Goldendragon7
Grandmaster
Does anyone have any good Leadership or Human interest stories to share.... if so ........ break em out...... I'd love to hear them.....
:asian:
:asian:
Any Good Leadership or Human Interest Stories?
- Thread starter Goldendragon7
- Start date
OP
Goldendragon7
Grandmaster
- Thread Starter
- #2
Goldendragon7 said:
Just to start off....... here is an example.....
"Puppy Size"
"Danielle keeps repeating it over and over again. We've been back to this animal shelter at least five times. It has been weeks now since we started all of this," the mother told the volunteer.
"What is it she keeps asking for?" the volunteer asked.
"Puppy size!" replied the mother.
"Well, we have plenty of puppies, if that's what she's looking for."
"I know...we have seen most of them," the mom said in frustration..
Just then Danielle came walking into the office.
"Well, did you find one?" asked her mom. "No, not this time," Danielle said with sadness in her voice. "Can we come back on the weekend?"
The two women looked at each other, shook their heads and laughed.
"You never know when we will get more dogs. Unfortunately, there's always a supply," the volunteer said.
Danielle took her mother by the hand and headed to the door. "Don't worry, I'll find one this weekend," she said.
Over the next few days both mom and dad had long conversations with her. They both felt she was being too particular. "It's this weekend or we're not looking any more," Dad finally said in frustration. "We don't want to hear anything more about puppy size either," Mom added.
Sure enough, they were the first ones in the shelter on Saturday morning. By now Danielle knew her way around, so she ran right for the section that housed the smaller dogs. Tired of the routine, mom sat in the small waiting room at the end of the first row of cages.
There was an observation window so you could see the animals during times when visitors weren't permitted. Danielle walked slowly from cage to cage, kneeling periodically to take a closer look. One by one the dogs were brought out and she held each one. One by one she said, "Sorry, you're not the one."
It was the last cage on this last day in search of the perfect pup. The volunteer opened the cage door and the child carefully picked up the dog and held it closely. This time she took a little longer. "Mom, that's it! I found the right puppy! He's the one! I know it!" she screamed with joy. "It's the puppy size!"
"But it's the same size as all the other puppies you held over the last few weeks," Mom said.
"No not size ---- the sighs. When I held him in my arms, he sighed," she said.
"Don't you remember? When I asked you one day what love is, you told me love depends on the sighs of your heart. The more you love, the bigger the sigh!"
The two women looked at each other for a moment. Mom didn't know whether to laugh or cry. As she stooped down to hug the child, she did a little of both.
"Mom, every time you hold me, I sigh. When you and Daddy come home from work and hug each other, you both sigh. I knew I would find the right puppy if it sighed when I held it in my arms," she said. Then holding the puppy up close to her face she said, "Mom, he loves me. I heard the sighs of his heart!"
Close your eyes for a moment and think about the love that makes you sigh. I not only find it in the arms of my loved ones, but in the caress of a sunset, the kiss of the moonlight and the gentle brush of cool air on a hot day.
They are the sighs of God. Take the time to stop and listen; you will be surprised at what you hear. "Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."
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Goldendragon7
Grandmaster
- Thread Starter
- #3
Another example.................
The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.
Never the less, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He yelled at her, "Don't you know when you give someone a present, you should put something in it?" The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty, I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.
An accident took the life of the child only a short time later and it is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for many years and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.
In a very real sense, each of us as humans, have been given a gold container filled with untold treasures, unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family, instructors and God. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.
"The Gold Box of ......"
The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.
Never the less, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He yelled at her, "Don't you know when you give someone a present, you should put something in it?" The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty, I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.
An accident took the life of the child only a short time later and it is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for many years and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.
In a very real sense, each of us as humans, have been given a gold container filled with untold treasures, unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family, instructors and God. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.
Dark Kenpo Lord
Brown Belt
Please, enough already.
Dark Lord
Dark Lord
M
MisterMike
Guest
As they relate to Kenpo? Those are nice, but maybe the Bar and Grille forum would have been better.
I agree Mr. Mike,
These could be inspirational, did any of them relate to one of your students, fellow students, instructors, etc.? If so, just add that part to the story.
Thanks,
-Michael
These could be inspirational, did any of them relate to one of your students, fellow students, instructors, etc.? If so, just add that part to the story.
Thanks,
-Michael
Aw come on guys. He's just trying to cheer everybody up.
I've got one. Recently we had a kick-a-thon for St. Jude Children's Hospitals at my school. Personally, I wasn't really into the whole idea, but my instructor really wanted to do it. I felt like it was just kind of a cheesy way to get publicity and I really don't like asking people for donations, but he decided it was a go, and when your instructor says, "We're doing this thing," you say, "Yes sir." So we start putting it together.
Over the course of a few months We collected donations from students who collectied donations from everyone they knew. Only a small part of our student base really got involved, but we still managed to raise $3000. As we were putting everything together I began to learn more about St. Jude Children's Hospitals. I always kinda knew, "Oh yah, they take care of sick kids. Their like shriners or something." Now I had real information. I learned that they helped raise the survival rates of certain cancers from 4% to 80%. I saw the parents who had little eight and nine year old kids who were struggling to survive. Parents who in many cases knew that their child wasn't going to make it, but they could be there, and maybe with their child the doctors could learn something that would save somone else's child. I encountered co-workers who had experienced St. Jude's influence in their life, when a relative or friend was saved by their care. I added in a bit of my own money, not alot, only $50, but that was alot for me at the time.
Then came the day of the kick-a-thon. Twenty of us showed up at the dojo and our instructor basically gave us a two hour seminar on kicking technique. It was a blast! We did line drills, pad drills, partner drills, we worked on basic kicks like the front snap kick to work our form and accuracy. We worked on more advanced kicks like spin heel hooks just for fun. We even did some flying side kicks on the heavy bag. It was mostly adults, but two of the kids from my kids class showed up, and they made the very brave move of lining up with a bunch of scary adults and joining us in every drill and practice!
We gave out prizes for the people that raised over a certain amount and the people that raised the most money. Nothing expensive, just more Kenpo, free seminars and private lessons. So my involvement with this kick-a-thon that I thought was gonna be a cheesy pain in my hind end, turned out to be a great experience that led to alot of personal growth on my part. I continue to reap the benefits of my participation, as we just had a Nunchuku seminar yesterday that I was able to attend free of charge as a prize for raising over a hundred bucks. My kids were able to take a positive experience with Kenpo and Adults back the the kids class to encourage those students. My kicks got way better. Even the act of procuring donations helped me as a person, because I had to let people know my big secret, (I'm a martial artist), and that was really hard for me. Now it's easier to encourage others to join martial arts, because I'm not as worried about them finding out that I do it. And we raised all that money for those poor sick kids. Maybe $3000 isn't a huge amount, but it's a start. And next year I'm definently signing up for our kick-a-thon! I can't wait.
I'm really glad my instructor continues to push me into things I find uncomfortable or challenging. He is a real leader and inspiration.
-Rob
I've got one. Recently we had a kick-a-thon for St. Jude Children's Hospitals at my school. Personally, I wasn't really into the whole idea, but my instructor really wanted to do it. I felt like it was just kind of a cheesy way to get publicity and I really don't like asking people for donations, but he decided it was a go, and when your instructor says, "We're doing this thing," you say, "Yes sir." So we start putting it together.
Over the course of a few months We collected donations from students who collectied donations from everyone they knew. Only a small part of our student base really got involved, but we still managed to raise $3000. As we were putting everything together I began to learn more about St. Jude Children's Hospitals. I always kinda knew, "Oh yah, they take care of sick kids. Their like shriners or something." Now I had real information. I learned that they helped raise the survival rates of certain cancers from 4% to 80%. I saw the parents who had little eight and nine year old kids who were struggling to survive. Parents who in many cases knew that their child wasn't going to make it, but they could be there, and maybe with their child the doctors could learn something that would save somone else's child. I encountered co-workers who had experienced St. Jude's influence in their life, when a relative or friend was saved by their care. I added in a bit of my own money, not alot, only $50, but that was alot for me at the time.
Then came the day of the kick-a-thon. Twenty of us showed up at the dojo and our instructor basically gave us a two hour seminar on kicking technique. It was a blast! We did line drills, pad drills, partner drills, we worked on basic kicks like the front snap kick to work our form and accuracy. We worked on more advanced kicks like spin heel hooks just for fun. We even did some flying side kicks on the heavy bag. It was mostly adults, but two of the kids from my kids class showed up, and they made the very brave move of lining up with a bunch of scary adults and joining us in every drill and practice!
We gave out prizes for the people that raised over a certain amount and the people that raised the most money. Nothing expensive, just more Kenpo, free seminars and private lessons. So my involvement with this kick-a-thon that I thought was gonna be a cheesy pain in my hind end, turned out to be a great experience that led to alot of personal growth on my part. I continue to reap the benefits of my participation, as we just had a Nunchuku seminar yesterday that I was able to attend free of charge as a prize for raising over a hundred bucks. My kids were able to take a positive experience with Kenpo and Adults back the the kids class to encourage those students. My kicks got way better. Even the act of procuring donations helped me as a person, because I had to let people know my big secret, (I'm a martial artist), and that was really hard for me. Now it's easier to encourage others to join martial arts, because I'm not as worried about them finding out that I do it. And we raised all that money for those poor sick kids. Maybe $3000 isn't a huge amount, but it's a start. And next year I'm definently signing up for our kick-a-thon! I can't wait.
I'm really glad my instructor continues to push me into things I find uncomfortable or challenging. He is a real leader and inspiration.
-Rob
C
CoolKempoDude
Guest
I wish to hear more about leadership and other goodies people do in the world.
this is something we don't often hear or see every day. Hopefully, we will hear more.
Oh yeah, I like to hear it from AK people. I am sure there are good things in AK. If anybody here knows the leadership or goodies from a person in AK, please post it here.
the last thing we want to hear is BS and none-stop fighting among us. I'm sure everybody in AK is tired of seeing this happen.
GoldenDragon7, we really need this kind of thread.
this is something we don't often hear or see every day. Hopefully, we will hear more.
Oh yeah, I like to hear it from AK people. I am sure there are good things in AK. If anybody here knows the leadership or goodies from a person in AK, please post it here.
the last thing we want to hear is BS and none-stop fighting among us. I'm sure everybody in AK is tired of seeing this happen.
GoldenDragon7, we really need this kind of thread.
K
KenpoGirl
Guest
You've probably seen this one go through the email. I don't usually save these, but I did remeber it and was able to find it on the internet.
this is about attitude.
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Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always had something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!"
He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.
Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, 'Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.' I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life."
"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life."
I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.
Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at gunpoint by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.
I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I chose to live." "Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man.' "I knew I needed to take action."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breathe and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them. 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.
this is about attitude.
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Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always had something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!"
He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.
Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, 'Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.' I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life."
"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life."
I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.
Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at gunpoint by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.
I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I chose to live." "Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man.' "I knew I needed to take action."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breathe and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them. 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.
K
KenpoGirl
Guest
This is the other one, I remembered.
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One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.
As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."
He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face.
It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.
We talked all the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes.
We hung all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Darn boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him!
Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach ... , but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others. Each day is a gift from God! Don't forget to say, "Thank you!"
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One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.
As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."
He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face.
It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.
We talked all the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes.
We hung all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Darn boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him!
Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach ... , but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others. Each day is a gift from God! Don't forget to say, "Thank you!"
A sad but true story:
I had a Brown Belt student who was with my old instructor while I was still there. He was a young teenager when he started, not well loved or taken care of. He struggled to pay fees, helped clean, remodel, was there for every event.
I moved away for several years and then moved back here to Austin. It was several years later when I opened my own school, then a year or two later this Brown Belt walks in my door and wants to train with me. Reg was a very grown up father of 3 with another on the way. He had completed a military tour and was working in the high tech industry in Austin with another baby on the way. His attitude and dedication remained inspirational for other students and he trained with me for about a year. He lived outside Austin and drove 45 miles for his classes, but seldom missed. He ready for his next Brown test with me.
Reggie and his wife were killed early one morning by a drunk driver involved in a high speed chase with police officers. This was one of the saddest things I had ever experienced in my stint as a school owner. Reggie had 4 kids now and one was an infant. There was lots of family to take care of the kids, but we all know 4 kids are going to be an increased burden financially on anyone.
When my current instructor heard about this, he immediately volunteered to come to Austin and do a seminar and for the procedes to go to the trust set up by friends of the family. Tommy Burks came down from the Dallas/Fort Worth area and did a great seminar. He refused to take a penny for expenses and in fact donated more money to the fund I was starting. Even the students who could not attend the seminar donated what they could.
This is part of the Kenpo Family I belong to. Whenever the bickering gets to much, I can think of a dozen things my own personal students or teachers have done to inspire me to try to be the best person I can be. OOS
Yours in Kenpo,
-Michael Billings
I had a Brown Belt student who was with my old instructor while I was still there. He was a young teenager when he started, not well loved or taken care of. He struggled to pay fees, helped clean, remodel, was there for every event.
I moved away for several years and then moved back here to Austin. It was several years later when I opened my own school, then a year or two later this Brown Belt walks in my door and wants to train with me. Reg was a very grown up father of 3 with another on the way. He had completed a military tour and was working in the high tech industry in Austin with another baby on the way. His attitude and dedication remained inspirational for other students and he trained with me for about a year. He lived outside Austin and drove 45 miles for his classes, but seldom missed. He ready for his next Brown test with me.
Reggie and his wife were killed early one morning by a drunk driver involved in a high speed chase with police officers. This was one of the saddest things I had ever experienced in my stint as a school owner. Reggie had 4 kids now and one was an infant. There was lots of family to take care of the kids, but we all know 4 kids are going to be an increased burden financially on anyone.
When my current instructor heard about this, he immediately volunteered to come to Austin and do a seminar and for the procedes to go to the trust set up by friends of the family. Tommy Burks came down from the Dallas/Fort Worth area and did a great seminar. He refused to take a penny for expenses and in fact donated more money to the fund I was starting. Even the students who could not attend the seminar donated what they could.
This is part of the Kenpo Family I belong to. Whenever the bickering gets to much, I can think of a dozen things my own personal students or teachers have done to inspire me to try to be the best person I can be. OOS
Yours in Kenpo,
-Michael Billings
OP
Goldendragon7
Grandmaster
- Thread Starter
- #12
Thanks all ....... Keep them coming these are great! Our Kenpo Journey's are much more than just kick ~ punch stuff....... we all do a great job of talking about that and I don't see it coming to an end anytime soon. We have areas to examine as in our salutation........ Body ~ Mind ~ Spirit [triangle]. Most of us spend time learning and teaching the Physical and mental aspects..... here is an opportunity to search and expand your spirit and philosophical depths, through these types of stories.... some true some not... but I only ask to look for multiple meanings and share your feelings with others.... who knows what we all may learn and grow from each other!
:asian:
through these types of stories.... some true some not... but I only ask to look for multiple meanings and share your feelings with others.... who knows what we all may learn and grow from each other!:asian:
Dark Kenpo Lord
Brown Belt
http://www.martialtalk.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?f=29
I believe these stories need to be here. As touching as they are, most do not relate to Martial Art topics.
Dark Lord
I believe these stories need to be here. As touching as they are, most do not relate to Martial Art topics.
Dark Lord
OP
Goldendragon7
Grandmaster
- Thread Starter
- #14
Dark Kenpo Lord said:
Hey Clyde.... Glad to see you back posting. I would know that birthrate anywhere! LOL
I hear what you are saying and if the Mods and Bob deem a move so be it, however, if you read my prior post.... I do believe that this is directed towards the more philosophical side of our Art.
The stories are touching I agree, but Mr. Parker also touched people in many ways (as I focus on in the next story .... it reeks of Ed Parker thru and thru ~ especially the end) and I think this gives us an additional "point of view" or subject matter to discuss {for those that are interested} that I believe many instructors rarely consider. Each person/instructor does need to look for the application that he/she can relate to in Kenpo (other than the obvious).
I know you have some good stories similar to some that have been posted and look forward to your insights.
THE WOODEN BOWL
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about Grandfather," said the son. I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.
When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometime he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.
The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
On a positive note,
I've learned that, no matter what happens how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.
I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas Tree lights.
I've learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.
I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life."
I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.
I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.
I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But, if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others, your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.
I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.
I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.
I've learned that every day, you should reach out and touch someone.
People love that human touch -- holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.
I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.
Here is the part that Sooooooooo reminds me of what I and many others felt and feel about our True Founder and Senior Grandmaster Edmund K. Parker..
Sometimes people just need a little something to make them smile, people will forget what you said ... people will forget what you did ..but people will never forget how you made them feel.
:asian:
Goldendragon7 said:
I just wanted to make a quick note on this point.
Several years ago a friend of mine came to me with an issue to discuss. He had just recently been put in a position of authority at his place of business and he was young and inexperienced. He was trying to be stern and assert his authority, and he had already made one employee cry. He didn't know how to make people do what he wanted without hurting them. I suggested that he throw them a bone every once in a while. A free meal, a compliment, a pat on the back. I told him that people want to feel good, and they will replay the times you made them feel positive a thousand times over in their head to reinforce that emotion. If he just gave them something small every now and again, to make them feel appreciated, he could get them to do what he wanted without having to play the heavy.
He took my advice and now he gets along well with his employees. He's still strict, but he doesn't have to be demanding anymore. I think it's important for us to remember this lesson when we work with our students. I remember the times my instructor made me feel proud by giving me even the smallest of compliments. He may have corrected my lousy stance a thousand times for every pat on the back, but it's the pats I remember, and that's why I'm still there.
-Rob
Dark Kenpo Lord
Brown Belt
This place is starting to look like the Hallmark Card shop, is somebody on some feel good medication or what? I could have sworn this was a Kenpo forum.
Dark Lord
Dark Lord
OP
Goldendragon7
Grandmaster
- Thread Starter
- #18
Dark Kenpo Lord said:
Well, LOL....... Kenpo IS something to Feel Good about .... right!?!?!:uhyeah:
:asian:
Shodan
Master Black Belt
Just got this one today and really liked it. It's called "The Old Phone"....
When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.
I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information." "I hurt my finger...." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?" She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please." "Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. "Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."
I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Paul?" "Yes." I answered.
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you."
The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.
I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information." "I hurt my finger...." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?" She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please." "Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. "Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."
I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Paul?" "Yes." I answered.
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you."
The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
C
CoolKempoDude
Guest
you guys make everybody look sad this week. What is happening lately? Let's see
Pasadena's school shut down
OKKA shut down
Tracy's article on net
Any Good Leadership or Human Interest Stories? on MA forum
i'm crying right now.
Pasadena's school shut down
OKKA shut down
Tracy's article on net
Any Good Leadership or Human Interest Stories? on MA forum
i'm crying right now.
