The Friday Story is a weekly invitation to reflect on life.
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I was sitting in my office very early in the morning. I love the mornings! The office is quiet, and my computer and the smell of coffee are my sole companions. My phone was sitting on the table, face up.
Suddenly, a tiny red circle appeared in the corner of an app.
The red dot was small
The red dot was silent
The red dot was persistent …
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, tell me the future, and that's not all;
- I want to know what will come next;
- I want to know the who, when, and how.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, why do you not speak; tell me the answers to the questions I seek!
- What makes one strong and another weak?
- What makes one strive for greatness and another accept mediocrity?
I'm not listening!
· You told me once
· You told me twice
· You told me three times
· You told me four times
· You told me five times
Today, I did something.
- it wasn't much, really
- it didn't take a lot of time
- it didn't cost any money
What came first—the Chicken or the Egg? My seven-year-old daughter, Lauren, asked me this question one day.
Lauren asked me again, "What came first—the Chicken or the Egg?”
I thought momentarily about some profound, meaningful answer but was interrupted by Lauren, who said she knew the answer (this is very common for Lauren).
“Dad, you think you are so smart. You have several degrees but don’t know the answer to my question. And I know the answer!”
After many months of work, an artist finally finished his masterpiece. The painting depicts a man waiting outside a door late at night, holding a lantern to illuminate his way. The artist was pleased with his work and entered a worldwide art competition.
I have a box of memories.
Shining, bright, and bold.
I have a box of memories.
Some warm, some very cold.
Answering an advertisement in a newspaper stating, "The Secret of Never Losing Another Game in Tennis for only $99.95" offered by the only "undefeated" tennis player alive, a young man cut out the reply address form, filled out his name and address, wrote out a check for $99.95, enclosed the reply address form and check into an envelope, and wrote the mailing address on envelope to a Post Office Box in Chicago, Illinois, stamped the envelope and placed the envelop in the mail.
“We owe it to each other to tell stories.”
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"Professor, I need to talk to you about my grade."
The young man stood at the edge of my desk, clutching his syllabus like a shield.
"Okay, have a seat," I replied. "What seems to be the concern?"
"I got an 85 on the final project. I need at least a 92 to keep my A."