Service
Freedom Isn’t Free
Monday, July 5th, 2010 | Losing a loved one, Patriotism, Service | 1 Comment
I remember standing on the top step of our elementary school stage, singing that song with all my heart at our annual musical patriotic assembly. I loved those songs, and I can still remember some of the lyrics:
“Freedom isn’t free,
Freedom isn’t free,
You have to pay the price, you’ve got to sacrifice,
For your liberty.”
My father was an Air Force pilot, and flew combat missions in the Korean Conflict. My mother followed him from base to base as he served in the military, and he retired shortly after I was born, so I was the first of their children to live in the same house for my entire childhood.
Moving constantly wasn’t easy – but my parents willingly made that sacrifice. They were serving their country.
Dad taught us to stand and place our hands on our hearts whenever the flag went by. He was very precise about how we were to treat the flag, too. We always had a flag in the front hall closet, and it was flown in front of our home frequently.There was a specific way to fold it when we were putting it away, and if it wasn’t done right, we did it again.
There were eight of us kids when Mom and Dad would take us on trips around the country, and we’d always stop in at the homes of men Dad had served with while he was on active duty. I loved listening to them reminiscing about the missions they’d flown together, their commanding officers, funny things that had happened, and then, about their buddies who didn’t come back from missions. There was always a painful pause in the conversation when they started talking about that.
I would always think, “What about their families? What happened to them? I’m so glad my dad came back.” I would wonder what it must have been like to be raising a family while men were going away to serve, never knowing for sure if they would return.
That was almost fifty years ago. Now, I see men in my own neighborhood in uniform, leaving for extended periods of time to go across the ocean to foreign lands. It is happening again. And, again, I wonder, what about their families? What will happen to them?
I cannot predict – but I know there are some things I can do to help. I believe in prayer. I can pray for them and their families. I can let them know I am thinking about them and keeping them in my prayers.When I see a soldier, I can tell him thank you, and let him know that I realize he is making a sacrifice that not every man would make.
I can strive to be informed, and to pray for our leaders to make wise decisions when it comes to what our servicemen do. And I can live the best I can, and influence my children and grandchildren to live the best they can, so that our world will be a little bit better place, and so peace will reign in just a few more places. Because I believe that every place there is peace blesses the world. If we want freedom, we have to live to deserve it.
A people without morality, without self-restraint, without civility, and without faith do not deserve the freedom they claim. And it will not come to them, because after all, freedom isn’t free.
True freedom is only found when morality, self-restraint, civility and faith are in place.
May we all live to see those virtues re-enshrined in the hearts of the people in this great country. And may that begin today, as we each commit to live them better in our own lives.
Freedom isn’t free.
Let’s pay the price.
To Freedom!
-Roslyn
Grieving on Memorial Day
Friday, May 28th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Family, Friends, Grieving, Grieving during the Holidays, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Losing a loved one, Losing a parent, Loss of a loved one, Personal Care while Grieving, Service, The Healing Power of Service, Uncategorized | No Comments
Memorial Day Weekend. When we hear those words, we often think of a time to honor those who have given their lives in the service of our country. Those words also often conjure up images of picnics, campouts, gatherings with friends, and lots of food and fun.
Other pictures comes to mind, however: a woman, weeping as she kneels with a handful of flowers at the fresh grave of her husband; a man at the cemetery, standing by the marker bearing his wife’s name and wondering how he can go on. To these people, Memorial Day has a very different meaning.
This Memorial Day, are you (or is someone you know) grieving the loss of a loved one who is no longer with you? Are you still at the stage of grief where your emotions are unpredictable, you live with a perpetual ache in your heart, and you never know when the tears will suddenly surface again?
Memorial Day can be a hard day for those who’ve experienced loss. But there are things you can do to help make it through this weekend – and that will help you move on with life. Here are five tips to begin with:
First, grieve. Grieving is painful, unpredictable, and it can be a long process. No wonder people want to avoid it. However, grieving is part of the healing process, and if we refuse to work through our grief, we will never heal completely.
Allow yourself to grieve. Find a place where you can let the tears flow and the racking sobs descend. You will find that as you do, there is a cleansing and a renewal that takes their place.
Author Deanna Edwards tells of the young child who said about grief, “Tears are what God gave us to let the hurt out.” Admit that the void in your life hurts, and that it’s okay to hurt. As a wise man once said there would be something wrong if we didn’t hurt when a loved one dies. Take the time to grieve, and eventually, if you embrace the grieving process, it will bring renewal and peace.
Second, reach out and find a friend. Find someone you can talk to, who understands what you’re going through, and talk. Share your sorrows; share what helps you each get through hard times, and you’ll both come away stronger. Sometimes the very best gift we can be given when we are mourning is a listening ear, and understanding without judgment.
Third, write! Take out a pen and paper, find a quiet spot where you can be uninterrupted, and remember. Record the good things that came from your relationship with that loved one. Write what you appreciated about them. Write about some of your favorite memories with them. One day these memories will not be so fresh, and you will be grateful that you took the time now to create something you can look back on and find joy in remembering.
Fourth, get moving! When we are grieving, often the most appealing activity is no activity at all. It is so tempting to crawl into bed, pull the covers over one’s head, and retreat. But grieving is not just emotional work. It involves the whole body, and exercise helps move the process along more quickly. Walk, run, garden, get out the yoga CD and follow along – just do something to move your body and get the endorphins flowing. Movement will help banish the blues and help you to look at life from a much more positive perspective.
Finally, serve someone in memory of your loved one. Even if it is a very small thing, find something you can do for someone else to lift their burden. The old adage “It is better to give than to receive” is true – and how better to honor the memory of the one you loved than to do a kind deed in their memory. Einstein said, “The only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and learned how to give.” Many people have found that looking outside their own troubles, if only for a few minutes, and finding a way to give to someone else, truly has brought them comfort and happiness.
Make this Memorial Day memorable, by grieving when you need to; finding a friend to confide in; writing about your loved one; moving; and serving. As you do, you will find you make cherished memories yourself, and you will be further along on the path to healing, wholeness, and peace.
In Loving Memory . . .
Wednesday, May 26th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Family, Grieving, Grieving during the Holidays, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Losing a loved one, Losing a parent, Loss of a loved one, Service, The Healing Power of Service, Unshaken Faith in Trials | No Comments
What will Memorial Day be like for you this year?
I know it will be very tender for me. Mom’s funeral was just last week, and I am still in that cocoon of early grief that I am not ready to emerge from. I find that it surrounds me with sweet memories, allows me frequent tears, and insulates me from feeling guilt for not being fully engaged in ‘regular life’ just yet.
I have heard people say this weekend is a depressing one for them. Too many memories, too many reminders that their loved one is no longer at their side. I can understand.
However, I have an invitation to extend. To bring a sweet moment to your weekend, rather than allowing your mourning to take over for the entire weekend, choose a time to find one way to honor your loved one.
It is one way for their influence to live on. If, because of our loved one, we are out in the world doing good in their memory, the world is still a better place because they lived.
Paul, instructing the saints in Galatia how to find their greatest happiness and peace offered the following counsel: “…by love serve one another.” We can do the same. Make a difference for someone else – create a bright spot in someone’s day; place a call to someone you know needs a lift; contact a humanitarian center and volunteer a couple of hours; deliver a handful of flowers to someone who is down. Your service can be done anonymously, or out in the open – you choose.
And do it in loving memory of your loved one.
Yes, they are gone – but we are still here, and I believe that we each have something good to give to the world. No matter how small our offering may seem, we need to give it – for the world’s sake, and for our own.
I think I’ve decided what I’m going to do. I am getting excited thinking that those who’ve gone beyond this life may be able to look down and smile that we are remembering them this way.
I know I’m going to look heavenward and whisper,
“This one’s for you!”
In loving memory,
Roslyn
P.S. Once you’ve completed your service, I invite you to my facebook page (search “SOLO – Getting It All Together”) to post what you did – remember you can do it anonymously if you wish – and let’s share what good was brought into the world in memory of those we are remembering!
“That’s what you hang onto . . .”
Monday, May 17th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Family, Friends, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Losing a loved one, Losing a parent, Loss of a loved one, Service, Unshaken Faith in Trials | No Comments
Thursday was Mom’s funeral. What sweet memories have flooded my mind since that hour! At the viewing beforehand, people coming through the line told us of many ways Mom had influenced them for good, and of their love and respect for her. At the service, each of my siblings and I were able to take part in some way, and as each brother or sister spoke or sang or played I felt a wave of gratitude to be Mom’s daughter, and their sister, and that I am part of this loving family.
Each talk focused on the different ways Mom’s life blessed and lifted others, and how her example can help each of us make a difference for those around us. The thought came repeatedly to mind that we have no idea how much time we each have on this earth, and how fleeting time can be, and that if we are to be like Mom, we need to be focused on doing whatever good we can in the time that we have.
I remembered a poem I learned in my youth:
Do all the good you can
By all the means you can
In all the ways you can
For all the people you can
In whatever place you can.
Mom did. Wherever she went, she left a trail of goodness.
As the crowd left the flower-bedecked graveside, I stood next to my Uncle Wayne. My emotions were close to the surface, and I found it hard to speak. He noticed and said, “You know, you’ll find that one day, the pain leaves – and the beautiful memories come flooding in – and that’s what you hang onto.”
He is right. I didn’t even have to wait until the pain left. In spite of the ache in my heart, beautiful memories are flooding into my mind – and I am cherishing them.
Thanks for the memories, Mom. Thanks for a great life, well-lived. Thanks for raising me with the knowledge that this life isn’t the end, and that I will see you again. That future meeting will be an added incentive to live like you did, so I can be with you once more.
I love you Mom. You’ll ever be close to my thoughts.
Hanging on to the memories,
Roslyn
In God’s Hands
Monday, April 19th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Family, Grieving, Help for Widows, Service, The healing power of Faith in Christ, Unshaken Faith in Trials | 3 Comments
During the first days after my husband drowned, I felt like I was plodding through life; surrounded by a cloud of confusion and grief, relying on God’s hands to carry me through each day. Only the knowledge that He was there, supporting me, helped me find hope in the future.
Three days ago my step-father called me.
“Ros, there’s something wrong with your mother.”
I stopped what I was doing and drove immediately over to their home, twenty minutes away.
I found Mom, age 88, in her recliner, head bowed, slowly rocking. I took her hand.
“Mom, it’s Ros…”
No response.
Dad told me she’d been like that for over six hours – not answering when he talked to her, not responding to anything he said or did.
My brother-in-law Brian arrived and we rushed her to the hospital, where they quickly took her back and began the assessment and testing process.
As the evening wore on, family members began to arrive at the hospital. The doctors took Mom away for a brain scan, and after diagnosing the results, the doctors called us together for a family meeting.
“Your mother has had a subdural hemorrhage, and the pressure it is putting on the brain is causing loss of function. We could do surgery to drain it, but due to her age and physical condition, she most likely wouldn’t survive the surgery. Without the surgery, because she can’t swallow and has lost so many other functions, she may live for ten days – maybe less. Your family needs to make some decisions.”
Dad began weeping, and the rest of us all looked at each other as the doctor left the room to give us time to discuss the options. We referred to Mom’s living will, and realized that if we were to honor her wishes, we would not put her through the surgery. We decided to do all we could to make her last days comfortable. Financially, a care center wasn’t really an option – so we chose to have her transferred to my home so I could help care for her while caring for my children who are still living at home.
We met with the Hospice team; those compassionate people who help make the end-of-life process as bearable as possible. Arrangements were made; the hospital bed was delivered, and soon the medical transport team arrived and brought Mom in on a gurney.
As I watched her being carried in, I wondered what the next days would hold. Would I be able to provide the care she needs? The aides will only be here for a few minutes each day, and other than that, Mom’s care is up to me. How will I handle it? What will it be like to care for her as she approaches the final curtain of death, and enters the next stage life?
I find I am apprehensive and unsure. Can I deal with death this closely? I have to trust that God will give me the strength to do what needs to be done.
Once again, my life journey is heading uphill. I pray for strength and courage as the ascent steepens, and as, once again, I take one plodding step after another into the darkness.
Once again in God’s hands,
Roslyn
A String of Beads
Wednesday, March 24th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Friends, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Personal Care while Grieving, Service, The Healing Power of Service | No Comments
I saw it as I passed the piano—the string of white beads she had borrowed to wear to church yesterday, and my heart ached.
I just drove her to the airport an hour ago to catch her plane back to Washington, DC, and now there is a tangible absence in our home.
It seems like ever since Marty died, the children and I are a little more tender about absence from each other. We crave togetherness, and we dislike separation.
Maybe it is because we have felt the pain of loss, and we want to cherish every moment together possible. Shakespeare’s Juliet says, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” I have yet to find the sweetness there.
When those who live away from home come visit, their presence lights up our home, and gives us all something more to smile about.
When they leave, we feel like a light has gone out and our hearts are heavy. We have to start in on a project, put in some cheerful music, or, on difficult days, curl up in the chair with a warm blanket and retreat into a great book for awhile to lessen the hurt.
Today, I can tell I need to look outside myself, beyond the pain in my heart, and seek to do something that will brighten someone else’s day.
I’m going to get dressed, put on fresh makeup, and go visit someone. Maybe I’ll even wear those beads.
Hoping for your healing,
Roslyn
Mrs. Dunwoody’s Excellent Instructions for Homekeeping
Wednesday, May 20th, 2009 | Building Self-Confidence, Friends, Healing after Loss, Service, The Healing Power of Service, Womanly Arts | 1 Comment
When I saw that title on my daughter’s bookshelf, I was instantly intrigued. I have always been drawn to books about homemaking, housekeeping, and creating beauty at home. Those with an old-fashioned bent are my favorites – I think in our fast-paced world “making a home” has lost some of the charm it once held in years past. I am reminded of that charm each time I visit the home of one of my aunts. Nearing her eightieth birthday, she still loves to practice the disappearing art of hospitality.
When I arrive at her door, she welcomes me with open arms, and invites me to sit on her couch. We visit; she wants to know all about what I’m doing, and to hear about each of the children, and then she invariably leads me into the kitchen where she has something delectable waiting to share with me. Lately, she sits and watches as I eat, instead of joining me. “My waistline, you know,” she says, with a twinkle in her eye.
She has had her share of disappointment and sorrow in her life. She lost a son to cancer, an extremely difficult trial for her.
But through her disappointments, through all the difficulties life has brought her way, she has remained giving and generous, always ready to extend an invitation to ‘come visit.’
Perhaps she knows something we all could learn from. Perhaps she finds healing and comfort in creating a place of peace, and in sharing it. Perhaps the chance to focus on and serve another lifts her heart and, for a few moments, her sorrow is replaced with the joy that comes from lifting another soul.
I believe that is true. I believe there is healing in making our homes places where those who enter (including ourselves) can feel peace. I believe as we find ways to increase our enjoyment in doing so, we will feel more fulfilled, and we will discover a desire to reach out and share that peace with others.
Homemaking (or “Homekeeping” as author Miriam Lukken calls it) is one way we express our love for and serve those who share or visit our homes. Maybe Mrs. Dunwoody’s Excellent Instructions and other similar books can remind us of that scriptural admonition, “when ye are in the service of your fellow men, ye are only in the service of your God.”
And maybe then we will be reminded, once again, that the surest way to peace and healing and happiness in this life is through serving others.
Not me!
Monday, March 23rd, 2009 | Service, The Healing Power of Service, Unshaken Faith in Trials | No Comments
I recently heard a story of a young child in a class on Sunday. The woman who was leading the discussion had been teaching the children the song “If The Savior Stood Beside Me” by Sally Deford.* She asked the children, “If you could see the Savior standing next to you, what would you do differently?”
Several children raised their hands and offered their answers, ranging from being nicer to siblings to being more obedient to their parents.
Then one small child raised his hand and said, “Not me! I wouldn’t do anything different!”
Oh, to be able to say that – and to say it with confidence!
In the book Les Miserables, the good Bishop of Digne, lived so that he could say that. When Jean Valjean, an ex-convict, seeks shelter in the bishop’s home, the Bishop treats Valjean with the same kindness and courtesy he would a nobleman. When Valjean expresses his disbelief at being so treated, the bishop explains;
This house is not mine but Christ’s. It does not ask a man his name but whether he is in need. You are in trouble, you are hungry and thirsty, and so you are welcome…Let me assure you, passer-by though you are, that this is more your home than mine. Everything in it is yours. Why should I ask your name? In any case i knew it before you told me.
“The man looked up with startled eyes. ‘You know my name?’
‘Of course,’ said the bishop. ‘Your name is brother.’”
If we could see clearly we would see that we are all, truly, brothers and sisters. How our interactions would change if we remembered that!
May we each live each day so that we can, with assurance, say that we wouldn’t have to do anything differently if we could see the Savior standing there, where He actually is, right next to us.
In His love,
Roslyn
* see www.defordmusic.com
Moses
Thursday, February 12th, 2009 | Service, The Healing Power of Service | No Comments
Moses died last night.
When I heard, my heart ached, and I wept.
I gaze at a photo of Moses, standing next to his tall, strong, adoptive brother Timothy. Moses looks unusually hefty for an African orphan. But looks can be deceiving. The heft is not muscle and healthy tissue, but edema. The photo was taken just after Moses had left the hospital where he’d been treated for kidney failure, which had made his body bloat to nearly twice its normal size.
He still appeared bloated. He should have stayed on dialysis longer, but Timothy didn’t have the necessary funds. So Moses came ‘home’.
Where is home?
Moses doesn’t remember his first home. He was told that both his parents died shortly after his birth, presumably from AIDS.
The first home Moses remembers was with his aunt, who had taken Moses in to use as her houseboy, until they were evicted for failure to pay rent. His aunt then took Moses to a taxi park, instructing him to sit there in one position until she returned from getting “something she’d forgotten back home.” She never returned.
He sat most of the day until it became too painful to sit in the same position, and until his hunger became too insistent, and he began wandering the streets in search of food and a place to stay. He found a polythene bag to use for a blanket, and slept in water trenches for a refuge.
Timothy, born and raised by educated parents in Uganda, felt as early as sixth grade that he had a mission to help AIDS orphans, orphans from war-torn areas, and street children. He has since set up an orphanage and school to help provide a place of safety and hope for them.
Timothy came upon Moses, age 8, on September 13, 2007, as he was being dragged and beaten by a hungry mob, being accused of snatching a lady’s handbag. Timothy pled on Moses’ behalf, and was forced to pay 5,000 shillings to a police officer so he would intervene for Moses. Then he had to pay 20,000 shillings for the contents in the lost handbag before they would release Moses.
As Timothy directed Moses away from the mob, he asked Moses what had happened. Moses, between sobs, told him life on the streets was “too difficult than sitting on a burning stove”.
In his halting, tearful voice, Moses described the hierarchy on the streets, and how the ‘untouchables’ (those who have seniority and experience on the streets) harass the young and the newcomers, and make them do their bidding, from begging from passers-by to stealing. Moses had been ordered to steal the woman’s purse, and then the purse had been taken from him.
Timothy took Moses to see a doctor to get treatment for his injuries sustained in the beatings inflicted on him during the scuffle. Unfortunately as the doctor examined him, he discovered that Moses was HIV positive. Timothy took Moses home to the orphanage in Mukono, Uganda, but Moses’ health continued to decline from that day on.
Timothy has done all he has known to do to help Moses; all he could afford to do—but it simply wasn’t enough. And now Timothy grieves.
Why does the death one ten-year-old orphan in Uganda affect me?
First, my daughter met Timothy when she was on a humanitarian trip to Uganda. She met Moses and came to love him and the other 400+ orphans Timothy has rescued.
She returned home and shared their story with us, and we too came to care for them. She has a deep desire to help his efforts. There is so much need, and having seen that need and realizing the amount of good that can be done with relatively small amounts of money, she has been attempting to rally support for what we are calling “The Timothy Project.”
Timothy’s desire is to create a largely self-sufficient safe haven for these orphans, where they can grow and learn and become educated enough to make a difference for good in their community when they have reached adulthood. But the reality is that he has difficulty even providing adequate shelter and sufficient food for the children on a daily basis.
Every success Timothy sees we applaud and rejoice in. Every sorrow of his we, too, share. His deep sorrow at the loss of Moses we feel here in our home, thousands of miles away. If we had sent more money, could he have lived? We may never know.
Secondly, Moses’ death affects me because I believe, with John Donne, that “…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.” We all share this earth for the time that we are here. Some of us are born into prosperity, and some are born into abject poverty. I believe we will be accountable for how we relate to the humanity we hear of and mingle with during our lives.
I have pondered the sheer enormity of the problem. How many millions of AIDS orphans are there? How could I make a difference? How can I stop the suffering and dying? I am ashamed to say that I have sometimes been so overwhelmed with my inability to help, and the seeming hopelessness of the situation, that I have distanced myself, telling myself it is not my realm to be meddling in, and that there will always be the poor among us.
But then I remember Ebeneezer Scrooge’s comment in Dickens’ Christmas Carol, when he is told that some poor would rather die than go to the poorhouse. Scrooge replies, “Then let them die and decrease the surplus population.”
Am I doing the same when I choose to put their suffering out of my mind and go on with my life? Just who is to be considered “surplus population”, anyway? Does it truly have anything to do with the amount of this world’s goods one has or has not?
If a tragic death does not touch me, is my heart not hardened and am I not useless in God’s hands as a force for good?
Marian Wright Edelman, the renowned children’s advocate, said, “Take at least one step for just one child and you will make a difference.”
A comment Mother Teresa made comes to mind when I consider these thoughts: ““If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed just one.”
I can do that. And I can work and pray for the day when I can feed more. And I can determine never to forget Moses, so that others that come after him might have the chance to live on.
What is your goal?
Tuesday, January 13th, 2009 | Goals, Principles of Wealth, Service, The Healing Power of Service | No Comments
When my husband drowned, we didn’t have enough life insurance to pay off the house. So, here I am, needing to support my family, and feeling a desire to understand how to build true wealth.
I listened to Richard Paul Evans’ seminar, The Five Lessons a Millionaire Taught Me About Life and Wealth, and I learned that only 5% of Americans save up enough during their lifetime to retire comfortably. This, in the richest nation in the world!
Obviously, as a nation we are missing something. There have to be principles that, if followed, can put us – any of us – up in that five percent. So, I am making a study of the “principles of prosperity” (try googling that – I came up with over seven million results!)
As my time is limited, I am studying only the classics of the genre, and those I feel led to read. I’ve started with Napolean Hill’s Think and Grow Rich, picking up other books and gleaning from them what I can while working through Mr. Hill’s program.
As I read last night, I was reminded just how vital it is to have a clear goal in mind as we begin any venture. As a matter of fact, that clear goal is the very first item on the list Napoleon Hill gives of the steps to success:
1. Fix in your mind the exact amount of money you desire.
2. Determine what you intend to give in return for the money.
3. Establish a definite date when you intend to possess the money.
4. Create a definite plan and begin at once(and I thought this next part was fascinating:)whether you are ready or not to put the plan into action. (!)
5. Write a clear Concise statement of the amount of money you intend to acquire; name the time limit for its acquisition; state what you intend to give in return for the money; and describe clearly the plan through which you intend to accumulate it.
6. Read your written statement aloud, twice daily, once just before retiring at night, and once after arising in the morning. As you read—SEE AND FEEL AND BELIEVE YOURSELF ALREADY IN POSSESSION OF THE MONEY.
He reminds us that our burning desire will help us to visualize and convince ourselves that we WILL acquire the money.
Some of my burning desires? I want to be self-sustaining throughout my life. I want my children to be able to enjoy having me around, without having to worry about my care and upkeep as I age. I want to be able to help them when needed, with a down payment, with medical needs, with funds for missions for our church, and to have the funds necessary to be able to travel around and visit them and stay close to the grandchildren. (At present my children are spread from Utah to Washington, D.C. – my desire at some point would be to have them all close enough that we could interact regularly, and I could have ‘grandma time’ with the grandchildren weekly – but that is a completely separate topic!)
I would love to have the funds to be able to help support my community, my nation, and the world. My daughter served in Africa last year, and became acquainted with a man running an orphanage/school for seven hundred orphans. They desperately need new buildings to house them and food to feed them. (see Timothy’sOrphans.org.) My heart aches to hear of their deprivation. Yet his concern is always for others. We recently received a text from this man when he heard of the recession in our country and he wrote: “Are you suffering terribly?” I don’t think I have ever suffered as those children do daily.
I want to help him. To do so, I need to build wealth. To do that, I need to learn the principles. And so goes my quest. For now, I know step one. I need to answer the question: What is my goal?
Perhaps you, too, are seeking a change. It could be greater prosperity, as is mine; it could be healing, it could be a hundred different things. I invite you to join me in setting a clear, definite goal, and to learn from those who have achieved wealth, so that together, we can make this world a better place.
May we all follow these steps – and begin to see the results of our burning desires!
Seeking to bless lives,
Roslyn
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