A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul: 101 More Stories to Open the Heart and Rekindle the Spirit

A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul: 101 More Stories to Open the Heart and Rekindle the Spirit

Whether you are a devotee of the series or a first-time sampler. You will find this latest portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul both riveting and heartwarming. Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen have woven another tapestry of timeless tales and inspiring wisdom. This treasury is a tribute to life and humanity, with topics ranging the entire emotional and experiential gamut. The nature of the stories invites you to enjoy Chicken Soup in whatever way you find most comforting - by the spoonful, by the bowl, or the whole pot in one sitting. Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen, #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, have dedicated their lives to the personal and professional growth of others. A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul 101 More Stories to Open the Heart and Rekindle the Spirit By Jack Canfield HCI Copyright © 1998 Jack Canfield All right reserved. ISBN: 9781558745438 Love That Lasts Annette Paxman Bowen Submitted by Sandra Dow Mapula I have a friend who is falling in love. She honestly claims that the sky is bluer; shes noticed the delicate fragrance of the lilacs beside her garage, though she previously walked past them without stopping; and Mozart moves her to tears. In short, life has never been so exciting. Im young again! she shouts exuberantly. I have to admit, the guy must be better than Weight Watchers. She has lost fifteen pounds and looks like a cover girl. Shes taken a new interest in the shape of her thighs. As my friend raves on about her new love, Ive taken a good look at my old one. My hubby, Scott, hasnt yet had his mid-life crisis, but hes entitled to one. His hairline is receding. Hes gained fifteen pounds. Once a marathon runner, all muscles and sinew, he now only runs down hospital halls. His body shows the signs of long work hours and too many candy bars. Yet, he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table, and I want to ask for the check immediately and head for home. My natural glow has dimmed a bit after twenty-five years. I can look pretty good when I have to, but I dont think twice about hanging around the house in my baggy sweat pants, old softball jersey and my husbands gray wool socks. My friend asked me, What will make this love last? I told her the truth: I dont know. Then she asked, Why does your love last? I told her Id think about it. Ive run through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, the ability to communicate. Yet, theres more. We still have fun. Spontaneous good times. Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled-up newspaper, he flipped it playfully at me: this led to all-out war. Last Saturday, while at the grocery store, we split the list and then raced each other to see who could gather the required items and make it to the check-out stand first. Weve made an art form out of our prepared gourmet dinners. Even washing dishes together can be a blast. We enjoy simply being together. And there are surprises: surprises in daily living. One time I came home from work to find a note on the front door. This note led me to another note, then to another, until--many notes later--I was directed to the walk-in closet. I opened the door to find Scott holding a "pot of gold" (my cooking kettle) and the "treasure" of a gift package. He had been jumping back in the closet for an hour, every time he heard footsteps on the stairs. Ever since then, I often leave him notes on the mirror or slip little presents under his pillow. There is understanding. I understand why he must play basketball with the guys regularly. And he understands why, about once a year, I must get away from the house, the phone, the kids--and even him--to meet my sisters somewhere for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.There is a lot of sharing. Not only do we share the bills, the household worries, the parental burdens and the cooking, we also share ideas. Scott came home from a medical convention last month and presented me with a copy of a thick historical novel. Then he touched my heart by telling me he had read the book on the plane. This confession comes from a man who loves science fiction and Tom Clancy thrillers. He read it because he wanted to be able to share ideas about the book after I'd read it. There is comfort. It's the comfort in knowing that I can tell the waitress waiting for our dessert order, "Just bring me a fork. I'll have a bit of his." I know that one bit is allowed. If Scott really wants every single bit of his dessert to himself, I know he will say, "Sorry, order your own!" And if he's not up to sharing, I'm not offended. There is blessed forgiveness. When I'm too loud and crazy at parties and have embarrassed us both by not knowing when to shut up, Scott forgives me. He knows I can't resist a good one-liner. I forgave him when he came home and confessed he'd lost some of our investment savings in the stoc