Win WIn Situation

Ok Friends:

So you know I (it's suppossed to be the kids but let's face it, its REALLY me) collect box box tops as a school project.

I don't know why but it brings me a strange joy to paste those little guys on cute papers and submit them on behalf of my children...

Well now my girls are selling raffle tickets for their baton class.

Stay with me here...I have a point and I'm not going to ask you for money.

If you haven't learned by now I'm VERY competitive. I like (no, I LOVE to win) and now I (I mean my kids) have a chance to win twice.. BUT what's better is YOU have a chance to win too. And not some little win but a big $300 win...

See here's the plan:All you folks out there that throw away the box tops that come on your Kleenex, betty crocker, pampers, hefty, ziplock, chex mix, and oh SO many more products now just need to give them to me and in return I will purchase 1 baton raffle ticket in your name and you will then be entered into a drawing worth $300 and many runner up prizes like gift baskets filled with stuff you can't live without.

Of course this IS a win win situation so I have to share what's in it for us. Should the girls sell the most raffle tickets they could win a baton bag, team uniform and a team jacket. And if their class happens collects the most box tops they could win an ice cream party. The stakes here friends are pretty high.

So please consider teaming up with me (I mean the Growing Garcia's) and let's claim victory in these competitions.

Life Explained

On the first day, God created the dog and said:

'Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.'

The dog said: 'That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?'

So God agreed.

On the second day, God created the monkey and said: 'Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span.'

The monkey said: 'Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you bac k ten like the Dog did?'

And God agreed..

On the third day, God created the cow and said:

'You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years.'

The cow said: 'That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?'

And God agreed again. On the fourth day, God created man and said:

'Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you twenty years.'

But man said: 'Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?'

Okay,' said God, 'You asked for it.'

So that is why for our first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family.. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren.. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone..

Life has now been explained to you. There is no need to thank me for this valuable information. I'm doing it as a public service.

A video from an American Soldier

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TG4fe9GlWS8

The Buzzard, Bat, and Bumblebee

THE BUZZARD:If you put a buzzard in a pen that is 6 feet by 8 feet and is entirely open at the top, the bird, in spite of its ability to fly, will be an absolute prisoner. The reason is that a buzzard always begins a flight from the ground with a run of 10 to 12 feet. Without space to run, as is its habit, it will not even attempt to fly, but will remain a prisoner for life in a small jail with no top.

THE BAT: The ordinary bat that flies around at night, a remarkable nimble creature in the air, cannot take off from a level place. If it is placed on the floor or flat ground, all it can do is shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt, painfully, until it reaches some slight elevation from which it can throw itself into the air. Then, at once, it takes off like a flash.

THE BUMBLEBEE: A bumblebee, if dropped into an open tumbler, will be there until it dies, unless it is taken out. It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying to find some way out through the sides near the bottom. It will seek a way where none exists, until it completely destroys itself.

PEOPLE: In many ways, we are like the buzzard, the bat, and the bumblebee. We struggle about with all our problems and frustrations, never realizing that all we have to do is look up!

Sorrow looks back, Worry looks around, But faith looks up!

20/20 Adoption Distruption Show - RESCHEDULED

I received this email below from the Ranch for kids. I will post when show is rescheduled!

************
Dear Parents and Friends;
As much as we hate to cancel one more time, we must! ABC 20/20 has moved us forward due to the hurricanes and the Republican National Convention with its unprecedented news stories. As soon as we get a new date we will let everyone know. Many of you were looking forward to watching the program and I am sure that they will schedule us soon. They know how important this subject matter is and do not want it overshadowed by the before mentioned events. We are content to wait for the "perfect timing."
Thanks for your patience and we will let you know as soon as were are re-scheduled.
Our best wishes
Joyce Sterkel and William "Bill" Sutley
with The Ranch For Kids Staff

Set your TIVO

Dear Friends and Parents;

ABC 20/20 will air a program about adoption disruption on Sept. 5th 2008. This program was filmed in part at The Ranch For Kids. This Ranch welcomes children who for one reason or another are being placed back up for adoption.

They rescheduled this segment from the original date in July to avoid the Olympics and political conventions. There will be a follow-up segment on Nightline with Joyce's son Sasha who was adopted from a disruption at age 14. (Joyce runs the Ranch).

Please give The Ranch For Kids and ABC any feed back after you see the program.

It is my prayer that this program will draw awareness to the growing problems for families with international adoptees and that forever homes are found for these children.

The Pickle Jar

The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor beside the dresser in my parents' bedroom. When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.

As a small boy I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar . They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty. Then the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar was filled.

I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and admire the copper and silver circles that glinted like a pirate's treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank.

Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck.

Each and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. 'Those coins are going to keep you out of the textile mill, son. You're going to do better than me. This old mill town's not going to hold you back.'

Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin proudly 'These are for my son's college fund. He'll never work at the mill all his life like me.'

We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an ice cream cone. I always got chocolate. Dad always got vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream parlor handed Dad his change, he would show me the few coins nestled in his palm. 'When we get home, we'll start filling the jar again.' He always let me drop the first coins into the empty jar.

As they rattled around with a brief, happy jingle, we grinned at each other. 'You'll get to college on pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters,' he said. 'But you'll get there; I'll see to that.'
No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued to doggedly drop his coins into the jar. Even the summer when Dad got laid off from the mill, and Mama had to serve dried beans several times a week, not a single dime was taken from the jar.

To the contrary, as Dad looked across the table at me, pouring catsup over my beans to make them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to make a way out for me. 'When you finish college, Son,' he told me, his eyes glistening, 'You'll never have to eat beans again - unless you want to.'

The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in another town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served its purpose and had been removed.

A lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always stood. My dad was a man of few words, and never lectured me on the values of determination, perseverance, and faith.

The pickle jar had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of words could have done. When I married, I told my wife Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life as a boy. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my dad had loved me.

The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born, we spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and Susan took her from Dad's arms. 'She probably needs to be changed,' she said, carrying the baby into my parents' bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist in her eyes.

She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me into the room. 'Look,' she said softly, her eyes directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins.

With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. I looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.

*Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life, for better or for worse.*