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Smile GOD loves you. Something from the heart....

a lesson can be learned here..[vkd]
----- Original Message -----
From: co.uk
To: V.K.Durham@
Sent: Thursday, April 11, 2013 11:00 PM
Subject: Fwd: Something from the heart....

Something from the heart....

Daddy's Poem
Her hair was up in a pony tail. Her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school, And she couldn't wait to go.

But her mommy tried to tell her,
That she probably should stay home;
Why the kids might not understand,
If she went to school alone.

But she was not afraid;
She knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates
Of why he wasn't there today.

But still her mother worried,
For her to face this day alone.
And that was why, once again,
She tried to keep her daughter home.

But the little girl went to school ,
Eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees, a dad
Who never calls.

There were daddies along the wall in
Back, for everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
Anxious in their seat.

One by one the teacher called
On a student from the class.
To introduce their daddy,
As seconds slowly passed.

At last the teacher called her name,
Every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
A man who wasn't there.

"Where's her daddy at?"
She heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one,"
Another student dared to shout.

And from somewhere near the back,
She heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad,
Too busy to waste his day."

The words did not offend her,
As she smiled up at her Mom.
And looked back at her teacher, who
Told her to go on..

And with hands behind her back,
Slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
Came words incredibly unique.

"My Daddy couldn't be here,
Because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be,
Since this is such a special day.

And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know
All about my daddy,
And how much he loves me so.

He loved to tell me stories,
He taught me to ride my bike;
He surprised me with pink roses,
And taught me to fly a kite.

We used to share fudge sundaes,
And ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him.
I'm not standing here alone.

'Cause my daddy's always with me,
Even though we are apart;
I know because he told me,
He'll forever be in my heart"

With that, her little hand reached up,
And lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat,
Beneath her favorite dress.

And from somewhere there in the crowd of dads,Her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter,
Who was wise beyond her years.
For she stood up for the love
Of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her,
Doing what was a right.

And when she dropped her hand back
Down, staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft,
But its message clear and loud.

"I love my daddy very much,
he's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here,
But heaven's just too far.

You see he is an American Soldier
And he died just this past year, ,
When a roadside bomb hit his convoy
And taught Americans to fear.

But sometimes when I close my eyes,
it's like he never went away."
And then she closed her eyes,
And saw him there that day.

And to her mother's amazement,
She witnessed with surprise,
A room full of daddies and children,
All starting to close their eyes.

Who knows what they saw before them;
Who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second,
They saw him at her side.

"I know you're with me Daddy,"
to the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers,
of those once filled with doubt.

Not one in that room could explain it,
for each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her,
was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.

And a child was blessed, if only for
a moment, by the love of her shining star.
And given the gift of believing,
that heaven is never too far.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.

Send this to the people you'll never forget and remember to send it also to the person that sent it to you. It's a short message to let them know that you'll never forget them.

If you don't send it to anyone, it means you're in a hurry and that you've forgotten your friends.

Take the time....to live and love.

Until eternity

God Bless

There must be many children in the same boat as this little girl, thanks to our servicemen and their families for the sacrifice they are making to keep our country free.

The ULTIMATE sacrifice is being left behind. Don't forget them. PRAY FOR OUR TROOPS!!!

Smile GOD loves you.


Eww 12.Apr.2013 07:20


Gag me with a spoon.

Pray for the people of Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya, Syria, and Iran 12.Apr.2013 10:39

Bin Laden didn't blow up the Towers

Sorry; I've been praying for the people of Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya, Syria, and Iran, and I've got nothing left for you.

ewww..... 12.Apr.2013 12:37


Gag me with a spoon!

No wonder 12.Apr.2013 20:51


No wonder the author is "unknown".

Don't Ya Just Love It 13.Apr.2013 09:04

Bobby Crider

Don't you just love the tolerance of others' views and commitment to diversity of the progressive haters posting on this thread.

gag you with a spoon, indeed, hypocritical assholes.

Why bother? 13.Apr.2013 14:53


If you can't pray for everyone, don't bother. Ain't nothing gonna change.

In most respects, people are the product of cultures. There are naturally-born sociopaths, but there are those that become sociopaths because of incidents that happen in their lives, and then there are those who allow themselves to be taught and led by sociopaths, inevitably leading to the latter of the first two cases. Doesn't one stop to think for a moment that maybe, just maybe, if the cultural landscape (thinking) was changed and we somehow quit holding the belief that to cross that landscape we need those of a sociopathic bent to guide us then all but in the first instance above may not be what they are and not in need of prayer? Come to think of it, it may be partially the acceptence of some of the ideas of our gods and what they might think of us that even gets us to this point...

One thing I learned a long time ago is that I'm not so sure that I would want to be led by myself, but it's something I'm stuck with as there is reasonably no other alternative in every circumstance. I ain't perfect. I get sick on seeing a military uniform though, almost literally, have had the decision of wearing one forced upon me (I disrespectfully declined), and realize that the poem might be purely propaganda, written by a sociopath of the first variety above. But in it all was the child, and though I'm of the opinion that the father in the instance portrayed has made his daughter a victim and is more than marginally responsible, if we can't see through that and have compassion for the kids, we're just plain lost. They're the ones we have to teach, or ain't noting gonna change. Praying hasn't done it yet, has it? After all, maybe who one really needs to pray for is themselves, that they have the courage to stand up and live what they believe every moment, not think that they're so much better that they can afford to waste the effort on others. That might really make a difference if everyone did that, and the prayers wouldn't be needed. Maybe your god is trying to tell you something you just don't get.

And you others, you might think about the lesson I talked about. If nothing else, learn to take the spoon out of your mouth before you try to swallow, or your head out of your ass before you type.

By the way, I'm not some patriot nut-case or a paid shill, not a christian or of any religion for that matter. Oh, shit, I shouldn't need to make justify myself here any more than anyone else and you'll think what you want to think anyway. Why bother, except the fact is that I obviously am bothered. Well, just think whatever you want, and we'll be done.

The poem's focus on US military orphans makes it propaganda. 13.Apr.2013 21:22

I don't buy it.

I'm assuming that the author of the poem wanted to make a special case about the child's deceased father having been a US soldier, which perhaps the author might think would have a more profound effect on readers than if her father were a civilian. Otherwise, why would the poem's author mention that the father was a US soldier?

That's why the poem is propaganda, and not just a poem about orphans. If the poem was simply about orphans, it would have mentioned all the orphans of war. Instead, the poem is a "special pleading" for the orphans of US soldiers. It's propaganda.

There have been lots of dead fathers, and dead children, in the Middle East, victims of the US wars of aggression. Who in the USA grieves for them, or prays for them?

When I have thoughts of grief or prayer for those who die in war, or for their surviving families, I'll start with the innocent victims, and finish with the aggressors.

God bless orphans everywhere; but I'm not going to focus on, or reserve a special sympathy for, the orphans of fathers who volunteered for aggression.

"You see he is an American Soldier
And he died just this past year, ,
When a roadside bomb hit his convoy
And taught Americans to fear."

Well, who taught the children and all the people of Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, Syria, and Palestine to fear the US, NATO, and Israeli troops, their cluster bombs, their white phosphorus bombs, their Predator drones, their armed checkpoints, their snipers, and their house-to-house raids?

Come back with a poem about all the orphans of war, and let's pray for them.

When fascism comes to America 14.Apr.2013 09:59

'Nuff Said

"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in a flag and carrying a cross." -- Upton Sinclair