10 Beautiful Lines ...

SOMEONE HAS WRITTEN THESE 10 BEAUTIFUL LINES. READ and TRY  to UNDERSTAND the DEEPER MEANING of THEM.

1. PRAYER is not a "spare wheel" that YOU PULL OUT when IN trouble, but it is a "STEERING WHEEL" that DIRECT the RIGHT PATH THROUGHOUT LIFE. 
2. Why is a CAR'S WINDSHIELD so LARGE & the REAR VIEW MIRROR so small? BECAUSE our PAST is NOT as IMPORTANT as OUR FUTURE. So, LOOK AHEAD and MOVE ON. 
3. FRIENDSHIP is like a BOOK. It takes a FEW SECONDS to BURN, but it TAKES YEARS to WRITE.
4. All THINGS in LIFE are TEMPORARY. If they are GOING WELL, ENJOY them, they WILL NOT LAST FOREVER. If they are going wrong, don't WORRY, THEY CAN'T LAST LONG EITHER. 
5. Old FRIENDS are GOLD! NEW friends are DIAMONDS! If you GET a DIAMOND, DON'T FORGET the GOLD! To HOLD a DIAMOND, you ALWAYS NEED a BASE of GOLD! 
6. Often when WE LOSE HOPE and THINK this is the END, GOD SMILES from ABOVE and SAYS, "RELAX, SWEETHEART; it's JUST a BEND, NOT THE END!" 
7. When GOD SOLVES your PROBLEMS, you HAVE FAITH in HIS ABILITIES; when GOD DOESN'T SOLVE YOUR PROBLEMS, HE has FAITH in YOUR ABILITIES. 
8. A BLIND PERSON asked GOD: "CAN THERE be ANYTHING WORSE THAN LOSING EYE SIGHT?" HE REPLIED: "YES, LOSING YOUR VISION!" 
9. When YOU PRAY for OTHERS, GOD LISTEN to YOU and BLESSES THEM, and SOMETIMES, when you are SAFE and HAPPY, REMEMBER that SOMEONE has PRAYED for YOU.  
10. WORRYING does NOT TAKE AWAY TOMORROW'S TROUBLES; IT TAKES AWAY today's PEACE.  

A Soulful Poem ...

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, let a child run his fingers through it once a day.

For poise, walk with the knowledge you’ll never walk alone.

People, even more than things have to be 

restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed. 

Never throw out anybody.

Remember: if you ever need a helping hand, you’ll find one at the end of your arm. 

As you grow older you will discover that you have two hands. 

One for helping yourself, and one for helping others.

Words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean.  Little audible links, they are, chaining together great inaudible feelings and purposes. -- Theodore Dreiser

Two Words That Can Change a Life

--by Cheryl Rice, Oct 21, 2016

Is it possible that two words can change someone’s day, someone’s life? What if those same two words could change the world? Well, I’m on a quest to find out – and, with your help, this quest will be a success.

This quest inadvertently began last November in a grocery store.

I was standing in the checkout line behind a woman who looked to be in her 60s. When it was her turn to pay, the cashier greeted her by name and asked her how she was doing.

The woman looked down, shook her head and said, “Not so good. My husband just lost his job and my son is up to his old tricks again. The truth is, I don’t know how I’m going to get through the holidays.”

Then she gave the cashier food stamps.

My heart ached. I wanted to help but didn’t know how. Should I offer to pay for her groceries, ask for her husband’s resume? I did nothing – yet. And the woman left the store.

As I walked into the parking lot, I spotted the woman returning her shopping cart, and I remembered something in my purse that could help her in a different but hopefully profound way. It wasn’t a handful of cash or a lead on a job for her husband, but maybe – just maybe – it would make her life better.

My heart pounded as I approached the woman. 

“Excuse me,” I said, my voice trembling a bit. “I couldn’t help overhearing what you said to the cashier. It sounds like you’re going through a really hard time right now. I’m so sorry. I’d like to give you something.”

And I handed her a business-sized card.

When the woman read the card’s only two words, she began to cry. And through her tears, she said, “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

I was a little startled by her reply. Having never done anything like this before, I hadn’t anticipated the reaction I might receive. All I could think to respond was, “Oh my. Would it be OK to give you a hug?”

After we embraced, I walked back to my car -- and began to cry too.

The words on the card?

“You Matter.”

A few weeks earlier, a colleague gave me a similar card as encouragement for a project I was working on. When I read the card, I felt a warm glow spread inside of me. Deeply touched, I came home and ordered my own box of You Matter cards and started sharing them.

First, I gave them to family and close friends. Even if they weren’t in as dire straits as the woman at the grocery store, their faces lit up and often their eyes moistened when they read those two words.  

As I became bolder, I started giving the You Matter cards to people in my community who make my life richer – such as my dry cleaner and the man who sells me fruit at the farmer’s market. While the gesture didn’t always end in an actual hug, the words were a hug in themselves. The recipients were visibly moved. And I was too.

Then I became a bit mischievous. I began leaving cards in places where I couldn’t witness who received them. I tucked one inside the pages of a library book I was returning. I placed another one in the credit card slot at a gas pump.

At the time I met the woman in the grocery store, I was completing a certificate program in Applied Positive Psychology sponsored by the Flourishing Center. I learned the science behind happiness and well-being.

One of the forefathers in the field of positive psychology, Chris Peterson, said that the entire practice boils down to three words: “Other people matter.” 

Well, my experience in the grocery store confirmed that telling other people they matter also matters. 

People crave connection but feel more isolated than ever. Every one of us is here for a reason. We are all essential. We need, and are needed by, each other.

Always.

Especially now.

That simple encounter in the parking lot has become the You Matter Marathon. 

No running required!

The goal is to create and enrich positive connections between individuals and within communities by collectively sharing 10,000 You Matter cards during November, when the holiday season starts and too many people find too many reasons to feel they don’t matter.

Together, let’s make some magic.

If inspired, you can join the You Matter Marathon here and sign up to receive 30 You Matter cards at no charge! Each week in November, participants will receive an email with card sharing missions, inspiring quotes, and an opportunity to share experiences and connect with each other online.

---

Cheryl Rice is a professional speaker and coach and the author of Where Have I Been All My Life?. Her company, Your Voice Your Vision partners with women striving to be leaders in their own lives.   

Be The Change: Today, take time to share a few kind words with someone. You never know just how much they might need it.

Sourced From www.dailygood.org

There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love. -- Bryant McGill

Forgiving My Brother's Killer

--by Valarie Kaur, syndicated from pri.org, Oct 04, 2016

On September 15, at sunset in Arizona, a crowd gathered at the corner of a Chevron gas station called the Mesa Star. Like every year since 2002, Rana Sodhi hosted a memorial here for his brother, Balbir Singh Sodhi. Balbir was shot while planting flowers in front of his store on September 15, 2001 — four days after the 9/11 attacks.

On this night every year, the station is transformed into sacred space, where we listen to prayers, hold candles and place red roses on the cool marble where Balbir died. I took my seat on the ground next to his widow, family and neighbors on white sheets spread over the concrete, lit by the flood lights attached to the gas pumps behind us.

Sodhi was the first of dozens of people killed in hate crimes against Sikhs and Muslims after 9/11. His murder turned a generation of young people like me into activists. I made a film about Balbir’s murder and began a life helping communities organize against racism and violence. Over the years, these memorials blur together.

“It feels like nothing has changed,” Rana told me. The cycle of violence feels endless: an act of terrorism followed by a wave of hate violence, profiling, surveillance, detentions, deportations, bigoted rhetoric and use of force abroad. Then followed by another terrorist attack and more hate and violence.

So that night a little over a week ago, Rana and I did something that was previously unthinkable: We decided to call his brother’s murderer.

Frank Roque is in an Arizona prison a few miles from the Mesa Star, serving out a life sentence. We did not know anything about his mental state or whether he had any remorse for what he'd done. We only knew what came out in his trial.

On September 11, 2001, Roque told a waiter at Applebee’s: “I’m going to go out and shoot some towel heads,” and “We should kill their children, too, because they’ll grow up to be like their parents.”

Four days later, he drove up to the station where Balbir was planting crates of flowers in front of his store. Roque shot him five times in the back before continuing his shooting rampage at another gas station, where his bullet narrowly missed a Lebanese American clerk. He then drove to his previous home, which had been sold to an Arab family, and fired shots several times.

When police arrested him the next day, he yelled, “I am a patriot!” and “I stand for America!” He was sentenced to death — a sentence that was later reduced to life in prison. He told the court then that voices told him to “kill the devils.”

A few months later, Rana’s other older brother, Sukhpal, was shot and killed in a separate crime while driving his cab in San Francisco. Rana has been telling his brothers’ stories for the last 15 years. He has gone everywhere he can — school auditoriums, interfaith conferences and churches — calling on Americans to combat hate with love. Since 9/11, Sikh and Muslim American activists have amplified this message, made films, published books, marched in the street, filed lawsuits, created organizations, and launched justice campaigns. But 15 years of activism has not made our communities safer.

I asked Rana, “If you had a chance to talk to Frank Roque, in the spirit of reconciliation, would you?”

“Yes, I would,” he said.

So the morning after the memorial, we huddled together around my cell phone, and called Roque. It was the one thing we had not yet done. To test our own ability to love, even someone who hurt us. At first, I thought it was a disaster.

I introduced myself and Rana and asked Roque why he agreed to speak to us. He said he had always told the truth: that the 9/11 attacks broke him down as a man and resulted in a mental breakdown. He did not act out of his own free will, he repeated. He lost his job and wife and was sorry for “what happened.”

He spoke in passive voice, and all I could hear was a man who refused to take responsibility for murdering another person. When I pressed him, he said that he was sorry for what happened to Balbir, and that we must also be sorry for the thousands who died on 9/11.

I began to think that calling him was a mistake.

Then Rana, who had been listening, began to speak calmly: “Frank, I’m so thankful for what you say. This is the first time I’m hearing from you that you feel sorry.”

Rana told him that a few years ago, he recognized Roque’s daughter and wife at Costco while buying flowers for his brother’s memorial and invited them to dinner. Frank remembered his daughter telling him the story and was deeply moved that Rana showed compassion to his daughter. That’s when the conversation shifted and opened up.

“I want you to know from my heart, I’m sorry for what I did to your brother,” Frank said. “One day, when I go to heaven to be judged by God, I will ask to see your brother, and I will hug him, and I will ask him for forgiveness.”

“We already forgave you,” Rana replied. He had never wanted Roque put to death, because it foreclosed the possibility of remorse.

“If I had the power to take you out from prison, I would do it right now,” Rana said. “If one day you come out, we can both go to the world and tell the story.”

Roque responded, “I know I can’t give you back what I wish I could, which is your brother, but I hope you find some comfort in knowing that I’m very sorry for what happened to your brother and your whole family and his wife and everyone.”

They agreed to speak again.

At the end of the call, Rana sat in silence for a few minutes. He had spent so many years traveling the country with a message of love and compassion. But he had never before faced his brother’s murderer, heard remorse and forgiven him. We looked at each other, amazed.

And yet, we were also left unsatisfied.

True reconciliation requires accountability, and Roque insisted that he did not kill intentionally. He could not talk about the murder without also talking about the damage it caused him and his family.

There are many questions left: Why did Roque choose Balbir Sodhi? Does he grasp the full extent of the pain and grief he caused the Sodhi family and the Sikh community? Will forgiveness lead us toward justice?

While I heard both sides reaching for reconciliation, the moment itself eluded us. The meeting was not an end but a beginning: It opens the door to reconciliation, and a new chapter in our story.

The Sunday after the 2012 mass shooting in Oak Creek, Wisconsin, Sikhs prayed for the soul of the gunman. Last year, Christian families forgave Dylann Roof, who murdered their loved ones in a historic black church in Charleston. And this year, Rana offered forgiveness directly to the man who killed his brother.

In an era when our nation is gripped by cycles of violence, these stories may offer a way forward.  

On the night of Balbir’s memorial, a Navajo family spontaneously performed a water prayer. They poured water into the ground beneath a plant at the site of Balbir’s death, so that our prayers for revolutionary love would flow down into the soil, through the roots and spread all over the Earth.

Rana and I will continue to talk to Roque. And I hope we too will find truth and reconciliation that can spread around the world.

Valarie Kaur and Rana Sodhi will be sharing this story as part of the in the "Together Tour" in October in Los Angeles and Denver. Find out more here. And to learn more about "revolutionary love" and see Valarie's film, visit the Revolutionary Love Project.

---

This story originally appeared on PRI's The World. Each weekday, host Marco Werman and his team of producers bring you the world's most interesting stories in an hour of radio that reminds us just how small our planet really is. The World is heard on over 300 stations across North America.

Be The Change: What is an act of revolutionary love that you can do today?

Sourced From www.dailygood.org

Hold The Door Open

HTDO

Mathews, a hotshot sales manager, on a Sunday evening, was in the parking lot of a shopping mall. The parking lot was packed. Cars were crawling with anxious drivers looking for that one vacant slot. Mathews, sharp and aggressive as he was known to be, spotted a vacant space ahead and quickly zoomed in.  He could see another car trying to reverse into the same slot, but Mathews was determined to beat the other man to it.  And he did !  Mathews felt jubilant - as we all sometimes do with life's little victories.  The old man driving the car was disappointed. He looked Mathews in the eye and continued his search for another parking slot. 

Two days later, Mathews was preparing for one of the biggest moments of his career.  He was close to winning a big contract for his company.  And all that was left now was the formal handshake meeting with the client's CEO.  As Mathews walked into the client's office and saw the CEO, he felt a sudden sense of discomfort.  Yes, it was the same man from whom he had snatched the parking slot on Sunday.  And you can guess what happened thereafter.  Alas ! If only Mathews had grown up with the HTDO habit !

So what is HTDO ?

It has probably happened to you before.  As you walk towards the door of an office, or a hotel, the person walking in front holds the door open for you.  Remember how good it made you feel - if only for that moment. 

Isn't it surprising that although we all feel good when someone holds the door open for us, we seldom do the same for other ? How come ?

It's probably because we are all preoccupied with ourselves and obsessed with getting ahead.  Here, then, is a life-changing lesson they don't teach you in any B school - 'Hold The Door Open'.

The world can be divided into two types of people. Those who push open a door, walk through and let it slam behind them.  That's the 99% of the population.  And there's the 1% who hold it open to allow the next person to walk through.  Learn to do that, and you too could join the select 1% club.  HTDO doesn't merely make other people feel good. It makes you feel good too. HTDO translates into a behaviour of helping and caring.

Winning in life is less about naked ambition and more about helping other people win. 

Someone once said, "It's nice to be important. But it's more important to be nice"

Make a beginning. Hold The Door Open.- HTDO

Khoobsurti ...

🌹: खू्बसूरती :🌹

हर किसी को अपनी खूबसूरती पर घमण्ड होता है | मै आज आपको खूबसूरती की परिभाषा बताता हूँ

🌹खूबसूरत है..... ....वो लब जिन पर, दूसरों के लिए कोई दुआ आ जाए !!

🌹खूबसूरत है ............वो दिल जो ,  किसी के दुख मे शामिल हो जाए !!

🌹खूबसूरत है.......... वो जज़बात जो, दूसरो की भावनाओं को समझ जाए !!

🌹खूबसूरत है........ वो एहसास जिस मे, प्यार की मिठास हो जाए !!

🌹खूबसूरत है............. वो बातें जिनमे, शामिल हों दोस्ती और प्यार की किस्से कहानियाँ !!

🌹खूबसूरत है.......... वो आँखे जिनमे, किसी के खूबसूरत ख्वाब समा जाए !!

🌹खूबसूरत है .........वो हाथ जो किसी के लिए .मुश्किल के वक्त सहारा बन जाए !!

🌹खूबसूरत है..........वो सोच जिस मैं, किसी कि सारी...... ख़ुशी छुप जाए !

🌹खूबसूरत है............. .... वो दामन जो, दुनिया से किसी के गमो को छुपा जाए !

🌹खूबसूरत है.......वो आसूँ जो, किसी और के गम मे बह जाए !!

Friendly Gestures

17 Friendly Gestures That Create Good Karma

When we create good karma in our lives today, we create more happiness and fulfilment for our futures tomorrow.

Karma is a universal law that affects everyone, all of the time.  It is the consequence of our actions.  Karma brings back to us what we are putting out into the universe, be it love, hate, humor, sadness, stress, excitement or anything else we chose to project.

Like the ripples in a pond that radiate out from a pebble dropping into the water, karma pulses out after each of our actions and choices, and it affects the future unfolding in front of us.

Offering kindness to others is a wonderful way to bring happiness to others, and it is also a way to create good karma in our own lives.  When we put kindness and love out into the world, the after-effects of these choices bring more kindness and love into tomorrow’s reality.  For this reason, offering a friendly gesture to another person is an action that is always worth the effort!

Here are a few friendly gestures that create good karma.  How many of these actions are a part of your daily routine?

1. Smile at people throughout the day.

2. Be patient with others.

3. Give a hug to someone you care about.

4. Pat someone on the back.

5. Offer a handshake.

6. Open a door for someone else.

7. Let a car in ahead of you while in traffic.

8. Use the words “please” and “thank you” habitually.

9. Share your knowledge and skills with others.

10. Be interested in what others have to say (ask questions, listen, etc).

11. Own up to any mistakes you make, and offer genuine apologies.

12. Give compliments freely.

13. Stop to ask someone “are you ok?” when they look distressed.

14. Help someone who looks lost or overwhelmed.

15. Stick up for someone who’s being made fun of or treated poorly.

16. Forgive people for their mistakes.

17. Focus on the good in others.

Which of these friendly gestures do you use the most in your day-to-day life?  Are there any other friendly gestures you would recommend for building good karma?  

Buried Treasure: The Story Of A Marriage

You cannot transform yourself, and you certainly cannot transform your partner or anybody else. All you can do is create a space for transformation to happen, for grace and love to enter. --Eckart Tolle

Buried Treasure: The Story of a Marriage

--by Carolyn North, syndicated from carolynnorthbooks.com, Sep 14, 2016

Last night I saw a swashbuckling production of TREASURE ISLAND, that wild tale of adventure on the high seas and mayhem on tropical islands with buried treasure, and good guys and bad guys mixing it up with every mishap in the world you could imagine.

It reminded me a bit of my marriage.

It has been a year and a half since Herb died, and all the ups and down, triumphs and tragedies of our long life together are peeling off me one by one, as I remember and let go, releasing him bit by bit as I grieve and heal from the loss of the half-century journey we took together. It feels like removing petals from a daisy, or an artichoke one by one down to the heart, where, surrounded by yet one more protective choke of thistle, lies the delicious heart that distills the taste of the whole plant.

So, I’m there and almost ready to take that last bite of the heart of the fruit.

Like most marriages, I guess, we were a mixed bag of personality differences, varied preferences, unexamined childhood traumas, weaknesses and strengths, hopes and passions. I think he and I partnered each other with as much love and courage as we could, making every mistake in the book on a daily basis but trying to learn from them and carry on. We, with our children, were a brave but merry little band most of the time, and laughter graced our dinner table nightly. (With dinner in our bellies, we were a fabulously witty bunch!) 

Though I wish I had done many things differently over the years, and known then what I know now, I have no real regrets.

However, all that is water under the bridge, as they say – washed away into past history with my tears and memories and stories – and what is left is the deeper essence that, I believe, brought us together in the first place.

I think of our marriage, now, as mythic. 

Herb, the budding scientist, serious and smart, wounded from the Holocaust in childhood and determined to succeed in his new world, and Carolyn, the mystical, impractical artist-type with a crazy Russian family and a tender heart. It was as if we had found each other across space and time, speaking different languages but determined to try understanding one another anyhow.

It is that that I contemplate now as I look back over the years at who we were and what we accomplished, and I realize it was a big piece of mutual soul work we were doing.  We were attempting to complete ourselves with one another, to find a common frame that combined the rational and the intuitive, suspecting that a true understanding of the world included both. 

We knew that we both wished for a Wholeness we could not attain on our own, and we both wished to do it with love.

Of course there were times when, frustrated down to my bones and thinking he would never get it, I was ready to pack a bag and leave. (Herb claimed he never once thought to leave.) But then I would simmer down, realizing that if he and I – two people who loved each other - couldn’t find a way of communicating what we saw without fighting over it, then how could we expect the rest of the world to do so? We were not just ‘us,’ we were also representatives of our two mindsets, with a responsibility to make this experiment work.

Slowly, over the years, we both softened our stances to make room for the other’s reality, feeling for, and finding the places where our perceptions could resonate with the other’s frame of reference.

I learned to listen closely, and shift my mind into hard ‘facts’ lined up in a logical argument, recognizing the clarity and beauty of keeping things simple, and he cautiously spread his perceptions into my more amorphous direction, writing poetry and feeling his way towards unexpected synchronicities. 

His joke was that as a scientist at the University he was considered a radical amongst his colleagues, but when he came home he was the conservative in the family. He called me a witch when magic happened around me, but learned to admire whatever it was that made magic happen; I, of course, depended upon his expertise to keep everything running, from the finances to the plumbing. 

We were a team – a damn good team with a good long run. 

But it went deeper than that – quite a bit deeper – and that is what I am contemplating now. What, I believe, we all need to be contemplating in one way or another.

It has to do with letting go of the arguments, of having to be ‘right’ about everything while making other points of view ‘wrong.’ It’s about listening for where varied wisdoms touch, even when the language is different.

 It’s about letting go of either/or thinking and finding the pathways towards both/and understandings. 

And doing so calmly, with love.

On Herb’s last night I sat with him while he slept, his breathing slowing, his face calm and inward looking. We had said everything we needed to say to each other in this life, we had maintained our friendship and humor even through the worst of his last few weeks – doing every last moment together, no matter what. 

I was beyond exhaustion, and he was ready to go.

Alone in the room with him when he breathed his last breath, I was quite surprised to hear myself exclaim out loud,

“We did it!”

And knew I was referring to all 58 years of our marriage.

---

This article is reprinted with permission. Carolyn North writes about Consciousness Change, about storytelling as a kickstarter to creativity. Her forms are autobiographical stories, mythology retellings, and how-to books. Learn more at her website. 

Be The Change: Reflect on a close relationship in your life, and what treasures of wisdom and transformation are buried beneath its surface.

Sourced From www.dailygood.org

A Special Kind of Grace: The Remarkable Story of the Devadosses

Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point. --C.S. Lewis

A Special Kind of Grace: The Remarkable Story of the Devadosses

--by DailyGood.org, Sep 10, 2016

She starts to speak, softly and in beautiful Tamil. Now and again he joins in, with a sly sentence here, a funny line there. They are sharing the story of their lives with a roomful of strangers. Before they started no one in the audience knew who they were. By the close of the evening- no one would be able to forget.

Manohar is a scientist-writer-artist, an innovator with a restless intelligence and vivid imagination. He grew up in the Madurai of the 1940s, a schoolboy at large, roaming the city under the great gopurams (temple towers) of Goddess Meenakshi.

Mahema, his wife, is an engaging person, lively and articulate. She was born and raised in Madras, a convent-educated gold-medallist who studied Art and Literature.

Soon after they were married the couple moved to America. They had a beautiful baby girl named Suja. They traveled. They made friends. Eventually they moved back to India. Wherever they were, they lived and laughed a lot.

And very often they talked about the Art of Giving, something dear to Mahema's heart. It was important to her- to them- that they share their many blessings with others. She was a wonderful teacher, he was a gifted scientist, and they were both talented artists. Together they found many ways to give.

And Life was Good.

Then there was the car accident that changed everything. Mahema was badly hurt. The accident left her paralyzed below the shoulders- for life.

'She had no control over many bodily functions ... she would have to be loaded with drugs that would dull her sharp mind. She would have to live with the constant threat of infections, bedsores and spasms. She would be a 'dependent' all her life, needing 24-hour attention ...' 
- Manohar Devadoss, from his book "Dreams, Seasons & Promises"

Mahema looked at her new life and it was hard. From now on it was going to be easier for her to receive than give. Easier- yes. But who says Mahema chose the easy way?

Because she didn't.

When dreams are destroyed it takes a rare kind of courage to pick up the pieces, to push past the pain, self-pity, the but-why-me-Lord?

bewilderment. " All I wanted," says Mahema, " was the strength to be a good mother, a good wife and a good friend�.those were my dreams." So she reached inside herself to find that strength. And she did.

More than thirty years later- here she is. Blooming, beaming in her wheelchair. She's sixty-three and she's beautiful. She is here to tell this audience that they must focus on the good things in their lives, and on all that they CAN do. " Believe in your Dreams," she says, not once but many times.

Mahema started teaching Spoken English classes at her home, she began work on a series of childrens books, she joined several women's groups and began to head fund-raising activities for a number of charities, she went through physiotherapy and slowly, painstakingly learned to use her shoulder muscles to write. People were inevitably drawn to her, by her charm, warmth and especially her cheerfulness. The pain was still there, and the grief of loss- but Mahema refused to dwell in it. She put it aside and opened the doors of her changed life to the world. " I know I still can be of service to people," says Mahema, smiling.

Listening to her speak you realize that service is an attitude- a mindset. It means putting the best of yourself forward no matter where you are or what you're doing. It's irrelevant that Mahema is in a wheelchair, and that she cannot hold the microphone or even sip from a glass of water by herself. Her generosity of spirit transcends her disability. Some people wonder what they have to give the world. Mahema reminds us that without exception we all have something to give -- arguably one of the best gifts of all -- ourselves.

Through all of this she had one constant, unfailing companion, one person whose strength would stand in when hers faltered. Manohar Devadoss felt the loss as keenly as his wife, and would fight as hard to overcome it. From the minutest detail of her crucial and complicated medical routine to the exact angle at which the wheelchair must be placed when she is being lifted out of their car, he knows it all. For more than three decades he has been her most faithful nurse and attendant always looking for ways to lessen the burden of pain she carries. He is particularly proud of a self-devised technique he uses to carry Mahema up long flights of stairs in her wheelchair. An incredible feat- especially when you realize that Manohar cannot see the steps, or even the wheelchair.

Around the time of the accident Manohar's vision began to fail. He was diagnosed with Retinitis pigmentosa- a degenerative eye condition for which there is no known cure.

Today he is almost totally blind.

The silence in the hall is very loud. Mere curiosity was replaced a long time ago with a growing sense of wonder, because the twin-tragedies in this story have inspired more than ready sympathy. This couple is here to share- not their sadness, but their strength.

Five years ago Manohar published his first book, "The Green Well Years", an affectionate tribute to his early years in Madurai. It retells the magic of a South Indian boyhood set against the beguiling charm of an old temple-city. The exquisite pen-and-ink drawings in the book are his. Because of his condition, Manohar has no color perception, he has acute tunnel vision, and the little he does see

is as if seen through a pinhole. Yet his drawings are flawless, sharp-edged, heartbreaking reproductions of snapshots from his life.

How does he do it? With special eyedrops to dilate his pupils, with super strong lights and special magnifiers, with gloves (because the lights make his hands sweat and that could blotch the drawing), with a photographic memory and uncompromising attention to detail, with a dedication and perseverance that go far beyond the ordinary.

Together each year they work on a special set of greeting cards. Manohar does the drawing and Mahema prepares a short write-up explaining the particular significance of the place, building, statue or scene that he has drawn. The cards are sold and the proceeds donated to one of the many charities they are involved with. The Art of Giving is as much a part of their lives today as it ever was.

The impossible is worth reaching for. You learn that, listening to these two. When you start testing the boundaries of what you can do- you break through self-imposed limitations. " Believe in Yourself," says Mahema. " Believe in your dreams and in yourself."

They live life in loving detail. Sunsets, a special dish, an old tune, an unexpected guest, a sudden breeze -- when these things come by, they are There. When you embrace life you come alive to the beauty of the present. That's what these two have done.

Today Manohar Devadoss has three books to his credit, and is working on a fourth. Mahema continues to be involved with a number of fund-raising projects and women's committees. Both of them have a wide circle of friends and admirers and continue to be an inspiration to everyone who knows them.

Accept Life.

Sounds simple, lives pretty tough. Our rebel hearts stage a hundred mutinies each day. Resisting, refusing, denying, defying. Sometimes we fight life off with flying fists. Forgetting to remember that it takes more courage to be still. Because Acceptance isn't about weak-willed submission to the blows of chance and fate, it isn't about glum indifference or spiritless passivity (even if the confusion is convenient). Acceptance is strength with wings. It's the power of compassion married to the humility of understanding. It lifts you above regret and rage to a place where hate is not an option, to a place where the difficult beauty of each moment is lived, learnt from- and loved.

Acceptance is a special kind of grace.

Manohar and Mahema Devadoss are a couple who live that grace day by day.

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Editor's note: Mahema Devadoss passed away in 2008, but her legacy of compassion and grace lives on in the hearts of the many people she touched. Though his vision continues to deteriorate, Manohar Devadoss still draws and continues to inspire many with his art, his writing, and his warm zest for life. He turns 80-years-old today. You can send him a birthday note of appreciation here. 

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Manohar Devadoss is a self-taught artist and the author of several books, including "The Green Well Years" and "A Poem To Courage". 

Be The Change: Mahema Devadoss passed away in 2008, but her legacy of love lives on. Manohar Devadoss turns 80-years-old today and continues to hold the torch of their inspiration. Send him a birthday message of appreciation for the shining example of grace he and his wife offered the world.

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