Little girl and her father were crossing a bridge. The father was kind of scared so he asked his little daughter, 'Sweetheart, please hold my hand so that you don't fall into the river.'
The little girl said, 'No, Dad. You hold my hand.' 'What's the difference?' Asked the puzzled father.
'There's a big difference,' replied the little girl.
'If I hold your hand and something happens to me, chances are that I may let your hand go. But if you hold my hand, I know for sure that no matter what happens, you will never let my hand go.'
In any relationship, the essence of trust is not in its bind, but in its bond. So hold the hand of the person who loves you rather than expecting them to hold yours...
This message is too short.......but carries a lot of Feelings.
Whenever Bhairavi walked from her home to fetch milk, village boys gathered at the paan ka galla stared at her. She was beautiful. Milk can perched on her head; she would walk with eyes downcast. There was something about Bhairavi. It was as if God had created her with great care - fair and fragile. She seemed so pure that local lads didn’t ogle or tease her. Even ruffian’s just looked--they never thought of violating her.
Bhairavi was from a lower caste family in a village on Ahmadabad -Meshana highway. Arjun was a young man of the same village, a Karmakandi Brahmin. His father was well-known in the district and would be called for all religious functions
Since he was a schoolboy, Arjun went to the temple with his father and assisted him with rituals. Like his father, he was an early riser and lived by a strict religious and exercise regime
He knew Bhairavi well and liked her. One day, he was returning from college in Mehsana when he saw her walking in his direction. When she got close, she smiled and said, “Jai Shree Krishna”. Arjun was stunned. This was the first time she had spoken to him. When he recovered his composure, he returned the greeting.
Arjun was in love. Bhairavi was on his mind all the time. He went to her and asked outright: “Will you marry me?” “Only, if you have the guts” replied the disbelieving lass.
When Arjun told his father, the latter exploded. He told his son that he would have to leave the house if he married Bhairavi.
Arjun said nothing. He went to Bhairavi’s place, held her hand and said, “Come with me”. The couple moved to Ahmadabad, got married in a temple and settled in eastern suburbs. Bhairavi couldn’t believe the turn her life had taken. She was married to a Brahmin! The couple was deeply in love. Arjun started working in a factory and they would go out on his day off. They decided to put off starting a family.
Everything was going well, till Arjun got into bad company at the factory and began drinking. Bhairavi couldn’t understand how such a religious person could go astray and tried counseling him. He admitted he was on the wrong path, but he was addicted. He lost his job and began borrowing to drink
Lenders began to create a scene at their home which was very painful for Bhairavi. Soon, Arjun took to country liquor and his liver was damaged. Admitted to hospital, he had a stroke that paralyzed one part of his body. After 15 days when he came home, he had nothing but tears.
In order to make ends meet and buy medicines for Arjun, Bhairavi started working. On the first day, she came home in tears. Arjun couldn’t figure out what was wrong.
It was five years since Bhairavi had come from her village. Her love for Arjun and the wish to keep him alive drove her to a drastic step. She had become a Sex Worker.
Again a Tragedy. I don’t know what to say but it really Hurts…..
We either have been, or will be, put in the position of comforting someone who is grieving. That is an important role played by good friends.
The most common question I hear on such occasions is, "What should I say?" We want to help, but we feel helpless to make a difference in the face of such tragedy.
I often remember a story told by Joseph Bayly when I struggle to say the "right thing" to someone who is hurting. Mr. Bayly lost three children to death over the course of several years. He wrote a book called View From A Hearse, (Life-Journey Books, 1992) in which hetalks about his grief. He says this about comforting those who grieve:
"I was sitting, torn by grief. Someone came and talked to me of God's dealings, of why it happened, of hope beyond the grave. He said things I knew were true. I was unmoved, except to wish he would go away. He finally did.
Someone else came and sat beside me. He didn't talk. He didn't ask leading questions. He just sat with me for an hour or more, listened when I said something, answered briefly, prayed simply, left. I was moved. I was comforted. I hated to see him go."
I have found Joseph Bayly's experience to be excruciatingly typical. Both men wanted to help. Both men cared. But only one truly comforted.
The difference was that one tried to make him feel better, while the other just let him feel. One tried to say the right things. The other listened. One told him it would be all right. The other shared his pain.
When put in the difficult position of comforting someone in emotional pain, sometimes what needs to be said can be said best with a soft touch or a listening ear. It may not seem like much, but it can be more effective than you may ever know.
