email from Tissa Kappagoda

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: tissa kappagoda

Hi Philip!

This is the talk I gave in Galle.  On reading it again, it seems as if we are on a path we don't want to be.

http://ehealth.lk/gma/publication/2009/proceedings2009.pdf

Tissa

Christmas miracle, email from Gallege De Silva

Fw: CHRISTMAS MEMORIES: A Real Christmas Miracle!! Read all, it will touch your heart, enjoy.

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Gallege De Silva	17:12 (12 hours ago)

----- Forwarded Message -----

Sent: Monday, 24 December 2012 4:33 PM
Subject: CHRISTMAS MEMORIES: A Real Christmas Miracle!! Read all, it will touch your heart, enjoy.

CHRISTMAS MEMORIES: A Real Christmas Miracle

Christmas Miracle

by Susan Leonard

When I recall precious Christmas memories, I think of a very special story, one which represents the magic and glory of the season. This is a true story, as told to me by my husband -- a professional Santa Claus -- of a real Christmas miracle which he experienced. A story that I think will cause YOU to believe   ...

Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see my Santa at Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin. The child climbed up on his lap, holding a picture of a little girl.

"Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend? Your sister?"

"Yes, Santa," he replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly. Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

"She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!" the child exclaimed. "She misses you," he added softly.

Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas. When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but halted.

"What is it?" Santa asked warmly.

"Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa, but ...." the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors. "The girl in the photograph ... my granddaughter ... well, you see ... she has leukemia and isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she said through tear-filled eyes. "Is there any way, Santa ... any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa."

Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would see what he could do.

Santa thought of little else the rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in that hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart, "this is the least I can do."

When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant location manager how to get to Children's Hospital. "Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face. Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day. "C'mon .... I'll take you there," Rick said softly.

Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa. They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall.

Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed. The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's brother he had met earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And another woman who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with a weary, sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah.

Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!"

"Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him, IV tubes intact.

Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son -- 9 years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes.

His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room. As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "thank you" as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes.

Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year. As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands.

Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels. "Oh, yes, Santa ... I do!" she exclaimed.

"Well, I'm going to ask that angels watch over you," he said.

Laying one hand on the child's head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease. He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing softly, "Silent Night, Holy Night ... all is calm, all is bright." The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all.

When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail, small hands in his own. "Now, Sarah," he said authoritatively, "you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my house at   Mayfair Mall this time next year!"

He knew it was risky proclaiming that, to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he had to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE.

"Yes, Santa!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room.

Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed. Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and rushed to Santa's side to thank him. "My only child is the same age as Sarah," he explained quietly. "This is the least I could do." They nodded with understanding and hugged him.

One year later, Santa Mark was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap. "Hi, Santa! Remember me?!"

"Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her. After all, the secret to being a *good* Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the only child in the world at that moment.

"You came to see me in the hospital last year!"

Santa's jaw dropped. Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before.

He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.

That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus. He had witnessed -- and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of hope.

This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered,

"Thank you, Father. 'Tis a very, merry Christmas!"

Publisher's Note:: This story has circulated widely on the Internet over the last 3 years with "Author Unknown" in the byline. That was how I originally received the story and published it. With a sense of relief and gratitude I can now give credit where credit is due. The story was told by Mark R. Leonard, a professional Santa Claus and written by his wife, Susan Leonard, a.k.a "Mrs. Claus:" http://www.geocities.com/santa_mark/miraclestory.html.

No copyright infringement was or is intended.

HOW A BUDDHIST THERA VIEWS CHRISTMAS, email sent by Buddy Reid

A good reminder of ONE  of the important meanings of Christmas. He does remind me as a Christian that Jesus was both Human and Divine. I have highlighted the relevant sentence How a Thera views Christmas by Ven. Prof. Bellanwila – Wimalaratana Thera Chancellor – Sri Jayewardenepura University Christmas Day is the holiest day for all Christians, and Christians all over the world celebrate this Holy Day in pious solemnity and religious grandeur. The significance of Christmas is such that it is now generally considered a time that induces and encourages all to rise above petty divisions and bonds, for people to live in harmony and peace. But none of these features really highlights the true significance of Christmas. We have to give thought to find out what really is the true significance of Christmas. As a Buddhist I see Christmas Day as the day on which we have to ponder what exactly is humaneness. To Christians Jesus, born on Christmas Day, is the Son of God. But I see him as a great noble human being. The services rendered by him for the good and well-being of human kind is immeasurable. Having been born among human beings, living and growing-up among them, he spent all his life to serve human beings. If we consider his teachings from a rational perspective, we would see it not as a revelation but as an the expression concerning the true state of affairs prevailing in society, expressions voicing the experience he gained from society. He denounced injustice and inequality and always upheld and fought for justice and equality. His criticism aimed at oppressive acts done in the name of God and condoned by the prelates of the traditional Jewish ecclesiastical hierarchy clearly demonstrates his humanistic attitude. The following quote from Mathew (23) is a good example for this; Jesus said: “Woe to you, the teachers of the Law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs which look beautiful on the outside – but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” “You give a tenth of your spices – mint, dill and umin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the Law – justice, mercy and faithfulness.” The whole life of Jesus Christ was dedicated to bringing about an ethically good society, where the people would find peace and happiness; to free the average people from oppression of the privileged class. He said that poverty facilitates this meeting with God. He said: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew: 5) He said: “Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to entire the Kingdom of God.” (Matthew: 19) With such bold expressions Jesus tried to drive the point that a life of poverty founded on morality, is better than a life of affluence acquired through corrupt practices and illegal means. It is true that he had to pay with His life for been truthful and bold to speak up against evils and corruptions. Yet, through his noble life and conduct we see the glittering example of his incomparable humaneness. Therefore, the true significance of Christmas Day should be considered as connoting the sublime nature of humaneness. Christmas becomes beautiful not merely because of the attractive saleable items such as clothes that fill the shops; not because the roads are adorned with colourful electric bulbs that are lit along them. Churches do not become attractive on Christmas Day merely because of the Psalms sung in them. Homes do not become pleasant merely because of the delicious food items prepared in them to celebrate Christmas. Christmas Day becomes beautiful when the mind is freed from anger and revengeful feelings; when people are able to go beyond petty divisions of caste, creed and race; when corruption and injustice are shattered and when morals, justice and equality reign. With the end of terrorism that lasted almost for three decades Christians now celebrate Christmas throughout the island unhindered and with great pomp and solemnity. The message of Christmas is peace. But it should go deeper than mere superficial peace. Christmas Day will be more meaningful if we emphasize the importance of transgressing petty differences and co-existing peacefully. The most sublime and noble manner in which we could honour the great being born on this day is by turning ourselves into good human beings.

Jim Reeves - Golden oldies

Two beautiful 'Golden Oldies' of the 1960s. Listen to them and travel down memory lane. Click on each web-link and keep your loudspeakers high.

Silver bells:-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=stEjTFMb940&feature=youtube_gdata_player

I love you because:-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nECoA-uVGfw&feature=youtube_gdata_player

email from Gallege De Silva

A farmers paintings, he started painting at 16 years of age.

Click on web-link below:-

https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=gmail&attid=0.1&thid=13bc9859acf1c9f0&mt=application/vnd.ms-powerpoint&url=https://mail.google.com/mail/ca/u/0/?ui%3D2%26ik%3Df9f9290c98%26view%3Datt%26th%3D13bc9859acf1c9f0%26attid%3D0.1%26disp%3Dsafe%26zw&sig=AHIEtbTyzgxq7z2aXPRVZyc-3XaOUXPkxw

A CHRISTMAS STORY, email from Kamalini Kanapathippillai.

A TIME TO SHOW KINDNESS AND GOODWILL

He was tired and aching and on his way home from a long day at work, so he
almost didn't see the old lady stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day he could see she needed help.  So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out.  His old Pontiac was still sputtering as he approached her.
Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe; he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you.
 He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson."
Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.
Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Bryan never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.
He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, "Pass it on."
He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.
A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan ..
After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she noticed something written on the napkin.
There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote: "This isn't a tip, it's a gift.  You don't owe me anything. Somebody once helped me out and if you feel you want to pay me back, don't let this chain of love remain with you, pass it on."
Under the napkin were four more $100 bills. Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it to closing time.
That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it?  With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard....
She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a gentle kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's going to be all right. I love you, Bryan Anderson."



There is an old saying "What goes around comes around." Today I sent you this story, and I am asking you to pass it on. Let this light keep shining.

email from Sivarajah

Sivarajah, Dr. N - WRO SRL
23:29 (5 hours ago)

Hello Raja

Nice to hear and read your jokes - which I read in bits and pieces

Can I have a copy? Please send acopy to the address below

Meanwhile, What are you doing now? Still cracking jokes? or working some where? keep yourself occupied you will never grow old. Laughter is the best medicine

 Dr. N Sivarajah
Consultant / Coordinator, Jaffna Field Unit
WORLD HEALTH ORGANIZATION
123, Temple Road, Nallur Jaffna
Tel/ Fax : 021 222 6067
Mobile: 0777562715
Website: www.whosrilanka.org


Trouble, is only opportunity in work clothes" - Henry Kaiser
Have a good day!