Criticizing is Easy, Art is Difficult – Why? – Read this beautiful story of a painter??

Criticizing is Easy, Art is Difficult – Why? – Read this beautiful story of a painter.

Once upon a time there was a painter who had just completed his course under disciple hood of a great painter. This young artist decided to assess his skills of skills so he decided to give his best strokes on the canvass. He took 3 days and painted beautiful scenery.

Suddenly an idea flashed in his mind and he decided to display it on a busy street-square of that small town he was resident of. He wanted people’s opinion about his calibre and painting skills.

He put his creation at a busy street-crossing. And just down below a board which read-”Gentlemen, I have painted this piece. Since I’m new to this profession I might have committed some mistakes in my strokes etc. Please put a cross wherever you see a mistake.”

While he came back in the evening to collect his painting he was completely shattered to see that whole canvass was filled with Xs (crosses) and some people had even written their comments on the painting.

Disheartened and broken completely he ran to his master’s place and burst into tears. Sobbing and crying inconsolably he told his master about what happened and showed the pathetic state of his creation which was filled with marks everywhere. Such was the state that colours were not visible, only things one could see were crosses and correction remarks.

This young artist was breathing heavily and master heard him saying ”I’m useless and if this is what I have learnt to paint I’m not worth becoming a painter. People have rejected me completely. I feel like dying”

Master smiled and suggested “My Son, I will prove that you are a great artist and have learnt a flawless painting.” Young disciple couldn’t believe it and said “I have lost faith in me and I don’t think I am good enough. Don’t make false hopes..

“Do as I say without questioning it. It WILL work.” Master interrupted him. ”Just paint exactly similar painting once again for me and give it to me. Will you do that for your master?” Master instructed.

Young artist reluctantly agreed and two days later early morning he presented a replica of his earlier painting to his master. Master took that gracefully and smiled. ”Come with me.” master said.

They reached the same street-square early morning and displayed the same painting exactly at the same place. Now master took out another board which read -”Gentlemen, I have painted this piece. Since I’m new to this profession I might have committed some mistakes in my strokes etc. I have put a box with colours and brushes just below. Please do a favour. If you see a mistake, kindly pick up the brush and correct it.” Master and disciple walked back home.

They both visited the place same evening. Young painter was surprised to see that actually there was not a single correction done so far. But master wasn’t satisfied as yet and he told his disciple “May be one day was too little a time for people to come up with ideas and take out time out of their busy schedules to correct it so let us keep it here for one more day. Tomorrow is Sunday, so we can expect some corrections coming in.”

Next day again they visited and found painting remained untouched. They say the painting was kept there for a month for no correction came in!

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It is easier to criticize, but difficult to improve.

If you want to help people improve their behavior it is worth investing your effort in learning how to help people change their behaviors, attitudes and skills. Also, always remember not to get carried away or judge yourself by someone else’s criticism and feel depressed as you are the best judge to judge yourself. Take Criticism in your stride, consider those which are genuine and implement those which you think is the best to improve you as a person!!

What Love Is All About : Worthwhile sharing :

It was a busy morning, approximately 8:30 am, When an elderly gentleman in his 80′s, arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He stated that he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am. I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On exam it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.

While taking care of his wound, we began to engage in conversation I asked him if he had a doctor’s appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I then inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer Disease.

As we talked, and I finished dressing his wound, I asked if she would be worried if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now. I was surprised, and asked him. “And you still go every morning, even though she doesn’t know who you are?” He smiled as he patted my hand and said. “She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is.”

I had to hold back tears as he left, I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, “That is the kind of love I want in my life.”

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True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be. The happiest of people don’t necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything that comes along their way.

Providence of God Never Fails

Many years ago in a small Indian village, a farmer had the misfortune of owing a large sum of money to a female village moneylender. The female Moneylender, who was old, fat and ugly, fancied the farmer’s handsome son, Cliff. So she proposed a bargain.

She said she would forgo the farmer’s debt if she could marry his son. Both the farmer and his son were horrified by the Proposal.

So the cunning female moneylender suggested that they let providence decide the matter. She told them that she would put a black pebble and a white pebble into an empty moneybag. Then the son would have to pick one pebble from the bag.

If he picked the black pebble, he would become her husband and the father’s debt would be forgiven. If he picked the white pebble he need not marry her and the father’s debt would still be forgiven. But if he refused to pick a pebble, his father would be thrown into jail.

They were standing on a pebble-strewn path in the farmer’s field. As they talked, the moneylender bent over to pick up two pebbles. As she picked them up, the sharp-eyed son noticed that she had picked up two black pebbles and put them into the bag.

She then told the son to close his eyes and pick one pebble from the moneybag. Now, if he reveals the dishonesty of the lady, it would be harmful for his father. He also thought that providence of God will lead him to a better conclusion that can overcome the dilemma.

The son put his hand into the moneybag and drew out a pebble. Without looking at it, he fumbled and let it fall onto the pebble-strewn path where it immediately became lost among all the other pebbles. ‘Oh, how clumsy of me,’ he said. ‘But never mind, if you look into the bag for the one that is left, you will be able to tell which pebble I picked.’

Since the remaining pebble is black, it must be assumed that he had picked the white one. And since the moneylender dared not admit her dishonesty, the son changed what seemed an impossible situation into an extremely advantageous one.

Providence of God Never Fails.

Venomous Snakes

Venomous snakes were being ferried from Africa to Europe in a plane. Unfortunately the person who packed the snakes forgot to lock the box in which the snakes were put.

Once the plane had taken off and responding to the movement of the plane, the snakes found their way out of the box. Passengers in the plane could see various snakes on the isle. They screamed, some fainted and the brave ones sought refugee wherever they could within the plane.

The air hostess ran to the pilot to inform him of this scaring incident. The pilot quickly informs the air controllers on the ground. ”We are very sorry, says his boss. We forgot to lock the box where we put the snakes. They are indeed some of the most poisonous snakes in the world”. ”So where can I land? Please advise me before passengers are bitten”, asks the shaken pilot.

“No do not land, stay there for a minute, let me think”, advises the boss. Surely this sounds like stupid advice to the impatient pilot. But he has to follow the orders. A minute is too long for someone faced with such trouble he thinks. But he has to follow orders.

After a minute, the boss contacts him. ”At what altitude are you flying? He asks. ”300″, says the pilot. “Go higher”, advises the boss. ”But the snakes will….” Before he finishes his sentence the boss bellows “I said go higher!!”.

He complies. Now whats your altitude? Asks the boss. 500.66 , answers the shaken pilot. ”Go higher” ”But sir…..” ”I said go higher captain.” He complies.

By now the snakes are all over the plane, even one male member of the crew collapses. It is unbearable. A few have been bitten and have instantly died. But still, the majority keeps on seeking refugee.

“Now captain, keep on going higher”, says the boss. The pilot complies and keeps on going higher and higher. ”Now what’s your altitude?”, asks the pilot. ”Now I am on 1200″, he says quickly.

“Now stay there. Tell the cabin crew that at this altitude the snakes are now harmless. They can just pick them up with their hands and return them to the box and this time they should not forget to lock.”, advises the boss.

This is true. Once cabin crew member tries holding one snake. It is numb and harmless.

Soon it is a game within the plane with passengers, some for the first time holding snakes in their hands and returning them to the box. ”Look at this black mamba, it was really after me. Now I can even throw it and catch it like a ball”, says one passenger even throwing and catching the black mamba.

This was the end of the seemingly dangerous ordeal in the plane. Even those who had fainted were resuscitated and they gained consciousness.

Moral of the Story:

In 2011, the snakes or problems of 2010 will follow you. However there is need for you to go higher and increase your altitude in prayer and commune with God And surely, there is a certain point in praying that you reach and this is the point when even the most seemingly unconquerable problems are defeated; they lose power. "In the name of Jesus"

God is going to shift things around for you today and let things work in your favor. If you believe, send this story to your friends also. If you don’t believe, ignore it.

Echo : A reflection of life

A son and his father were walking on the mountains. Suddenly, his son falls, hurts himself and screams: “Ah!” To his surprise, he hears the voice repeating, somewhere in the mountain: “Ah!” Curious, he yells: “Who are you?” He receives the answer: “Who are you?” And then he screams to the mountain: “I admire you!” The voice answers: “I admire you!”

Angered at the response, he screams: “Coward!” He receives the answer: “Coward!” He looks to his father and asks: “What’s going on?”

The father smiles and says: “My son, pay attention.” Again the man screams: “You are a champion!” The voice answers: “You are a champion!” The boy is surprised, but does not understand.

Then the father explains: “People call this ECHO, but really this is LIFE. It gives you back everything you say or do.

Our life is simply a reflection of our actions. If you want more love in the world, create more love in your heart. If you want more competence in your team, improve your competence. This relationship applies to everything, in all aspects of life; Life will give you back everything you have given to it.”

Window Through Which We Look

A young couple moved into a new neighborhood. The next morning while they were eating breakfast, the young woman watched her neighbor hanging wash outside.

“That laundry is not very clean,” she said. ”She doesn’t know how to wash correctly. Perhaps she needs better laundry soap.”

Her husband looked on, but remained silent.

Every time her neighbor would hang her wash to dry, the young woman would make the same comments.

About one month later, the woman was surprised to see a nice clean wash on the line and said to her husband,

“Look, she has learned how to wash correctly.I wonder who taught her this.”

The husband said, “I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows.”

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And so it is with life. What we see when watching others may depend on the purity of the window through which we look.

A Pillow and A Blanket

A long time ago, a young, wealthy girl was getting ready for bed. She was saying her prayers when she heard a muffled crying coming through her window. A little frightened, she went over to the window and leaned out.

Another girl, who seemed to be about her age and homeless was standing in the alley by the rich girl’s house. Her heart went out to the homeless girl, for it was the dead of winter, and the girl had no blanket, only old newspapers someone had thrown out.

The rich girl was suddenly struck with a brilliant idea. She called to the other girl and said, “You there, come to my front door, please.”

The homeless girl was so startled she could only manage to nod.

As quick as her legs could take her, the young girl ran down the hall to her mothers closet, and picked out an old quilt and a beat up pillow. She had to walk slower down to the front door as to not trip over the quilt which was hanging down, but she made it eventually. Dropping both the articles, she opened the door. Standing there was the homeless girl, looking quite scared.

The rich girl smiled warmly and handed both articles to the other girl. Her smile grew wider as she watched the true amazement and happiness alight upon the other girl’s face. She went to bed incredibly satisfied.

In mid-morning the next day a knock came to the door. The rich girl flew to the door hoping that it was the other little girl there. She opened the large door and looked outside. It was the other little girl. Her face looked happy, and she smiled. “I suppose you want these back.”

The rich little girl opened her mouth to say that she could keep them when another idea popped into her head. “No, I want them back.”

The homeless girl’s face fell. This was obviously not the answer she had hoped for. She reluctantly laid down the beat up things, and turned to leave when the rich girl yelled, “Wait! Stay right there.”

She turned in time to see the rich girl running up the stairs and down a long corridor. Deciding whatever the rich little girl was doing wasn’t worth waiting for she started to turn around and walk away. As her foot hit the first step, she felt someone tap her on the shoulder, turning she saw the rich little girl, thrusting a new blanket and pillow at her. “Have these.” she said quietly.

These were her own personal belonging made of silk and down feathers.

As the two grew older they didn’t see each other much, but they were never far from each other’s minds. One day, the Rich girl, who was now a Rich woman got a telephone call from someone. A lawyer, saying that she was requested to see him.

When she arrived at the office, he told her what had happened. Forty years ago, when she was nine years old, she had helped a little girl in need. That grew into a middle-class woman with a husband and two children. She had recently died and left something for her in her will.

“Though,” the lawyer said, “it’s the most peculiar thing. She left you a pillow and a blanket.”

Thorns or Roses

A certain man planted a rose and watered it faithfully and before it blossomed, he examined it. He saw the bud that would soon blossom, but noticed thorns upon the stem and he thought, “How can any beautiful flower come from a plant burdened with so many sharp thorns? Saddened by this thought, he neglected to water the rose, and just before it was ready to bloom… it died.

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So it is with many people. Within every soul there is a rose. The God-like qualities planted in us at birth, grow amid the thorns of our faults. Many of us look at ourselves and see only the thorns, the defects.

We despair, thinking that nothing good can possibly come from us. We neglect to water the good within us, and eventually it dies. We never realize our potential.

Some people do not see the rose within themselves; someone else must show it to them. One of the greatest gifts a person can possess is to be able to reach past the thorns of another, and find the rose within them.

The Devil And The Duck

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. He was given a slingshot to play without in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target. Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner.

As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved. In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to see his sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch the next day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the dishes." But Sally said, "Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen." Then she whispered to him, "Remember the duck?" So Johnny did the dishes.

Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grand! ma said, "I'm sorry but I need Sally to help make supper." Sally just smiled and said," Well that's all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help." She whispered again, "Remember the duck?"

So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's he finally couldn't stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck. Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug, and said, "Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you."

Thought for the day and every day thereafter: Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done -- and the devil keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, debt, fear, hatred , anger, unforgiveness, bitterness, etc.) whatever it is, you need to know that God was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing, He has seen your whole life. He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven. He's just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you.

The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness, He not only forgives you, but He forgets -

It is by God's Grace and Mercy that we are saved.

Go ahead and make the difference in someone's life today.

Share this with a friend and always remember ...

God is at the window!............

The Cost of a Miracle

Tess was a precocious eight-year-old when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew.

All she knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn't have the money for the doctor's bills and their house. Only a very costly surgery could save him now and it was looking like there was no one to loan them the money.

She heard Daddy say to her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now."

Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully.

Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the backdoor and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment.

Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing.

She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good.

Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter.

That did it!

And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question.

"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone.

"He's really really sick... and I want to buy a miracle."

"I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.

"His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now, so how much does a miracle cost?"

"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry, but I can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening a little.

"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."

The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl,

"What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"

"I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation, but my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money."

"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.

"One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly. "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man.

"A dollar and eleven cents, exact price of a miracle for little brothers."

He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said, "Take me to where you live.

I want to see your brother and meet your parents.

Let's see if I have the kind of miracle you need."

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery.

The operation was completed without charge, and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.

Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?"

Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost... one dollar and eleven cents ...... plus the faith of a little child.

A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law...

THE EMPTY CHAIR

A man’s daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The pastor assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit, “I guess you were expecting me,” he said.

“No, who are you?”

“I’m the new associate pastor at your local church,” the pastor replied.

“When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up.”

“Oh yeah, the chair,” said the bedridden man. “Would you mind closing the door?”

Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.

“I’ve never told anyone this, not even my daughter,” said the man. “But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church, I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head..”

“I abandoned any attempt at prayer,” the old man continued, “until one day, about four years ago, my best friend said to me, ‘Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here’s what

I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith, see Jesus on the chair. It’s not spooky because he promised, “I’ll be with you always.’ Then, just speak to him and listen in the same way you’re doing with me right now.” “So, I tried it and I’ve liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I’m careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she’d either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm.” The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church. Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy ad died that afternoon.

“Did he seem to die in peace?” he asked.

“Yes. When I left the house around two o’clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But

there was something strange, in fact, beyond strange – - kinda weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed.”

Short Story On Friendship

Long time ago in ancient Greece, there live a man named Socrates, who was highly knowledgeable and an esteemed philosopher. One fine day, a fellow approached him. That person told Socrates that he has some information to tell him about his friend. Before he could even start talking about his friend, Socrates told him to take a test known as the 'Triple Filter Test'.

The first test of the 'Triple Filer Test' was the filter of truth. Socrates asked him if the information he had was the truth. The person said that he had just heard it on the way and was not sure if it was the absolute truth. The second filter was that of goodness. He asked if the information was regarding anything good about his friend. The man said it was actually the opposite. The third filter was that of usefulness. Socrates asked if the information was useful to him in any way. The man replied in the negative.

Socrates then replied that when the information regarding a friend is not true, good or useful, then why it should be conveyed at all. The moral of the story is that you may always participate in loose gossip, but when it comes to your friends ,it is just not worth it. You know your friends better than others. Therefore, you must avoid talking behind the back of your dearest friends. It only leads to strained relations and shows that you are not reliable or trustworthy as a friend.

Zen Master

A prince goes to a Zen master and tells him that he wants to be enlightened—and now! Instead of sending him away, the master says it could be arranged. After finding out from the prince that he plays chess very well, the master sets up a game between the visitor and one of his monks who has just a passing knowledge of chess. The condition is: whoever loses will be beheaded. Predictably, the prince starts dominating the game. Soon, however, his conscience starts to prick: “I had come to this monastery for a selfish purpose, but now I may become the cause of this poor monk’s death.” So, feeling compassionate, he deliberately starts playing badly. But playing well was second nature to him, playing badly needs his entire attention. Neither does he want to play too bad a game to make his real move obvious. His nerves stretched, soon he starts sweating profusely. After some time, the master stops the game. “The first lesson is over,” he tells the prince. “You learnt two things today: compassion and concentration. Now go and hug your chess opponent who made it possible.”

American Professor

There was an American professor who had made a lifetime’s study of the Japanese tea ceremony. He was the western expert. He heard there was an old man living in Japan who was a master of the tea ceremony. So he made a special trip to Japan to see him. He found the master living in a small house on the outskirts of Tokyo and they sat down to have tea together. The professor immediately started talking about the tea ceremony, his study, all he knew about it and how he was looking forward to sharing his learning with the old man. The old man said nothing, but started to pour tea into the professor’s cup. While the professor talked, the old man continued to pour the tea, the cup filled and the old man kept pouring. The tea split down the sides of the cup in a stream onto the floor, yet the old man did not stop. “Stop!” said the professor. “You are crazy. You can’t fit any more tea in that cup. It’s full.” “I was just practicing,” replied the old man, “for the task of attempting to pass learning to a mind that is already full.”

The house with the golden windows

The little girl lived in a small, very simple, poor house on a hill and as she grew she would play in the small garden and as she grew she was able to see over the garden fence and across the valley to a wonderful house high on the hill – and this house had golden windows, so golden and shining that the little girl would dream of how magic it would be to grow up and live in a house with golden windows instead of an ordinary house like hers.

And although she loved her parents and her family, she yearned to live in such a golden house and dreamed all day about how wonderful and exciting it must feel to live there.

When she got to an age where she gained enough skill and sensibility to go outside her garden fence, she asked her mother is she could go for a bike ride outside the gate and down the lane. After pleading with her, her mother finally allowed her to go, insisting that she kept close to the house and didn’t wander too far. The day was beautiful and the little girl knew exactly where she was heading! Down the lane and across the valley, she rode her bike until she got to the gate of the golden house across on the other hill.

As she dismounted her bike and lent it against the gate post, she focused on the path that lead to the house and then on the house itself…and was so disappointed as she realized all the windows were plain and rather dirty, reflecting nothing other than the sad neglect of the house that stood derelict.

So sad she didn’t go any further and turned, heart broken as she remounted her bike … As she glanced up she saw a sight to amaze her…there across the way on her side of the valley was a little house and its windows glistened golden …as the sun shone on her little home.

She realized that she had been living in her golden house and all the love and care she found there was what made her home the ‘golden house’. Everything she dreamed was right there in front of her nose!