An Eye Opener....!!!!

An Eye Opener....!!!!

rrrrhhhhh..Raaaajjjeeeessshhhh.... Raaaajjjeeeessshhhh. - what!! I woke up from a sudden jerk. Raaajeeessshhh.. .I heard my wife yelling. What s w/ her?

Always yelling for something or the other. I can t be in peace even in my dreams. Shucks!! Angrily, I kicked my blanket and got down. Raaajesssh.. Coming

Meera..what s w/ you. Why are you shouting like this.. .

I hurried down the stairs. I saw Meera, my sweet(??!!) wife, sitting in the couch giving breakfast to my 7yr old daughter Achala. Both looked happy,

watching TV. I got confused at the whole scenario. I came running down, expecting some kind of earthquake, but instead here everything was in place. I

looked at my wife & daughter. She smiled at me back. Now, I more got confused, what s happening here? Am I in a dream?

Meera. 

Yeah Rajesh. 

You called me. In fact yelled. 

Yes. You are right! 

Everything is fine here right? Why you screamed like that then. 

It s cos it s going to be 8am now. 

I couldn t understand what she was trying to say. Is she playing some kind of prank? Is this the time for all these? I have to be in office by 9am for

a meeting.

Yes. It s going to be 8am.Right! So.? 

Rajesh, don t tell me, you forgot.today is 27th 

27th..What 27th?

Don t tell me you don t remember? 

Meera gave me an I ll kill you look. Is it her birthday? No it s somewhere at the year end. Is it my daughter s? No no , we celebrated last month only

right. Got it. Should be our Anniversary.

Hey Meera, How will I forget our Anniversary. 

Whaattttttt????..Anniversaryyyyy???... 

Got it. It s not our anniversary. Before I get killed.What s w/ 27th. What ?? what?? Come on Rajesh!! Think. Nothing hit my mind. I looked at my daughter

for a clue. She turned her face away. What s with all women? Why can t they be straight forward & say things. With so much work pressure, how on earth

I am supposed to remember all the dates?. If I say something, then Meera will pick up a fight, and I will miss the meeting, my whole day will be gone.

I made up my mind to surrender.

Meera, Sorry, I don t remember. This medicine I am taking for cough, Something happened..my memory is deteriorating ..What s today? Meera doesn t seem

like buying that excuse from me.

Meera, please tell me I asked in a pitiable tone..

Rajesh..You don t remember at all? I moved my head left & right meaning NO. I kept my face like I am a patient suffering from amnesia .

Rajesh, As part of annual day celebrations, today is Daddy s Day in Acchu s school. I have been telling you for the past 3 weeks. Now don t tell me you

forgot. You already promised that you will go with her to her school 

I couldn t believe that I accepted for something like that. Meeraa..did I?? 

Yes. You did 

at what time it starts..? 

By 8:30am and ends at 1pm .

Gosh!! 9am!! I have such a critical meeting. How I will attend all these.

"Meera, you could have reminded me yesterday right? 

Oh I didn t remind you? Great. I didn t call to your office. Or remind you in the evening and before going to bed 

Might be I wouldn t have heard it. Or slipped out of my memory. Whatever!!

Meera! Can t you attend all these. Why should I?? 

"Rajesh. It s Daddy s Day!...DADDY ss!!!!! 

Oh yeah....but... 

But what????... 

errrh....might be some other day... 

What? You want the school to postpone the function? 

No..No.actually..what..I am saying is.. 

What Rajesh??? What?? Tell me. You promised Acchu and are you going to disappoint her? 

I stood there totally helpless. I looked at my daughter. She was all dressed up and ready to go. She looked like, she will cry any time. I saw Meera. She

gave me a murderous look. I thought for a moment and my mind raced with many calculations. Important meeting. I can t miss for sure. Half a day is too

much. So many deliverables will get affected. I can t face Meera again if I don t go. Might be I can postpone the meeting by an hour and for name sake

visit that function and escape to office.

Meera, I will go, but I can spend only 1 hour.. 

No...that s not.. 

Before Meera finished the sentence, Acchu rushed to me Thanks daddy. 1hour. Mom, 1hour is enough mom. Please don t fight mom. Daddy, get ready soon.. 

she nudged me.

Do you know her school name and the route for the school or you want me to tell??? Asking that Meera threw me an angry look and left the living room.

I rushed up, got ready. Called my manager & told that I got stuck in traffic jam and postponed the meeting to 10am.

I took Achala to her school. I felt somehow entering the school, cos it s the 2nd time, I am entering her school. In fact 1st time. I once dropped her

outside her school gate. The school had a big playground, Small Park with all kids playing equipments. Some stalls were put up. So many kids with their

fathers moved around here & there. Suddenly I felt some one touching my hand

Are you achala s daddy? - A small kid asked. She had curly hair and bubbly smile.

Yes,,,My Daddy... - Achala responded in an excited tone. And some kids ran towards me and Achala started introducing everyone.

Daddy! this is Rohit, this is zakir, Anis, Sylvia, Divya.. - I told hello to everyone.

Daddy, Daddy, Zakir is my best friend. - I smiled at that cute blue eyed boy.

Uncle, Acchu told that you have so much work and you won t be able to come. She told she won t come in today. You don t have work Uncle? - Zakir asked

me.

I suddenly felt very bad on how my daughter has understood me. No Zakir, I don t have work 

Daddy, they are calling for the games. . Zakir ran to his father and waved his hands at me & achala. I took achala by hand and walked towards the stage.

They were announcing the 1st game. Fathers will be given a sheet containing questions about their kids. Fathers have to fill about their kids which will

be verified with the kids response.

Achala was all excited about the game and she was all set to go. But I felt shivers. I looked at my daughter. Suddenly, I felt very far from her, and the

reality hit me, that I don t know anything about my very own daughter. I blurted out Acchu..we will attend the next game..This one .. She gave me a deep

stare. I thought she is going to cry or shout or do something. But instead she pulled out a small paper from her jeans pocket and gave it to me. Completely

baffled, I opened the sheet.

My name is Achala. My birthday March 21st. I am 7yrs old. I like butterfly. Superman. Dairy milk. painting. dancing. I am in 1st standard A section. I

like Dora. Mango. Apple. Fried rice. Jelly. I don t like banana. I drink boost.. I like yellow color. My nick name is Honey dew 

And the list went on with small, small spelling mistakes. I looked at Acchu. Daddy, read it, I know they will keep this game. So I wrote it 2 days back

itself, to give you if you come. If they ask anything about me, write there. Ok Now go & attend the game . Most of the things, my daughter has written

& gave me, I never knew anything about it. I suddenly felt a lump in my throat. I went to the stage waved my hand to Acchu and got the question sheet.

Since Acchu gave the sheet, I came to know about her & I answered almost all the questions. Then they asked Acchu on stage and asked the questions to her.

We got the 2nd highest mark in that game. Acchu came running towards me and hugged me. They gave a toy guitar . Everyone congratulated us. Thou I won

that game, I felt like a loser. I know, I don t deserve this. I don t know anything about my daughter.

She looked very happy showing that guitar to her best friend, zakir . What a kid she is. Understanding that her dad is totally hopeless and don t want to

let her dad down, before others she prepared that sheet and gave to me. The lump in my throat started getting bigger and my heart became heavy. I caressed

her hair. What a beautiful smile she has and such big eyes. Does she miss a wing to get qualified as an angel? I have never admired my daughter or even

watched her in all these years. She has that cute dimple of Meera s as well as her eyes. Does that curling lip edges when she smiles, is mine? How I missed

all this in my life.

Achala pulled me to the stalls there and I got some eatables and ballons for her and zakir.. She kept talking about the next game and suddenly my mobile

rang. Oops!! Is it already 10am. I looked at Acchu . Suddenly her face became dark. She looked totally upset and asked in an low voice Daddy! You have

to leave now? 

I looked at my mobile. My manager was calling. It s already 10am. I looked at Acchu. I looked around. All those happy kids with their fathers. I thought

about my school days, where my dad used to come for all sports day, annual day, sit with me, cheer me up. Every day morning, while dropping me to school,

he will wait near the gate until my head disappear. Evening, he will come & pick me up in his cycle, and I will be telling him all the stories that happened

that day in school.

I saw Acchu. How many untold stories my daughter has kept in her heart to say me? I thought about all those days, where I yearned for a girl child and I

wonder, how much of my time I gave her.

I pulled her closer, gave a kiss on her fore head No Honey! I am not going. I will be here only.we will attend all games and roam around whole day.ok? 

Really? - She asked in an unbelievable tone.

Yes sweetz 

Thank you Daddy! - Achala kissed my cheeks and ran to her friends. School teaches you something or the other always. This time, back to school has taught

me a wonderful life s lesson. I called my

manager & told that am running high fever and can t come in today. I know, I can handle things tomorrow. Today my daughter needs me more than anyone can

need me in this world. With a lighter heart, I got up; ran towards Acchu, lifted her and gave her a big swing. She erupted into an uncontrollable laughter.

The lump in my throat started melting away.

Give to the world the best you have and the best will come back to you ...!

Mom You Are Awesome

Letter from a newly married girl to her mother
Dear Maa
Like every normal girl, I was excited about
marriage right from my childhood days.. I never
thought beyond the time that I would spend
happily with my prince charming..
But today when I am married, I realize that
marriage is not all roses. It’s not just about
being with your beloved and having a gala time..
There is so much more to it. It comes with its
own share of responsibilities, duties, sacrifices
and compromises..
I can’t wake up anytime I want to. I am
expected to be up and ready before everyone
else in the family..
I can’t laze around in my pyjamas throughout
the day. I am expected to be presentable every
time..
I can’t just go out anytime I want to. I am
expected to be sensitive to the needs of the
family..
I just can’t hit the bed anytime I want to. I am
expected to be active and around the family..
I can’t expect to be treated like a princess but
am supposed to take care of everyone else in the
family. And then I think to myself, ‘why did I get
married at all?’ I was happier with you, mom..
Sometimes I think of coming back to you and
getting pampered again. I want to come home to
my favorite food cooked by you every evening
after a nice outing with friends. I want to sleep
on your laps like I have no worry in this world.
But then I suddenly realize, had you not got
married and made such sacrifices in your life, I
wouldn’t have had so many wonderful memories
to hang on to. And suddenly, the purpose of all
this becomes clear- to return the same comfort,
peace and happiness to my new family that I got
from you. And I am sure that as time would
pass, I would start loving this life equally as you
do. Thank you mom for all the sacrifices and
compromises you made. They give me the
strength to do the same.
Love you Mumma

SAVE THE INDIAN RUPEE...... SAVE OUR INDIA............

SAVE THE INDIAN RUPEE
YOU CAN MAKE A HUGE DIFFERENCE TO THE INDIAN ECONOMY BY FOLLOWING FEW
SIMPLE STEPS:-

Please spare a couple of minutes here for the sake of India .

I got this article from one of my friends, but it's true. I can see
this inday to day life.

Here's a small example:-

Before 12 months 1 US $ = INR Rs 39
After 12 months,  1 $ = INR Rs 52.73
After 24 months  1 $ = INR Rs 58.75
After 36 months now 1 $ = INR Rs 67.72

Do you think US Economy is booming? No, but Indian Economy is Going Down.

Our economy is in your hands....
INDIAN economy is in a crisis. Our country like many other ASIAN
countries, is undergoing a severe economic crunch. Many INDIAN
industries are closing down. The INDIAN economy is in a crisis and if
we do not take proper steps to control those, we will be in a critical
situation.

More than 30,000 crore rupees of foreign exchange are being siphoned
out of our country on products such as cosmetics, snacks, tea,
beverages, etc... which are grown, produced and consumed here.

A cold drink that costs only 70 / 80 paise to produce, is sold for
Rs.9 and a major chunk of profits from these are sent abroad. This is
a serious drain on INDIAN economy.

We have nothing against Multinational companies, but to protect our
own interest we request everybody to use INDIAN products only at least
for the next two years. With the rise in petrol prices, if we do not
do this, the Rupee will devalue further and we will end up paying much
more for the same products in the near future.

What you can do about it?

1. Buy only products manufactured by WHOLLY INDIAN COMPANIES.
2. ENROLL as many people as possible for this cause.....

Each individual should become a leader for this awareness. This is the
only way to save our country from severe economic crisis. You don't
need to give-up your lifestyle. You just need to choose an alternate
product.

All categories of products are available from WHOLLY INDIAN COMPANIES.

LIST OF PRODUCTS

COLD DRINKS:-

DRINK LEMON JUICE, FRESH FRUIT JUICES, CHILLED LASSI (SWEET OR SOUR),
BUTTER MILK, COCONUT WATER, JAL JEERA, ENERJEE, and MASALA MILK...

INSTEAD OF COCA COLA, PEPSI, LIMCA, MIRINDA, SPRITE

BATHING SOAP:-
USE CINTHOL & OTHER GODREJ BRANDS, SANTOOR, WIPRO SHIKAKAI, MYSORE
SANDAL, MARGO, NEEM, EVITA, MEDIMIX, GANGA , NIRMA BATH & CHANDRIKA

INSTEAD OF LUX, LIFEBUOY, REXONA, LIRIL, DOVE, PEARS, HAMAM, LESANCY,
CAMAY, PALMOLIVE

TOOTH PASTE:-
USE NEEM, BABOOL, PROMISE, VICO VAJRADANTI, PRUDENT, DABUR PRODUCTS, MISWAK

INSTEAD OF COLGATE, CLOSE UP, PEPSODENT, CIBACA, FORHANS, MENTADENT.

TOOTH BRUSH: -
USE PRUDENT, AJANTA , PROMISE

INSTEAD OF COLGATE, CLOSE UP, PEPSODENT, FORHANS, ORAL-B

SHAVING CREAM:-
USE GODREJ, EMAMI

INSTEAD OF PALMOLIVE, OLD SPICE, GILLETE

BLADE:-
USE SUPERMAX, TOPAZ, LAZER, ASHOKA

INSTEAD OF SEVEN-O -CLOCK, 365, GILLETTE

TALCUM POWDER:-
USE SANTOOR, GOKUL, CINTHOL, WIPRO BABY POWDER, BOROPLUS

INSTEAD OF PONDS, OLD SPICE, JOHNSON'S BABY POWDER, SHOWER TO SHOWER

MILK POWDER:-
USE INDIANA, AMUL, AMULYA

INSTEAD OF ANIKSPRAY, MILKANA, EVERYDAY MILK, MILKMAID.

SHAMPOO:-
USE LAKME, NIRMA, VELVETTE

INSTEAD OF HALO, ALL CLEAR, NYLE, SUNSILK, HEAD AND SHOULDERS, PANTENE

MOBILE CONNECTIONS:-
USE BSNL, AIRTEL

INSTEAD OF HUTCH

Food Items:-
Eat Tandoori chicken, Vada Pav, Idli, Dosa, Puri, Uppuma

INSTEAD OF KFC, MACDONALD'S, PIZZA HUT, A&W

Every INDIANproduct you buy makes a big difference. It saves INDIA .
Let us take a firm decision today.

BUY INDIAN TO BE INDIAN - We are not against of foreign products.

WE ARE NOT ANTI-MULTINATIONAL. WE ARE TRYING TO SAVE OUR NATION. EVERY
DAY IS A STRUGGLE FOR A REAL FREEDOM. WE ACHIEVED OUR INDEPENDENCE
AFTER LOSING MANY LIVES.
THEY DIED PAINFULLY TO ENSURE THAT WE LIVE PEACEFULLY. THE CURRENT
TREND IS VERY THREATENING.

MULTINATIONALS CALL IT GLOBALIZATION OF INDIAN ECONOMY. FOR INDIANS
LIKE YOU AND ME, IT IS RE-COLONIZATION OF INDIA . THE COLONIST'S LEFT
INDIA THEN. BUT THIS TIME, THEY WILL MAKE SURE THEY DON'T MAKE ANY
MISTAKES.

WHO WOULD LIKE TO LET A "GOOSE THAT LAYS GOLDEN EGGS" SLIP AWAY?

PLEASE REMEMBER: POLITICAL FREEDOM IS USELESS WITHOUT ECONOMIC INDEPENDENCE

RUSSIA , S.KOREA , MEXICO - THE LIST IS VERY LONG!! LET US LEARN FROM
THEIR EXPERIENCE AND FROM OUR HISTORY. LET US DO THE DUTY OF EVERY
TRUE INDIAN.

FINALLY, IT'S OBVIOUS THAT YOU CAN'T GIVE UP ALL OF THE ITEMS
MENTIONED ABOVE. SO GIVE UP AT LEAST ONE ITEM FOR THE SAKE OF OUR
COUNTRY!

We would be sending useless forwards to our friends daily. Instead,
please forward this mail to all your friends to create awareness.

"LITTLE DROPS MAKE A GREAT OCEAN ."

Heart Breaking ImAge By an Iraqi Artist Taken in an Orphanage.

Heart Breaking  ImAge By an Iraqi Artist Taken in an Orphanage..
This little GiRl has never seen her Mother, So she DreW a MoM On The Ground and fell sleep wid her..


Apreciate wat u have,since u dnt knw wat u have got until its taken away From U......
Thats Wen its Too LaTe.....

A STUPID EMPLOYEE

For all Employees...

All of you who have seen the movie "A Wednesday".. will love these rephrased Naseerudin Shah Dialogue’s...

Manager:- Kaun ho tum..??? Kya pehchan hai tumhari ?

Unknown Employee: Kaun hoon main..!!! Mein woh hu jo aaj committment karne se darta hai, Main woh hoon jo aaj ghar jaane se darta hai, Yeh soch ke kahin ghar wale pehchaan ne se inkar na kar de...

Main woh hoon jo, Aaj job change karta hai to sochta hai ki kahin recession mein mujhe company se naa nikal de..

Main woh hoon jiski biwi use roz 10 bar phone karti hai, "kya kar rahe ho..?? kaam jyada hai..?? thak gaye ho..?? "
Mera haal poochhne ke liye ya kaam poochhne ke liye nahi,.. Balki woh yeh jaananaa chahti hai ki... Mein field mein kaam kar raha hun ya pressure mein aakar kahin baithkar daru pee raha hun...

Main woh hoon jo breakfast ke time pe dinner karta hai, lunch time pe breakfast karta hai, dinner ke time pe lunch karta hai.. woh bhi time mil jaye to...

Main woh hoon jo aksar phasta hain.. Kabhi Interviews ke sawaal me phasta hai , Kabhi Badi companiyon ke jaal me phasta hai, kabhi boss ke bawaal me fasta hai.

Walk-In interview ki bheed to dekhi hogi aapne... Uss bheed me se koi bhi chehra chun lijie.. Main woh hoon..

I'm the….. JUST A STUPID EMPLOYEE...!!!

The Most Beautiful Flower

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to
read.
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old
willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all
tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted
down.
And said with great excitement, "Look what I
found!"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful
sight,
With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or
too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off
to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side.
And placed the flower to his nose and declared
with overacted surprise,
"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never
leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just
what I need."
But instead of him placing the flower in my
hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first
time.
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was
blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun.
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
"You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off
to play,
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to
see.
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow
tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with
true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could
see.
The problem was not with the world; the
problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been
blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
And appreciate every second that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my
nose.
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful
rose.
And smiled as I watched that young boy,
Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old
man.

The Letter in the Wallet

The Letter in the Wallet 

It was a freezing day, a few years ago, when I stumbled upon a wallet in the street. There was no identification inside. Just three dollars, and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been carried around for years.

The only thing legible on the torn envelope was the return address. I opened the letter and saw that it had been written in 1924 — almost 60 years ago. I read it carefully, hoping to find some clue to the identity of the wallet's owner.
It was a "Dear John" letter. The writer, in a delicate script, told the recipient, whose name was Michael, that her mother forbade her to see him again. Nevertheless, she would always love him. It was signed Hannah.

It was a beautiful letter. But there was no way, beyond the name Michael, to identify the owner. Perhaps if I called information the operator could find the phone number for the address shown on the envelope.

"Operator, this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet I found. Is there any way you could tell me the phone number for an address that was on a letter in the wallet?" The operator gave me her supervisor, who said there was a phone listed at the address, but that she could not give me the number. However, she would call and explain the situation. Then, if the party wanted to talk, she would connect me. I waited a minute and she came back on the line. "I have a woman who will speak with you."

I asked the woman if she knew a Hannah.
"Oh, of course! We bought this house from Hannah's family thirty years ago."

"Would you know where they could be located now?" I asked.

"Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home years ago. Maybe the home could help you track down the daughter."

The woman gave me the name of the nursing home. I called and found out that Hannah's mother had died. The woman I spoke with gave me an address where she thought Hannah could be reached.I phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home. She gave me the number. I called and was told, "Yes, Hannah is with us." I asked if I could stop by to see her. It was almost 10 p.m. The director said Hannah might be asleep. "But if you want to take a chance, maybe she's in the day room watching television." The director and a guard greeted me at the door of the nursing home. We went up to the third floor and saw the nurse, who told us that Hannah was indeed watching TV.

We entered the day room. Hannah was a sweet, silver-haired old-timer with a warm smile and friendly eyes. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw it, she took a deep breath. "Young man," she said, "this letter was the last contact I had with Michael." She looked away for a moment, then said pensively, "I loved him very much. But I was only sixteen and my mother felt I was too young. He was so handsome. You know, like Sean Connery, the actor."

We both laughed. The director then left us alone. "Yes, Michael Goldstein was his name. If you find him, tell him I still think of him often. I never did marry," she said, smiling through tears that welled up in her eyes. "I guess no one ever matched up to Michael..."

I thanked Hannah, said good-bye and took the elevator to the first floor. As I stood at the door, the guard asked, "Was the old lady able to help you?"

I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I probably won't pursue it further for a while." I explained that I had spent almost the whole day trying to find the wallet's owner.While we talked, I pulled out the brown-leather case with its red-lanyard lacing and showed it to the guard. He looked at it closely and said, "Hey, I'd know that anywhere. That's Mr. Goldstein's. He's always losing it. I found it in the hall at least three times."

"Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked. "He's one of the old-timers on the eighth floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet, for sure. He goes out for a walk quite often."

I thanked the guard and ran back to the director's office to tell him what the guard had said. He accompanied me to the eighth floor. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.

"I think he's still in the day room," the nurse said. "He likes to read at night...a darling old man."

We went to the only room that had lights on, and there was a man reading a book. The director asked him if he had lost his wallet. Michael Goldstein looked up, felt his back pocket and then said, "Goodness, it is missing."

"This kind gentleman found a wallet. Could it be yours?"

The second he saw it, he smiled with relief. "Yes," he said, "that's it. Must have dropped it this afternoon. I want to give you a reward."

"Oh, no thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet."

The smile on his face disappeared. "You read that letter?"

"Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is."

He grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was?" I hesitated.

"Please tell me!" Michael urged.

"She's fine, and just as pretty as when you knew her."

"Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow."

He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something? When that letter came, my life ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her."

"Michael," I said. "Come with me." The three of us took the elevator to the third floor. We walked toward the day room where Hannah was sitting, still watching TV. The director went over to her.

"Hannah," he said softly. "Do you know this man?" Michael and I stood waiting in the doorway.

She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word.

"Hannah, it's Michael. Michael Goldstein. Do you remember?"

"Michael? Michael? It's you!"

He walked slowly to her side. She stood and they embraced. Then the two of them sat on a couch, held hands and started to talk. The director and I walked out, both of us crying.

"See how the good Lord works," I said philosophically. "If it's meant to be. It will be." Three weeks later, I got a call from the director who asked, "Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Yup, Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!"

It was a lovely wedding, with all the people at the nursing home joining in the celebration. Hannah wore a beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. The home gave them their own room, and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 78-year old groom acting like two teen-agers, you had to see this couple.

A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years