About Daviess County, KY

> > > > > > > This is great, take a moment to read it, it will make your > day! > > > > The ending will surprise you. > > > > A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of > art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They > would often sit together and admire the great works of art. > > > > > > When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. > He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. > The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son. > > > > About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a > knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his > hands. > > > > He said, 'Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for > whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was > carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died > instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.' The young man > held out this package. 'I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great > artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.' > > > > The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his > son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had > captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn > to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man > and offered to pay him for the picture.. 'Oh, no sir, I could never repay > what your son did for me. It's a gift.' > > > > The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time > visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before > he showed them any of the other great works he had collected. > > > > The man died a few months later. There was to be a great > auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over > seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for > their collection. > > > > On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer > pounded his gavel. 'We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. > Who will bid for this picture?' > > > > There was silence... > > Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, 'We want to > see the famous paintings. Skip this one.' > > > > But the auctioneer persisted. 'Will somebody bid for this > painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?' > > > > Another voice angrily. 'We didn't come to see this painting. > We came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandts. Get on with the > > Real bids!' > > > > But still the auctioneer continued. 'The son! The son! > Who'll take the son?' > > > > Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was > the longtime gardener of the man and his son. 'I'll give $10 for the > painting.' Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. > > > > 'We have $10, who will bid $20?' > > > > 'Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters.' > > > > The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture > of the son. > > > > > > > > They wanted the more worthy investments for their > collections. > > > > The auctioneer pounded the gavel. 'Going once, twice, SOLD > for $10!' > > > > A man sitting on the second row shouted, 'Now let's get on > with the collection!' > > > > The auctioneer laid down his gavel. 'I'm sorry, the auction > is over.' > > > > 'What about the paintings?' > > > > 'I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I > was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal > that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be > auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, > including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!' > > > > God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. > Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: 'The son, the son, who'll > take the son?' > > > > Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything

Beautiful story.... makes you understand that things happen for a reason The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn , arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. T hey worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. O n December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days. O n the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. T he pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity, so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church. B y this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. T hen he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria . T he woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten "The Tablecloth". The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria . When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and she never saw her husband or her home again. T he pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home. That was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job. W hat a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike? H e told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years between. T he pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. H e helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine. T rue Story -

MARRIAGE COUNSELING This is why men do not understand women....... A husband and wife came for counseling after 20 years of marriage.. When asked what the problem was, the wife went into a passionate, painful tirade listing every problem they had ever had in the 20 years they had been married. She went on and on: neglect, lack of intimacy, emptiness, loneliness, feeling unloved and unlovable, an entire laundry list of unmet needs she had endured over the course of their marriage.. Finally, after allowing this to go on for a sufficient length of time, The therapist got up, walked around the desk and, after asking the wife to stand, embraced and kissed her passionately as her husband watched with a raised eyebrow. The woman shut up and quietly sat down as though in a daze.. The therapist turned to the husband and said, 'This is what your wife needs at least three times a week. Can you do this?' The husband thought for a moment and replied, 'Well, I can drop her off on Mondays and Wednesdays, but on Fridays, I Golf.