Kids- A Class Of Their Own

Never give up because life gets harder as you get older. After preschool the road of life keeps getting bumpier and bumpier and bumpier. Angela Martin, age 11

Don’t think life is easy, because when you get older it is hard work. I used to think life was easy, now I have to do the dishes every other day. Nick Coleman, age 9

Take risks. I mean, if you like this person and you don’t know if they like you, ask them out and see what happens. I liked this girl and I asked her out. She said no and she hates me now, but I took that risk. Bruce Wagner, age 13

A realist is more correct about things in life than an optimist. But the optimist seems to have more friends and much more fun. Megan, age 14

Most books now say our sun is a star. But it still knows how to change back into a sun in the daytime.  Marcy age 13

Many dead animals in the past changed to fossils while others preferred to be oil.

Jerry age 11

Vacuums are nothings. We only mention them to let them know we know they’re there. Mark age 14

Some oxygen molecules help fires burn while others help make water, so sometimes it’s brother against brother. Allan age 12

Never blow in a cat’s ear because if you do, usually after three or four times, they will bite your lips! And they don’t let go for at least a minute. Lisa Coburn, age 9


To whoever stole my copy of Microsoft Office, I will find you. You have my Word!

What sound does a witches car make? Broom Broom

What’s Forrest Gump’s password? 1forrest1

I wanted to go on a diet, but I feel like I have way too much on my plate right now.

Did you hear about the chameleon who couldn’t change color? He had a reptile dysfunction.

What did the drummer call his twin daughters? Anna one, Anna two!

Suture Self

The man told his doctor that he wasn’t able to do all the things around the house that he used to do.

When the examination was complete, he said, “Now, Doc, I can take it. Tell me in plain English what is wrong with me.”

“Well, in plain English,” the doctor replied, “you’re just lazy.”

“Okay,” said the man. “Now give me the medical term so I can tell my wife.”

Moment Of Truth

One night, Clinton was visited by George Washington’s ghost in the White House. “George, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?” Clinton asked.

“Set an honest and honorable example, just as I did,” advised George. The next night, the ghost of Thomas Jefferson Moved through the dark bedroom. “Tom, what is the best thing I could do to Help the country?” Clinton asked.

“Cut taxes and reduce the size of government,” advised Tom.

Clinton didn’t sleep well the next night, and saw another figure moving in the shadows. It was Abraham Lincoln’s ghost. “Abe, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?” Clinton asked.

“Go to the theatre.” replied Abe.

Here is the world’s easiest test. You should be able to get 100% on this one.
1. How long did the hundred year war last?
2. Which country makes Panama hats?
3. From what animal do we get catgut?
4. In what month do Russians celebrate the October Revolution?
5. What is Camel’s hair brush made from?
6. The Canary Islands in the Pacific are named after what animal?
7. What was King George VI’s first name?
8. What color is a Purple Finch?
9. Where are Chinese Gooseberries from?
10. How long did the Thirty Years War last?

Ready for the answers?

1. 116 years, from 1337 to 1453.
2. Ecuador.
3. From sheep and horses.
4. November. The Russian calendar was 13 days behind ours.
5. Squirrel fur.
6. The Latin name was Insularia Canaria — Island of the Dogs.
7. Albert. In 1936 he respected the wish of Queen Victoria that no future king should ever be called Albert.
8. Distinctively crimson.
9. New Zealand.
10. 30 years of course. 1618 to 1648.

Q: Why is fabric softener so popular?  A: It makes people ex-static

Off-Hand Comment

While visiting my son on his Army base, I chatted with a colleague of his.

“What rank are you?” I asked.

“I’m relieved to say that I’ve just been promoted from captain to major.”

“Relieved? Why?”

“Because,” he replied, “my last name is Hook.”

More Posers

Two wrongs don’t make a right, but two Wrights made an airplane.

It’s not the pace of life that concerns me, it’s the sudden stop at the end.

The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard.

Living on Earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip around the sun.

Never knock on Death’s door; ring the doorbell and run (he hates that).

When you’re finally holding all the cards, why does everyone else decide to play chess?

A closed mouth gathers no feet.

It’s not hard to meet expenses…they’re everywhere.

The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.


A lawyer defended a man accused of burglary with: “My client merely inserted his arm into the window and removed a few trifling articles.

His arm is not himself, and I fail to see how you can punish the whole individual for an offense committed by his limb.”

“Well put,” the judge replied. “Using your logic, I sentence the defendant’s arm to one year’s imprisonment. He can accompany it or not, as he chooses.”

The defendant smiled. With his lawyer’s assistance he detached his artificial limb, laid it on the bench, and walked out.

Tempo Tantrums

The Symphony Orchestra was playing a concert in the park. They were in the middle of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony. The basses, in the back of the orchestra, decided they had a few minutes to spare before being asked to play anything, so they ran across the street to the pub for some ale. It was a windy day, so they found some string to wrap around their music stands to secure their music while they were gone. Once at the tavern, they could hear the music and keep up with the progress of the piece.

After a few rounds, they decided that they had to hurry because the last movement of the ninth symphony was under way. They stumbled back onto the bandstand and were fumbling with the string, trying to get it loose, but not having much success. The conductor saw what was happening and instantly sized up the situation: it was the bottom of the ninth, the score was tied and the basses were loaded.

The Orchestra ended the concert with a cello solo. Everyone knows there’s always room for cello.

Shielded by the Lord

I thanked God that morning for the water-stained ceiling tiles. They were as much a miracle to me as a clear blue sky. When I opened my eyes after a fitful night’s sleep and saw them above my hospital bed, I knew I was still alive. I was pretty sure there were no ceiling tiles in heaven.

I was 39 years old, and wasn’t likely to live out the week, much less see 40. As the morning dragged on, my family and the parishioners of my church came in and out of my room, praying for my recovery.

Prayer was all I had left. It was Franny, one of my older congregants, who seemed to have the most faith in the impossible.

“Pastor Dave, I’m not sure what this means, but you will find the Lord to be a shield around you…that’s in the Bible somewhere, or maybe a hymn. I just know he wanted me to tell you that.”

I recognized the phrase, from one of David’s psalms: “You are a shield around me, O Lord.” But those kinds of miracles, the big biblical ones? They just didn’t apply today.

I’d come through the worst of my battle with acute myeloid leukemia, just completed my final round of chemo. Through it all, my wife, Sheri, stood by me, wearing a hospital gown and a mask to protect my compromised immune system.

It looked like I was going to be okay. The oncologist was pleased with my latest test results. I’d even been able to dance, briefly, with our daughter in my hospital room just before she’d left for the prom. Then something happened that made it all for naught–my appendix burst.

Sheri was at our son’s soccer game when she got the call. My white blood cells were depleted from the chemo–I couldn’t fight infection. My platelet count was low–my blood wouldn’t clot. In other words, surgery was not an option. And without it, the poison flooding my body would be fatal.

The doctors inserted a tube into my abdomen, hoping to drain off some of the toxins. But it would only buy me hours, not the weeks I needed to build up the strength to survive an appendectomy. Sheri raced to the hospital and told everyone we knew to come, come now.

A procession of visitors murmured their prayers, said goodbye. Except Franny. She was so sure of the message she’d received. I didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise.

The nurses doped me up to keep me comfortable. I lost track of time. Soon, the sun had set again. My visitors left. Sheri went home to look after the kids.

Holy Spirit is a Catholic hospital, and Scripture readings are broadcast over the PA system at the beginning and end of each day. I could no longer hear those words of hope. In seminary, I learned that fear is not an emotion–it’s a spirit. And this evil spirit spoke louder.

I pictured Sheri sitting alone at home, mustering all her courage to hold the family together. I saw my daughter in her wedding gown, walking down the aisle without me. I saw our sons playing pickup football, no one to cheer them on. “You are gone, they are alone,” the spirit whispered.

I countered it with all I had, Franny’s strange message and David’s prayer at the forefront of my mind. “You are a shield around me, O Lord,” I said aloud. I repeated it over and over until I was able to sleep.

I woke up the next day and saw the ceiling tiles. The day after that too. My doctors and nurses knew of only one case where anyone with cancer like mine survived a burst appendix for so long.

When I passed the one-week mark, a social worker said they were sending me home, but that I’d have to come in every few days for blood tests to see if I was strong enough for surgery. There was no guarantee I would be.

I treasured every moment with my family. Sheri read to me in bed. I played piano with the kids, and we sang, talked and laughed until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I even spent time with our dog, cuddling on the sofa.

Laying my hands on my children’s heads, I prayed for them as if it were the last time I could. “Lord, let all heaven break loose upon them as they fulfill their destinies.”

Each morning, Sheri helped me out of the shower and I stared in the mirror at the tubes hanging out of my chest, the ports from chemotherapy. I looked like the “Terminator” on a bad day.

Somehow, though, I made it six weeks. My platelet levels normalized. The surgeon prepared me for the operation. “I’m going to do an exploratory procedure,” he said. “We need to see what damage has been done.”

Through the fog of anesthesia, I remembered David’s words. Why those? Franny wasn’t sure what they meant, and neither was I. But that passage had sustained me, like provisions during a desolate winter. You are a shield around me.

I opened my eyes to the hospital ceiling tiles, Sheri squeezing my hand. The surgeon came in, holding some five-by-seven-inch glossy photos taken from inside my lower abdomen. “Have you ever had an operation before?” he asked.

“Only my tonsils,” I said.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” the surgeon said. He held up one of the photos. It just looked like blobs to me.

“Here is your appendix, what’s left of it,” he said, pointing with his pen. “But surrounding it…is a kind of tent, composed of adhesions.” He made a circle. “It’s the strongest kind of scar tissue there is. We normally see it only after someone has surgery.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

The surgeon fumbled for the right words. “All the toxins were contained within this structure. These adhesions, they acted almost like…tiny shields, tightly packed together.”

I’ll never know why my life was spared, not while I’m here on earth. That’s what heaven is for. For now, I enjoy my family, my friends, the blue sky. I’m not ready to see beyond the ceiling tiles quite yet.


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