Today I received an email from a friend who shared some absolute real-life gems about what "Love Is" from the mouth of babes...

We don't know where these words originated, but some of the responses obtained from these "babes" are so deep, I felt I simply had to share them with you.

Let them open the door to your heart ...
Something to think about now that Valentine's Day is looming just around the corner!

I copy/paste the text of the email and I say: Thank You so much, my dear friend Cath for sharing this with me...

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Slow down for three minutes to read this. It is so worth it.
Touching words from the mouths of babes. What does 'Love' mean?

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, 'What does 'love' mean?'
The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined.
See what you think:

'When my grandmother got arthritis,  she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore.
So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love..'
Rebecca- age 8
 
'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different.
You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'
Billy - age 4

'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.'
Karl - age 5
 
'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.'
Chrissie - age 6
 
'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.'
Terri - age 4
 
'Love is when my mummy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.'
Danny - age 7
 
'Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mummy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss'
Emily - age 8
 
'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.'
Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)
 
'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,'
Nikka - age 6 (we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)
 
'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.'
Noelle - age 7
 
'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.'
Tommy - age 6
 
'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.'
Cindy - age 8
 
'My mummy loves me more than anybody.You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.'
Clare - age 6
 
'Love is when Mummy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.'
Elaine-age 5
 
'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.'
Chris - age 7
 
'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day'
Mary Ann - age 4
 
'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.'
Lauren - age 4
 
'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.'
(what an image)
Karen - age 7
 
'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross.'
Mark - age 6
 
'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.'
Jessica - age 8
 
And the final one -- Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.

The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbour, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry'

When there is nothing left,  that is when you find out that  love is all you need.

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I hope these wonderful words have put a smile on your face... with that, I bid you goodnight or good day, wherever you are...

Smiles,

Emm
(PS: I took the above picture on a late summer's day along the promenade in a village nearby our home... just how lucky I was to catch the "posers" ...)

It’s been one of those days today! You know, when at the end of the day you wish you could start all over again MINUS the whatever that has been bugging you from the moment you opened your eyes.

Let me share...

I had developed a strange kind of toothache over the weekend which got so bad that I had to find an on-duty pharmacy on Sunday to get some heavy-artillery painkillers. Despite having a natural aversion toward “all that stuff” I needed to get the pain under control. As a one of our doctor-friends told us many years ago: although pain is a warning signal that something is wrong it also makes the body produce a lot of “bad” chemicals; so, if you can avoid it, do so! To cut a long story short: the medicine worked within fifteen minutes of ingestion and I was more or less pain-free until yesterday afternoon when I managed to squeeze in a “friends-only” appointment with our dear dentist here in Sofia.

Initial examinations revealed...NOTHING. No cavities, no tangible infection! The pain, which by then had returned, was surely not a figment of my imagination, so, what to do?

 A targeted intraoral X-ray to reveal what the bespectacled eyes could not detect seemed to be the right answer.  If I went to the lab right away I’d be able to get it done immediately. However, I’d had enough manipulation for the day, and we decided to schedule the appointment as top-of the agenda item for today, more precisely 9am this morning.

I managed to get through the evening and night without too much of a problem and after a particularly early start this morning walked out of the lab within less than a quarter of an hour following my arrival. No waiting queues... every patient’s idea of paradise! Back on my dentist’s chair I was faced with another oddity: the X-ray revealed... nothing! There were puzzled looks all over – was I imagining my pain? Did I perhaps suffer from the Phantom Pain Syndrome? I can assure you that this was most certainly not the case!

Dr Bee, as I affectionately call her, went into a brainstorming session with her husband, Professor Bee, who, over the years, has quietly assumed the role as Assistant Orthodontic Surgeon, despite having a series of degrees in construction engineering. They eventually agreed that the only way to find out what was causing my pain was by way of elimination, in other words, making sure what it could NOT be until there was only one answer left!  “We will have to check the vitality of Number Seven before we are sure that it is not Number Six that is causing the problem”, she told me with grave voice full of concern. I must have looked rather dumb, for she proceeded to pat me on the hand and continued “don’t worry, dear. We must do everything to save the tooth.” 

That’s why we love our Dr Bee – genuine concern for her patient’s wellbeing!  My facial expression must have been sufficiently wrought to prompt her into telling me that she had something special for the pain, something very natural and good. Her old Professor had told her all those years ago that it was the best thing to use against toothache.  The Magic Potion? Oil of cloves!  After treating me, which left me oh so heavenly pain-free, she proceeded to make a phone call. I just sat there, in The Hot Chair, staring out of the window into the misty grey winter sky, my attention caught by a pair of Blue Tits dancing and hopping from branch to branch in the leafless arms of the silvery birch tree that stood in the handkerchief-size bit of land between our block of flats and the neighbours’. Dr Bee’s voice started to fade into the background, along with Richard Clayderman’s gentle magic piano tunes, and I felt my eyelids become heavy...

“OK dear, I shall come with you!” The words pulled me back into reality with a jolt. I had briefly dozed off. Fancy falling asleep in your dentist’s chair... A first for me! I could go back to the hotel, have a rest and should return to her by 2pm. She would then take me to a colleague dentist, specialized in determining how much “vitality” –or life- was actually left in the suspected culprit-teeth.  The appointment was made for 2:30. It had been agreed by common consent that this would be the only way to distinguish the good ones from the bad ones; teeth I mean.

I did as I was told, returned to the hotel, had a much-welcomed break with my better half, who by the way finds it most upsetting when he sees me in pain, and then returned to Dr Bee for the next stage of the investigation. Another quick treatment with the good old Oil of Cloves to keep me smiling and off we went to catch a bus down to see Dr Magdalena.

At the end of the day it was all sorted out. The Professional Duo jointly established that the culprit (Number Six, by the way) sat sniggering under a brilliantly built crown, courtesy of Dr Bee back in 2005. Somehow, with age (how I hate that word!) the gums had started to recede slightly, thereby leaving sufficient room between gum and crown for the tiniest, tiniest pinhole to worm its way through the dentine into the pulp area, causing what’s known in the professional world as “pulpitis” – an inflammation of the tooth pulp or nerve, resulting in the waves of drumming pain that had caused so much misery during my weekend. I should not worry, it was felt that this was the reversible form of pulpitis and with a bit of luck I would be able to keep my crown after some careful treatment under Dr Bee’s butterfly fingers. By far the best news I’d had that day!

When we stepped back outside, into the misty winter afternoon, Dr Bee affectionately slipped her arm through mine and together we strolled to our bus stop, a few hundred meters down the road. We chatted, and I even managed a feeble attempt at cracking a joke – I could smile again! Dr Bee kept reassuring me that I was going to be ok and that she would save that tooth at any cost. She’d treat Number Six first with a paste ensuring the infection would subside and after 36 hours or so I should return. If I’d had only minimal pain, or better still, no pain at all until then, BINGO, she’d be able to get to the next stage of her plan: reverse the pulpitis, rebuild the inside of the crown by treating it with some special medicine that helps the tooth build up new dentine. Everything would then be sealed with a magic dental sealant, all the way from Japan... and I would be as good as new, well, nearly.

Was I happy with this? No need to embroider here... I’m delighted.

No invasive treatment, no additional pain, no additional cost ... and an outcome that I could only have hoped for:  teeth back into shipshape. 

And , pray tell me: where in the world to you get taken by your  dentist to see another dentist in order to make sure you only receive the very best of care...?

First: Do no harm!

A special message to all of you; in fact, more of a request.

I'd like you to spend a few moments and reflect about the "women" in your lives, be it your mother, your sister, your wife...
Let me tell you why I'm asking this of you...

Today I received 3 messages; two of which left me rather sad and upset, and one which I feel carries quite some weight and deserves deeper reflection....

On Facebook I learned that one of my friends had lost his mother on Christmas Day.
Although I don't personally know my FB friend or his mom, I have always appreciated his input and comments, and felt rather upset when I read that his mother had passed away on the very day we all expect people to be enjoying that special day together in the family fold.

A further e-mail advised me that a friend whose mother had been taken ill a couple of months ago, had in fact passed away on Boxing Day. I remember our friend writing to us a little while ago sharing with us his joy and delight at the prospect of being able to have his Mother back home before Christmas - she was getting better! Sadly her heart could not cope with things...

And then I found a further e-mail, this time from an old school friend of mine, who sent me a few kind words with her New Year's wishes and explained why she had not been in touch for some time. Her husband had dumped her during the summer after 30-odd years of marriage. He'd found the "younger and newer" model. Many years ago he'd done something similar, but she'd forgiven him... and the promises made then were obviously forgotten this time round. Despite all the pain and anguish, my friend is still able to find goodness and love within herself...

What really made me think and reflect was the attachment to her message - I have translated it from Dutch. It appears that the original message was in French - Author Unknown, but I cannot confirm this. Still, take a few minutes to read this note and give it some thought.

I dedicate this message to all the Women who need to find that "special person" hidden inside...

GRADUATES ...

"Do not worry if you cannot give your children everything that you dreamed you would.
Just give them the very best of yourself."

One day, a lady, called Anna, went to have her driver's licence renewed.
When she was asked what her profession was she hesitated and pondered the question.
She did not really know how to profile herself.

The official insisted: "What I need to know is whether you work, whether you have a job."
"Yes, of course I work!" Anna replied, "I'm a mother."
"I'm sorry, madam, but we do not consider that to be an occupation, so I shall write "housewife", the official said coldly.

Martha, Anna's friend, heard about this incident and thought about it for a while.

And then one day Martha found herself in the same circumstances, applying for a new driver's licence.
The female official before her appeared confident, efficient and very experienced.
The form to be filled in was long and seemed endless to Martha.
The first question was: what is your occupation?
"I am a graduate in Child Development and Human Relations" Martha answered without hesitation.

The official looked baffled and astonished, and when asked again, Martha repeated her answer word for word.
Having written this answer on the form, the young official then asked Martha:
"Would you mind telling me what you actually do?"

Without blinking an eyelid, Martha calmly and serenely replied:
"I am developing a thesis, a long-term project, both inside and outside home."

"Exactly what work does this involve?" the official curiously enquired.
Martha paused for a moment, pondering the question and then replied very casually, with her family on her mind:
"I am in charge of a team and have four very different projects on the go. I work full time, without a schedule and exclusively. The requirement is 14 hours per day, but it also happens that I'm on call 24 hours a day!"

As Martha continued to describe her responsibilities, she noticed that by the time the form was completed, the official's voice had acquired a much more respectful tone.

When she returned home, Martha was welcomed by her team: three girls aged 13, 7 and 3.
And when she went upstairs she could hear her latest project, the six month old baby, produce a totally new set of gurgling sounds.With a big smile Marha picked up her baby and held it close in her arms. She tought about the beauty and sheer majesty of motherhood, about her never-ending responsibilities and the endless hours spent doting on her charges.
"Mommy, where are my shoes? Mom, will you help me with my homework? Mom, the baby wont stop crying. Mommy, will you come pick me up from school today? Mom, can you take me to my ballet class? Mom, can you buy me ...? Mom ...?"

Seated on the edge of her bed, Martha was thinking, "If I'm a Graduate in Child Development and Human Relationships, then what do grandmothers qualify as?"
She soon thought of a suitable answer.
Grandmothers would be Senior Graduates in those fields.
And Great-grandmothers Senior Executive Graduates.
Aunties would be Assistant Graduates.
And all other women, mothers and wives would be Graduates, specialised in the Art of Life Improvement.

In a world where increasing importance is attached to titles and diplomas, where more and more targeted specialization is demanded in any field, it will pay you to become an EXPERT IN THE ART OF LOVING AND SHOWING AFFECTION!

Send this message to all the women you know.
Show them that at every moment of the day someone is thinking of them.
Make a woman smile and be happy ... today ... and always ...
Above all: BE HAPPY YOURSELF

With this, accept my very best wishes for a wonderful and fruitful 2011...
May it be bigger and better in every aspect than you could possibly hope for.

Smiles,

Emm