lovely story

Lovely Rose at 87

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged 

us

to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look 

around

when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a 

wrinkled,

little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire 

being.

She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. 

Can I

give you a hug?"

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she 

gave

me a giant squeeze.

Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked.

She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, 

and

have a couple of kids..."

"No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to 

be

taking on this challenge at her age.

"I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting 

one!"

she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a 

chocolate

milkshake.

We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would

leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized 

listening to

this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily 

made

friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the

attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it 

up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football

banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and

stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, 

she

dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little

embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, "I'm sorry 

I'm

so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! 

I'll

never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know."

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, "We do not stop playing

because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only

four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You 

have

to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you

lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who 

are

dead and don't even know it! There is a huge difference between growing

older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for 

one

full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years

old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and 

never do

anything I will turn eighty-eight.

Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The 

idea

is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets. 

The

elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for 

things

we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets."

She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose." She 

challenged

each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.

At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all 

those

years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.

Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to 

the

wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be 

all

you can possibly be. When you finish reading this, please send this

peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they'll really 

enjoy

it! These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.

REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL.

We make a Living by what we get, We make a Life by what we give. God

promises a safe landing, not a calm passage. If God brings you to it, 

He

will bring you through it.

"Good friends are like stars.........You don't always see them, but you

know they are always there."

story starting form letter W

The 479-word story consists only of words beginning with a 'W' and only 17 of those words are hyphenated compounds.

'Warm weather, Walter! Welcome warm weather! We were wishing winter would wane, weren't we?'

'We were well wearied with waiting,' whispered Waiter wearily. Wan, white, woe-begone was Walter; wayward, willful, worn with weakness, wasted, waxing weaker whenever winter's wild, withering winds were wailing. Wholly without waywardness was Winifred, Walter's wise, womanly watcher, who, with winsome, wooing way, was well-beloved.

'We won't wait, Walter; while weather's warm we'll wander where woodlands wave, won't we?'

Walter's wanton wretchedness wholly waned. 'Why, Winnie, we'll walk where we went when we were with Willie; we'll weave wildflower wreaths, watch woodmen working; woodlice, worms wriggling; windmills whirling; watermills wheeling; we will win wild whortleberries, witness wheat winnowed.'

Wisbeach woods were wild with wildflowers; warm, westerly winds whispered where willows were waving; wood-pigeons, wrens, woodpeckers were warbling wild woodnotes. Where Wisbeach water-mill's waters, which were wholly wave-less, widened, were water-lilies, waxen white. Winifred wove wreaths with woodbine, white-horn, wallflowers; whilst Walter whittled wooden wedges with willow wands.

Wholly without warning, wild wet winds woke within Wisbeach woods, whistling where Winifred wandered with Walter; weeping willows were wailing weirdly; waging war with wind-tossed waters. Winifred's wary watchfulness waked.

'Walter, we won't wait.'

'Which way, Winnie?'

Winifred wavered. 'Why, where were we wandering?  Wisbeach woods widen whichever way we walk. Where's Wisbeach white wicket, where's Winston's water-mill?'

Wistfully, Walter witnessed Winifred's wonder. 'Winnie, Winnie, we were wrong, wholly wrong; wandering within wild ways. Wayfaring weather-beaten waifs, well-nigh worn-out.'

Winifred waited where, within wattle woodwork walls, wagons, wheelbarrows, wains were waiting, weighty with withered wood. Walter, warmly wrapped with Winifred's well-worn wadded waterproof, was wailing woefully, wholly wearied. Winnie, who, worn with watching, well-nigh weeping, was wistfully, wakefully waiting Willie's well-known whistle, wholly wished Walter's well-being warranted.

With well-timed wisdom, Walter was wound with wide, worsted wrappers, which wonderfully well-withstood winter's withering, whistling winds. Wholly without warm wrappers was Winifred, who, with womanly wisdom, was watching Walter's welfare, warding Walter's weakness.

'When will Willie wend where we wait?' wearily wondered Walter.

'Whist, Walter,' whispered Winnie, 'who was whooping?'

'Whereabouts?'

Welcome whistling was waking Wisbeach woods when winter's windy warfare waxed weaker.

'Winnie! Walter!'

Winifred's wakefulness was well-grounded. 'We're well, Willie; we're where Winston's wagons wait.' Without waiting, Willie was within Winston's woodwork walls.

'Welcome, welcome, Willie.' Winnie was weeping with weariness with watching Walter, weak with wayfaring.

'Why Winnie! Wise, watchful, warm-hearted Winnie,' Willie whispered wheedlingly. 'We won't weep; Walter's well. What was Walter without Winnie?'

Wholly wonderful was Winifred's well-timed womanly wisdom, which well warranted weakly Walter's welfare. Whenever wandering within Wisbeach woods with Winnie, Walter would whisper, 'what was Walter without Winnie? Wise, watchful, warm-hearted Winnie!'