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Showing posts from August, 2013

Rickshaw Puller - "Bai Fangli"

In 1987, a 74-year old rickshaw puller by the name of Bai Fangli came back to his hometown planning to retire from his backbreaking job. There, he saw children working in the fields, because they were too poor to afford school fees.

Bai returned to Tianjin and went back to work as a rickshaw puller, taking a modest accommodation next to the railway station. He waited for clients 24 hours a day, ate simple food and wore discarded second-hand clothes he found. He gave all of his hard-earned earnings to support children who could not afford education.

In 2001, he drove his rickshaw to Tianjin YaoHua Middle School, to deliver his last installment of money. Nearly 90 years old, he told the students that he couldn't work any more. All of the students and teachers were moved to tears.

In total, Bai had donated a total of 350,000 yuan to help more than 300 poor students continue with their studies. In 2005, Bai passed away leaving behind an inspiring legacy.

If a rickshaw-pulle…

Don't Blame your Country

A Somalian arrives in Australia as a new immigrant.

He stops the first person he sees walking down the street and says........

'Thank you Mr. Australian for letting me in this country, giving me housing, money for food, free medical care, free education and no taxes!'

The passer by says,
'You are mistaken, I am Afgani!'

The man goes on and encounters another passer by.
'Thank you for having such beautiful country here in Australia!'
The person says, 'I not Australian, I Iraqi!'

The new arrival walks further and the next person he sees he stops, shakes his hand and says,
'Thank you for the wonderful Australia!
'That person puts up his hand and says,
'I am from Pakistan, I am not from Australia!'

He finally sees a nice lady and asks,
'Are you an Australian?'
She says, 'No, I am from India!'

Puzzled, he asks her,

'Where are all the Australians?'

The Indian lady checks her watch and says ..
.
'Probably at work'.

Divorce

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly.

She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?

I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage.

But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company.

She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of h…