Saveri(lovable Saveri(a raga))
In the radiant jugalbandi of the jalatharangini
Is the passionate shower of dazzling ragas
As soon as it dawns in Pulicot
Spreading the colorful carpet
Entwining the hues of spring and winter
Flows as a soaring garden of blooms
Watering the mouth of the awaiting sea.
(7)
The bird guests under the boundless skies
Are the messiahs of universal brotherhood
The romantic tales carried over by the great poets
The Manmadhas(gods of love) who well knew the secrets of love
Lovers they are, who have left their family and place
With an ardent desire to beget off springs
Though in the size of a seed, but vast are their hearts
Their eyes are like lamps without wicks
To spread light is their message
To perceive life is their philosophy
Life is a penance
Life is radiance
Life is a dawn
Life is providence
Life a tune of the creation
From generation to generation pervades life
From earth to heaven is the debate of puranas
Life is an eternal stream of time!
The birds are the flags hoisted by the King of time!!
(8)
There –
On each branch is a concert
In each nestle, a sonata
Every tree a cluster of myriad hues
A bird fete all over the lands
Chirps and tickles
Coos and laughs
Many a confluences of umpteen springs of ragas
Many a sum of joy
With the exciting songs of the round eyed ones
The climate is delighted
In the highways of power filled skies
A colorful dream unfolds
The milky-way
Turns a rosy hued stream
In the time of saran navarathri Saphari Theerdham(name of a place)
Relaxes in the conference of arts
The banjara(wagabond) birds that have come
Croon the songs of coos
They spread out the treasure troves of love
Onto the nest of the worlds
To the noises of the love making birds
All the stars peer down to the earth
The ways of love of the romantic hearts
Breathe out the passions in loneliness
Stretching his hands of rays, sun of the dawn
Applies henna in stealth
Unfolding the doors of their hearts
The blooms color themselves in serenity
Color is the manifestation of spirit of life!
The lands that were not greeted till the day before
Today are, the life of the birds summit
The trees that were faded till the day before
Are today the strings played veenas
Thousands of flute songs of Krishna
Now the morns of Nelapattu
Are the wavy streams of sweet melodies
Now the evenings of Nelapattu
Are the springs of songs of the elixir of love
A pelican tucks in its lover
Into the nestle of its wings
A painted stork nearing it
Woos its beloved with its long snout
The sabari crane in the tune of passion
Loses himself to the sweet song of its lady love
Turning its body into breath the wood pecker
Smears all over the body of its heart throb
Not only the floods of milky bosoms
But the ardor of sperm too flows
In the great yagna of the Santhana Lakshmi(the goddess of children)
Millions of lives are dawned
(9)
Not only the Devakakulu
But all the birds are the ancient kith and kin!
All our visiting birds are
Manvanthara purandharas!(the age old lords of Heaven)
We assume the Bulbul to be an alien
When have we seen it as a peace monger?
We feel the blind crane as the evil spirit
Have we ever counted it as the
Charioteer of virtue?
Though the python is black in color
It is as good hearted as the dark lord (Lord Krishna)
All the beautiful dances of the red breast are
The festoons of light of the happy family ways
In the life rituals of the branches
Pour in the fuel of lively smiles
In the bright journey of procreation, both the branches
Ignite the lights of new radiances
Numerous tales of love, umpteen loves
Each branch is the cottage of Vathsayana(the author of Kama Sutra)
Every nestle is a sound of music
No creation, no rains, no destruction
No progress of the world is possible without the family life
Children are to the man, seeds of time
And the ovum is the radiance of dynamism for the bird
From the seed the tree and from the tree the seed
Is the first step to the world’s progress
To the yagna(ritual sacrifice) of the migrating birds
The flourishing Kadapa tree is the dais
The tree is the green flag hoisted by the nature
The tree is the comfort to the exhausted mankind
To the alien birds that crossed the oceans
The tree is the temple of conjugal bliss
To the on spreading bird dynasties
The tree is the temple of the secret of creation
(10)
Time is always an open book
All are open truths that are snuggled into it
Time is a teacher that seldom taught anything to anyone
Time is the emissary that tells every one everything
The foreign birds are the prophets of yoga of life
They are the bosom friends that do not know the hatreds of the borders
They are the alien yogis that do not have lust
They are the enlightened ones that have seen the secret of the kala chakra(the cycle of time)
Greets in the universal lingo, and ecstasies
They are well cultured ones that conduct unity camps
Holy souls overflow in joy
To the emigrant flock with the touch of this land
In the lush green shade
Appear the dreams of morrow’s generation
That’s why I say bird is the indication of time
It is the symphony of the past, present and future
The holy fire of confluence is the endorsement of trikala tantra
Bird loves a bird
Soul copulates with the soul
Nelapattu is the dais of the perseverance of Poundarika
Nelapattu is the indication of age old yagas
The sowing of seeds of life from generations
Nature is the balancing measure here
It is here that nature takes another breath
And here the world gives birth to another creation
This little land after crossing over the oceans
Is a living home for a race
It is a pillow of the joys and sorrows
Where the dharma of Buddha has excelled
It is the stage of dance for the danseuse Rathi Devi(wife of kamadeva, the lord of love)
That knew the mystic tune or the tune of mysticism
It’s the moment that seeks the justification of the soul
Having understood the inevitability of the mortal body
Forgetting the body pleasure, and pleasure of the body
Manmadha becomes a passionate yogi here
It’s the nature that fulfils it’s duty on this land
Turning to be a man, it furthers the creation
Congregation of birds that have no disparities
An egalitarian equality
The fragrance of passion to the ones who open eyes
And to the eyes closed sages
The liberation of the soul
Time, changing colors as seasons
For a minute, ecstasies as birds
It’s here that begins an end
To the time infinite
The foundation is laid here
From the end to the endless
(11)
Flamingo offers with love to its lady
The bedisa(silver fish) that it brings with its nose
How much it longs for its lover
When it succeeds to fly in whirls
Catching the vanjaram(the scomber or the seer -fish )in the net of its nose
Fluttering its wings dreams of off springs
Who must have taught so many tunes to these birds?
How was such passion adorned to these round eyed ones?
Which bird was that have shown way to this place?
That results every year in this compulsory family fair
The ecstasy of life in the foreyard of Nelapattu
Wings sprout to the nestlings
The tiny fish school, become their food grains
Pulicot is the field of water crop
The tiny shrimp is the fruit of the crop
Fluttering its wings the blue flamingo
Hounds the snake fish
The crooked nose lakumuki(king fisher) bird
Chase the mattagidasa(the sucking fish, called the Echeneis))
Having shattered the line of the girasa(short) fish
The baby paraja(Rasica) crow feels joyous
The sky seems congested
To the nestlings that got wings
The blue lake is the food store
To the red breast that has learnt to fly
In the battle for food
To the shouts of hunger and
The dance of the Bharatha(Titlark or Pippit called in Dakhini Chendul)) bird
Searching for prey
Bulbul is the food
Hunger is the age old enemy to all the living beings
To gratify hunger is peace for any being
Even the gods of heaven savor elixir in hunger
When big fish is swallowing the small ones
Why is it wrong if birds feed on fish?
As if the rainbows had bathed
As the Apsaras (divine courtesans of the heaven)cast their charms
Festival of colors on the waves of Pulicot
A divine game of the baby sparrows
The water meadow filled with children
Looks like a conference of joy and gay
In the eyes of the bird watchers
Reflects a kaleidoscope of colors
From Nelapattu to Pulicot
This bird festival
Flows like a stream of water colors
The celebration reaches the skies
Neither trap nor net, and no hook
Beak is the mere weapon
The battle of hunger seldom stops
Even in tides and in the nets of waves and typhoons
All the expertise lies in hunting
However a great jalapushpam(fish)
The test is to catch the prey with its beak
Is the sanguine trait shared
Pulicot is the resort for a change of climate
For the progress of the breed the trunks of Nelapattu are the residencies
The Pralaya Kaveri is now the grace f love
Every nestling born here is morrow’s bird
The yester born narayana(the common heron)
The water parrot that fed on this land
Having breathed his first in the nest of this tree
Can the alien Sabari ever forget?
The colorful dreams of the pelicans
The blooms of hope of their beautiful nights
The cool breeze and the odor of the soil of Nelapattu
Can the red breast ever lose memory of this honeymoon?
The ecology of India echoed with
The divine violin notes of gratitude
The land is infinite and sky vast
As the flow of time the ocean too is boundless
The one who called these foreign birds as aliens
The one who made immigration as inheritance
If he goes from this village
Begets a child in that great nation
Earns a green card and citizenship
But how can the egg laid here be an alien?
Can the way of pariga(the rose colored Starling or theCholam bird. Pastor roseus) brought up in the Pralaya Kaveri be changed?
This soil is remembered by every bird
And hence every year it turns up to its motherland!
(12)
The scene of the skies blooming in myriad colors
On the branches of the rubber trees is
The sweet home of the flamingo and pelican
Reflects the groping families of man
In the spreading apartment culture
In the shades of the hoods of the waters of Pralaya Kaveri
Joyously bathes the Siberia
Forgetting the tiresomeness of thousands of miles
As the armed forces of navy
The meghmalhar(a raga that invokes rain God) song of the bird
How many brushes of the artist must have bowed in reverence?
To this sea parrot
Umpteen canvases must have lost their faces
In the symphony of the chirps of love birds is
The still picture of the happy NRI doves
The music of sarigama (the seven music notes)that teaches the soaring music to the heart
At least once in a year……
The passion for the embrace of the motherland
The longing to kiss the soil of birth
The son of the soil who lost his inner face
Forgetting the roots of life in the battle
Having turned into a machine
At least …now
Have to transmigrate into the bird!
Conclusion
All the souls become one
The cosmic treasures become divine souls
In the confluence of the water treasures of India
Taking a holy dip turn to be the holy souls
What may be the divinity of the migrating birds
They always worship Narayana in waters.
Telugu original: Perugu Ramakrishna Eng trans: Jagaddhatri [more]
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