A stranger walks through my memories, looking lost-so little among so much. A stranger caught in the past, trying to find her way out of the darkness with no luck. So, she wanders there among the death afraid, oh so afraid, of the darkness that lingers there. Suddenly a hand reached from out of the black, looking so big among it all, touching her with care. Frightened and lonely the stranger-a little girl- sobbed as she touched the hand and darkness turned to light. Peace eased the loss of the little girl as brillant light soothed away the black nothingness of night. That very moment, the little girl grew, a strong woman stood with memories of what had happened there. For the visits He gave her had given her strength and she knew at that very moment that He had cared enough to save her Through Prayer. -Copyright 1996 Vicki Sue Kohr
Sometimes we dream so much That reality seems so far away And perfect relationships Seem less than perfect. Sometimes we have such high hopes That our goals seem unattainable And accomplishments we make seem like everyday rituals. Sometimes we get so depressed That happiness seems impossible And things that really matter Seem to be forgotten. Sometimes we get so busy That we neglect the ones we love And problems seem to grow Into nightmares. Sometimes we just have to take the time To Live. -Copyright 1989 by Vicki Sue Kohr
To dance amidst the Heaven's clouds, To dream the dreams not said aloud, To laugh like a child, to run like a deer, To believe, to have your loved ones near. To reach into the great unknown, To finally feel at last, you're home, To touch a life you never knew, To find one love that's good and true. To wander where you've never gone, To sing your lover one sweet song, To cry tears of joy in the face of sorrow, To not look back but see tomorrow. To hold a Bluebird upon your finger, To listen to it and watch it linger, To be true to others and treat all well, To stand tall where others fell, To pray for yours and others, too, To ask for guidance in what you do, To take less than that of what you give... Is to know what it is like to really live. -Copyright 1999 By Vicki Sue Kohr
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you." Epilogue. . . .There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the things you have that money can't buy and remember that "Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present." The origin of this letter is unknown.