Acts Of Kindness
Thursday, March 29th, 2007
A story just caught my eye at Good News Network, in the Inspired! column. A Portuguese man made a will, aged 29. Seems like the sort of sensible grown-up thing one should do at that age. He had no family, but his sense of duty wasn’t about to be dampened so easily; he picked out 70 names at random from the phone book.
Luis Carlos de Noronha Cabral da Camara still had nobody to carry on his name when he died (although such a name deserves to be carried, and very carefully so). His estate—2 houses, a car, and few thousand in cash—thus went to complete strangers at around £6000 apiece.
This reminded me of a site to which a friend recently drew my attention, called Random Acts of Kindness. I particularly like their quotes section, where I found these two. I think as a pair they are particularly warming, as they display commonality between religions:
“Help your brother’s boat across, and your own will reach the shore.”
—Hindu Proverb
and…
“If you light a lamp for somebody, it will also brighten your path.”
—Buddhist saying
Image: Pavitrata Taylor
You can read more of Sri Chinmoy’s inspirational quotes, like the one pictured, at SriChinmoyLibrary.com
I read today in
This week a new species of leopard was declared in Borneo. Until now it was thought to be so similar to its mainland cousin that it was considered the same species. In fact the two were separated 1.4 million years ago, during which time they each developed different markings. So a leopard can change its spots, it just takes a little time.
Perhaps one gets so used to hearing strange stories in the news that they no longer seem so strange. I read about this one a couple of weeks ago, and thought “Oh that’s nice,” then turned the page. It is only now that I am realising how absurd it is, but also how wonderful.
5.43am. 2 minutes before my alarm. I’m awake and smiling. This is a very unusual combination of events. Waking usually only happens after the snooze button has taken a pounding. Smiling usually only happens after my daily 6am
Meadowy metaphors used to be rife in English poetry. Wordworth’s were the days when wildflowers pranced on any land not trodden on or nibbled at for more than a season. His inability to see meadows as they “hath been of yore” was no doubt metaphysical, and not because they had all been ravaged by weeds. No, that’s more a 20th Century problem.











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