On my Sundae I couldn"t find an original rumiation piece -- my soul is not compleatly at rest mayhaps? -- so I went back to my archives -- and feel it's gOod enough to share with newer readers here/hear! I also reproduced the conversationists who took time to chat; I also googled Bertte Midler to seek out her heART of a ROSE!:)~~~
TUESDAY, APRIL 19, 2005
Growing Up, Growing Old
A heart-warming email arrived this morn from a newly-found friend, Mr S.H. Tan which I must share with fellow Malaysians, maybe to lighten up some Monday blues? He kindly forwarded the story of a Lovely Rose who gave some useful tips on the desiderata of happiness.
But prefacing the story of Rose (have patience, eh, it's a virtue, remember?), I just briefly share some of Tan's observations, that our society has seen a deterioration of social graces. People do not readily say "Thank you" for a favour or service rendered, children nowadays do not show respect to their elders, not finding time to greet visitors with a "Good morning" and a warm smile, but whose fault is it really?
Tan's lament -- which I share indeed -- that some parents push their children to get ahead of their peers, no matter what the means or the costs. Many adults have succumbed to the culture of Form Over Substance (Gaya mesti mahu!),and show scant regard to respect for their fellow humankind, animals, and the environment. Yes, even our Prime Minister has lamented on many occasions that the country boasts First World infrastructure, but the people still show Third World mentality.
Now back to the Rose story: SH's daugher-on-campus in New Zealand has forwarded a first-person account of a lady, who was introduced by the Professor to the school one day. When the storyteller -- a young lad maybe in his 20s? -- asked of Miss Rose, a wrinkled, little old lady of spritely age 87, with a beaming smile that shone through her whole person, why she was there, "at such a young, innocent age".
With the same wit of the enquirer, she jovially replied that she wanted "to meet a rich man, get married and have a couple of kids!"
Well, in a more serious vein, Rose said: "I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!"
Rose and the tale-er became instant friends, with her sharing nuggets of wisdom and zest for life with many newfound friends.I nevitably, she soon became an icon on campus. One day she was invited to address a football banquet.
Midway through her speech, Rose dropped her three by five cards (cue cards with pointers for a prepared speech, remember?) and she just said she had kept off the daily "pint" as it was Lent, and now she was jittery without the stabiliser, guess she would just have to tell it as best she could.
Her message basically was that growing old was easy, it did not require talent. It's growing up
that's everybody's challenge. Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional. Rose said the idea was to grow up by "always finding opportunity in change".
Desiderata.happiness
On her inclination towards living it up, Rose said: "We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing."
Her four secrets to staying young -- being happy, desire to achieve success, having a sense of humour, and having a dream.
Her finale at the dinner was to entertain her young audience with "The Rose"; she challenged them to also learn the lyrics and live the spirit of the song.
I excerpted this from The Rose, by Bette Midler, hope it's the right track:
It's the heart, afraid of breaking,
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream, afraid of waking,
That never takes a chance.
Rose seized all opportunities to grow up and she never had regrets. She lived life to the fullest.
She dared to dream. She graduated at year's end, as the storyteller related. Soon after, little Rose passed on, and some 2,000 students attended her funeral to bid farewell, but Rose's spirit lived in all the hearts she generously gave a bit of herself.
Let's give Rose a Wow&Bow, at 87-young and her youthful spirit shining ever bright. Terima kasih to SH and Ms Tan for sharing, heart-to-heart.
PS: For the original account of The Story of a Rose, log onto:www.mybuddies.net; Enjoy!
But prefacing the story of Rose (have patience, eh, it's a virtue, remember?), I just briefly share some of Tan's observations, that our society has seen a deterioration of social graces. People do not readily say "Thank you" for a favour or service rendered, children nowadays do not show respect to their elders, not finding time to greet visitors with a "Good morning" and a warm smile, but whose fault is it really?
Tan's lament -- which I share indeed -- that some parents push their children to get ahead of their peers, no matter what the means or the costs. Many adults have succumbed to the culture of Form Over Substance (Gaya mesti mahu!),and show scant regard to respect for their fellow humankind, animals, and the environment. Yes, even our Prime Minister has lamented on many occasions that the country boasts First World infrastructure, but the people still show Third World mentality.
Now back to the Rose story: SH's daugher-on-campus in New Zealand has forwarded a first-person account of a lady, who was introduced by the Professor to the school one day. When the storyteller -- a young lad maybe in his 20s? -- asked of Miss Rose, a wrinkled, little old lady of spritely age 87, with a beaming smile that shone through her whole person, why she was there, "at such a young, innocent age".
With the same wit of the enquirer, she jovially replied that she wanted "to meet a rich man, get married and have a couple of kids!"
Well, in a more serious vein, Rose said: "I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!"
Rose and the tale-er became instant friends, with her sharing nuggets of wisdom and zest for life with many newfound friends.I nevitably, she soon became an icon on campus. One day she was invited to address a football banquet.
Midway through her speech, Rose dropped her three by five cards (cue cards with pointers for a prepared speech, remember?) and she just said she had kept off the daily "pint" as it was Lent, and now she was jittery without the stabiliser, guess she would just have to tell it as best she could.
Her message basically was that growing old was easy, it did not require talent. It's growing up
that's everybody's challenge. Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional. Rose said the idea was to grow up by "always finding opportunity in change".
Desiderata.happiness
On her inclination towards living it up, Rose said: "We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing."
Her four secrets to staying young -- being happy, desire to achieve success, having a sense of humour, and having a dream.
Her finale at the dinner was to entertain her young audience with "The Rose"; she challenged them to also learn the lyrics and live the spirit of the song.
I excerpted this from The Rose, by Bette Midler, hope it's the right track:
It's the heart, afraid of breaking,
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream, afraid of waking,
That never takes a chance.
Rose seized all opportunities to grow up and she never had regrets. She lived life to the fullest.
She dared to dream. She graduated at year's end, as the storyteller related. Soon after, little Rose passed on, and some 2,000 students attended her funeral to bid farewell, but Rose's spirit lived in all the hearts she generously gave a bit of herself.
Let's give Rose a Wow&Bow, at 87-young and her youthful spirit shining ever bright. Terima kasih to SH and Ms Tan for sharing, heart-to-heart.
PS: For the original account of The Story of a Rose, log onto:www.mybuddies.net; Enjoy!
3 comments:
In many cultures, an individual is not considered in terms of his age at all and the numbering of age is regarded as insignificant. It would do us all good – young, middle age and old alike – to forget the number of your years because so many of the beliefs are limiting in those ways. Youth is denied its wisdom and old age denied its joy.
Actually the point of reality and power is, once more, in our current experience. The old lady at her age is drawing upon qualities and knowledge that “existed” in her past or “will exist” in her future by acting as if the ages are probable (simultaneous).
Our own conclusions and beliefs about age become fact in our experience. If you could convince yourself that you were ten years younger, or ten years older, then it would be faithfully reflected in the environment.
The same pattern can be seen in the elderly and ideas of retirement. For hidden within them is the belief that at one time or another, at a specific age, your powers will begin to fail. These ideas are usually accepted by the young and old alike.
In believing them, the young automatically begin the gradual conditioning of their own bodies and minds and the results will be reaped. So to stay young, discard all the core beliefs about old age.
You're as dear as your darling name -- caring&sharing. I hold great hopes for Malaysia if our future generation are of the likes of you, forward-looking and passing on inspiration.
I remember a movie of thy name starring petite Audrey Hepburn (hope I'm right!) -- try rummaging through movie libraries and see you can catch it -- you just may see part of yourself in that character, my educated guess!
My answer is longer than the guest's short msg, but never mind, I'm in the mood to share with the YoungOnes -- bridging the gap, but writers always don't see age as a barrier -- as Rose is a prime example, finally it's all in the mind, as MWT so eloquently puts inI won't add any to MWT's superbly expressed thoughts that I term as prose poetry I wrote on just a few days back. I salute thee, kindred spirit.
via LINK hear!:) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zf5UfOuvQHQ
Some say love it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love it is a flower
And you it's only seed
It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed
That with the sun's love
In the spring
Becomes the rose