The following picks are from Internet for your surfing.
Read and visit the URLs (if provided) to read more of their work.
More money, More things, More happiness. Correct?
|
Often
people attempt to live their lives backwards; they try
to have more things, or more money, in order to do more
of what they want, so they will be happier. The way
it actually works is the reverse. You must first be
who you really are, then do what you need to do, in
order to have what you want.
~Margaret Young
|
The original author of this content is unknown.
The content has been formatted to fit this webpage. A perfect read
for this month !
The Praying Hands…
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village
near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen!
In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father
and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost
eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he
could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless
condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder’s children had
a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they
knew full well that their father would never be financially able
to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two
boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser
would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support
his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother
who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would
support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his
artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer
won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the
dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother,
whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht’s
etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those
of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was
beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family
held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht’s
triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated
with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position
at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother
for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill
his ambition. His closing words were, “And now, Albert, blessed
brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg
to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you.”
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table
where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his
lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over
and over, “No …no …no …no.”
Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced
down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his
hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, “No, brother.
I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look … look
what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in
every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have
been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot
even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate
lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother
… for me it is too late.”
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer’s
hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches,
watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in
every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you,
like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer’s
works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may
have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed,
Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother’s abused hands
with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called
his powerful drawing simply “Hands,” but the entire
world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece
and renamed his tribute of love “The Praying Hands.”
Moral: The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take
a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that
no one – no one – ever makes it alone!
*
The Internet information, images and icons on this page and on this
site are used fairly for reporting and transformative purpose only
(Copyright Act of 1976, 17 U.S.C § 107, fair use). The original
authors are credited and the URL linked where the origin is known.
www.theindusnetwork.com takes extreme care in reviewing the copyrights
of any content, image or icon before publishing on this page or
on this site. Please report to
remove@theindusnetwork.com to remove any content or image or
icon from this page or from this site. www.theindusnetwork.com does
not accept any liability except the removal of a violated content
from this site. |