Little Teddy Stoddard

Teddy StoddardJean Thompson stood in front of her fifth-grade class on the very first day of school in the fall and told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her pupils and said that she loved them all the same, that she would treat them all alike. And that was impossible because there in front of her, slumped in his seat on the third row, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed he didn’t play well with the other children, that his clothes were unkept and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy was unpleasant.

It got to the point during the first few months that she would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X’s and then marking the F at the top of the paper biggest of all. Because Teddy was a sullen little boy, no one else seemed to enjoy him, either.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child’s records and put Teddy’s off until last. When she opened his file, she was in for a surprise. His first-grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is a bright, inquisitive child with a ready laugh.” “He does his work neatly and has good manners…he is a joy to be around.”

His second-grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is an excellent student well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.”

His third-grade teacher wrote, “Teddy continues to work hard, but his mother’s death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn’t show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren’t taken.”

Teddy’s fourth-grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is withdrawn and doesn’t show much interest in school. He doesn’t have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class. He is tardy and could become a problem.”

By now Mrs. Thompson realized the problem, but Christmas was coming fast. It was all she could do, with the school play and all, until the day before the holidays began, and she was suddenly forced to focus on Teddy Stoddard.

Her children brought her presents, all in beautiful ribbon and bright paper, except for Teddy’s, which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper of a scissored grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents.

Some children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of cologne. She stifled the children’s laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some perfume behind the other wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed behind just long enough to say, “Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my mom used to.”

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing, and speaking. Instead, she began to teach children. Jean Thompson paid particular attention to one they all called “Teddy.”

As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. On days when there would be an important test, Mrs. Thompson would remember that cologne. By the end of the year he had become one of the smartest children in the class and…well, he had also become the “pet” of the teacher who had once vowed to love all of her children exactly the same.

A year later she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that of all the teachers he’d had in elementary school, she was his favorite. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy.

He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still his favorite teacher of all time.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he’d stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson, she was still his favorite teacher.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor’s degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still his favorite teacher, but that now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.

The story doesn’t end there. You see, there was yet another letter that Spring. Teddy said he’d met this girl and was to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago, and he was wondering…well, if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the pew usually reserved for the mother of the groom. And guess what, she wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And I bet on that special day, Jean Thompson smelled just like…well, just like the way Teddy remembered his mother smelling on their last Christmas together.

THE MORAL: You never can tell what type of impact you may make on another’s life by your actions or lack of action. Consider this fact in your venture through life.
 

Joke Of The Day: Bull Droppings

Rubber Chicken A turkey was chatting with a bull “I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree,” sighed the turkey, but I haven’t got the energy.”

“Well, why don’t you nibble on my droppings?” replied the bull. “They’re packed with nutrients.”

The turkey pecked at a lump of dung and found that it gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree.

The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch.

Finally after a fourth night, there he was proudly perched at the top of the tree.

Soon he was spotted by a farmer, who shot the turkey out of the tree.

Moral of the story: Bullshit might get you to the top, but it wont keep you there.

 

 

The Three Dolls

The Three Dolls

The Three Dolls

A wise man presented a prince with a set of three small dolls. The prince was not amused.

“Am I a girl that you give me dolls?” he asked.

“This is a gift for a future king,” Said the wise man. “If you look carefully, you’ll see a hole in the ear of each doll.”

The wise man handed him a piece of string. “Pass it through each doll.” he said.

Intrigued, the prince picked up the first doll and put the string into the ear. It came out from the other ear.

“This is one type of person,” said the wise man, “whatever you tell him, comes out from the other ear. He doesn’t retain anything.”

The prince put the string into the second doll. It came out from the mouth.

“This is the second type of person,” said the wise man, “whatever you tell him, he tells everybody else.”

The prince picked up the third doll and repeated the process. The string did not come out.

“This is the third type of person,” said the wise man, “whatever you tell him is locked up within him. It never comes out.”

“What is the best type of person?” asked the prince.

The wise man handed him a fourth doll, in answer. When the prince put the string into the doll, it came out from the other ear.

“Do it again.” said the wise man.

The prince repeated the process. This time the string came out from the mouth. When he put the string in a third time, it did not come out at all.

“This is the best type of person,” said the wise man. “To be trustworthy, a man must know when not to listen, when to remain silent and when to speak out.”

 

Email And Internet

An unemployed man is desperate to support his family of a wife and three kids. He applies for a janitor’s job at a large firm and easily passes an aptitude test.

The human resources manager tells him, “You will be hired at minimum wage of $7.25 an hour. Let me have your e-mail address so that we can get you in the loop. Our system will automatically e-mail you all the forms and advise you when to start and where to report on your first day.”

Taken back, the man protests that he is poor and has neither a computer nor an e-mail address. To this the manager replies, “You must understand that to a company like ours that means that you virtually do not exist. Without an e-mail address or internet access you can hardly expect to be employed by a high-tech firm. Good day.”

Stunned, the man leaves. Not knowing where to turn and having $10 in his wallet, he walks past a farmers’ market and sees a stand selling 25 lb. crates of beautiful red tomatoes. He buys a crate, carries it to a busy corner and displays the tomatoes. In less than two hours he sells all the tomatoes and makes 100% profit. Repeating the process several times more that day, he ends up with almost $100 and arrives home that night with several bags of groceries for his family.

During the night he decides to repeat the tomato business the next day. By the end of the week he is getting up early every day and working into the night. He multiplies his profits quickly. Early in the second week he acquires a cart to transport several boxes of tomatoes at a time, but before a month is up he sells the cart to buy a broken-down pickup truck. At the end of a year he owns three old trucks. His two sons have left their neighborhood gangs to help him with the tomato business, his wife is purchasing the tomatoes he resells, and his daughter is taking night courses at the community college so she can keep books for him.

By the end of the second year he has a dozen very nice used trucks and employs fifteen previously unemployed people, all selling tomatoes. He continues to work hard. Time passes and at the end of the fifth year he owns a fleet of nice trucks and a warehouse that his wife supervises, plus two tomato farms that the boys manage. The tomato company’s payroll has put hundreds of homeless and jobless people to work. His daughter reports that the business grossed over one million dollars. Planning for the future, he decides to buy some life insurance.

Consulting with an insurance adviser, he picks an insurance plan to fit his new circumstances. Then the adviser asks him for his e-mail address in order to send the final documents electronically. When the man replies that he doesn’t have time to mess with a computer and has no e-mail address, the insurance man is stunned, “What, you don’t have e-mail? No computer? No Internet? Just think where you would be today if you’d had all of that five years ago!”

“Ha!” snorts the man. “If I’d had e-mail and the internet five years ago, I would be sweeping floors at Microsoft and making $7.25 an hour.”

Which brings us to the moral of the story: Since you got this story by e-mail, you’re probably closer to being a janitor than a millionaire.

 

Joke Of The Day: The Art Of Presentation

Rubber Chicken Two Wives chatting in office:

Wife 1: I had a fine evening, how was yours?

Wife 2: It was a disaster. My husband came home, ate his dinner in 3 mins & fell asleep in 2 mins.

How was yours?

Wife 1: Oh mine was amazing!

My husband came home and took me out for a romantic dinner. After dinner we walked for an hour.

When we came home he lit the candles around the house. It was like a fairy tale!

At the same time, their husbands are talking at work

Husband 1: How was your evening?

Husband 2: Great. I came home, dinner was on the table, I ate & fell asleep.

And what about you?

Husband 1: It was horrible. I came home, there’s no dinner, they cut the electricity because I forgot to pay the bill. So I took her out for dinner which was so expensive that didn’t have money left for a cab or auto.

We walked home which took an hour & when we got home, I remembered there was no electricity so I had to light candles all over the house.

MORAL: PRESENTATION DOES MATTER…
NO MATTER WHAT THE REALITY IS

 

 

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