Showing posts from September, 2012

Dead Roses and Dead Soul

Dead Roses and Dead Soul No one saw his major loss

Every morning 
walking up to miles
he collects roses
with the hope
he can give them to her one day Every afternoon
forgetting disappointments
he collects hope
with the dream 
she will be with him one day Even by the end of the day,
those fading roses on his desk
and depressed soul within him,
both continue to live
with a desire of reconciliation someday Times changed
but she didn’t. His soul continues to breathe
he sprays water to roses
hoping neither of them dies
hoping they both live for one more day
where they can hope for one more. She never came back
she decided she won’t. Roses withered and died
his soul grieved and died.
He buried roses and his soul
with no hope of a further journey
with no desire for tomorrow. All saw dead roses
being sorry for its loss
but the dead soul within him
no one cared to search
and remained invisible forever. Suraj Ghimire 2020 This poem was first posted on

मेरो बिश्वास को हीदाई माँ भूल भएको छैन

मेरो बिश्वास  को  हीदाई माँ भूल भएको छैन
मेरो आशाको बिहानी माँ कुहिरो लागेको छैन
मेरो प्रेम को जिवनमा प्रेम अपुग छैन
मेरो बिश्वास, आशा, प्रेममा गल्ति को आभाष कही छैन
म ख्रीष्टमा छु, म ख्रीष्टको छु, म ख्रीष्टको लागि छु
आमीन ।

57 cents – True story of Hattie May Wiatt

Dear Friends, this is the story i heard from my pastor today. and as i was searching in internet, I got it about the same girl.
I am just posting it by copy paste, so that they could share and forward it to all of their friends.

57 cents – True story of Hattie May Wiatt

A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it “was too crowded.”

“I can’t go to Sunday School,” she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by.
Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday school class.

The child was so touched that she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus.
Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings and the parents called for the kind-hearted pastor, who had befriended their daughter, to handle the final arrangements.

As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and cr…