This is a must read for everyone.

Greetings all my MFP friends. I have posted many quotes and poems on here in the past 6 months and enjoy sharing these words. Today I came across this one and it hit me pretty hard. How often we pass by the little things in life, the writing on the wall, or how easy it really is to be happy when you have nothing. You might make fun of your neighbor because you have more, but he is out of debt. Sometimes in simplicity there is peace. I learned this myself one day. I walked out of my 70K a year job with 2 houses a new car and all the toys. The next year I made 9800 dollars and was living in a basement with a dozen boxes I saved of stuff. I then moved to the Caribbean for 6 months. Why well because I had nothing including debt so why not. So next time you want to poke fun of someone that has nothing stop and think he may really have everything. Find happiness in the simple things and love life. Much love my friends. =0)

The Most Beautiful Flower
Unknown


The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long,straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light.



Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,
"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.



So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
"You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play.



Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see.



The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
And appreciate every second that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy,
Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.