The money or the work?

Hello there.....
Here's a question some interviewers ask...
WHAT IS MORE IMPORTANT TO YOU: THE MONEY OR THE JOB?

I reckon that many of us already have our answers but allow me to share a few thoughts. Mind you, there are no right or wrong answers, just what you believe.

Have you noticed how fast money goes? Well everybody needs money, the question is how much money would we need until we stop needing money? or perhaps we can look at it from another point of view...Money does a lot for us.....we need to get comfy, take good care of ourselves, afford ourselves some deserved luxury as many of us would say after suffering for so long...truth is money goes into a lot if things as we see fit.....

The work part though, hmmm, this has got me thinking, i can't currently have an IQ of 130 and just want to live a less challenging or productive life style...where would all that zeal go?

To want to know more, do more, say more, touch more. You know, I was once privileged to be lectured by a great man who said and I quote:
"There is so much more to see than you have ever seen"
"So much more to know than you have ever known"
"So much more to hear than you have ever heard"
"So much more to do than you have ever done".

As I heard those words, in that moment, I knew I would always want to know and have more knowledge....and according to Charles  Ogbulogbo, Professor of Linguistics and Vice Chancellor Covenant University, speaking to the Elite set of 2015 "I will forever be a Life Long Learner and an example of properly developed CHARACTER".

My conclusion: If you're putting your heart and soul into an assignment and you aren't properly rewarded or if you neglect the place of being productive up until a point where your life's work begin to set others in line for the money, it wouldn't be a decision well made.

Kindly share your thoughts in the comment section. Thank you

To Nurture 2

...I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said

After the funeral, most pwople headed out for lunch, Marks mother and father were there obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something,"His father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times.

I knew without looking that the papers were the ones I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."

Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Chuck smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list, its in the top drawer of my desk at home." John's wife said, "John asked me to put his in our wedding album." "I have mine too." Marilyn said. "it's in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate reached into her pocket book, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me all the time," Vicky said without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists".

Thats when I finally sat down and cried.

                                                                     END

What would make so many adults hold on to a piece of paper they had received years ago as a kid, some of them carrying those papers every where they went, even into battle in a rice paddy halfway around the world. Its appreciation every one is incredibly hungry for APPRECIATION and RECOGNITION. As you interact with people, walk slowly through the crowd. Remember peoples names and take time to show them you care. Make other people a priority in your life over every other thing. IT WILL MAKE YOU A PERSON OF SIGNIFICANT INFLUENCE IN THEIR LIVES.

To Nurture...

Hello wonderful people, allow me to share a short story of a teacher I encountered while reading a book.

BRAINS are like HEARTS, they go where they are APPRECIATED

One day in the classroom, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were growing frustrated with themselves- and becoming edgy with one another. 

I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So, I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving  a space between each.Then I told them to think of the nicest thing to say about each of their classmates and write it down..

It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment and as each student left the room, each handed me their papers....

That Saturday, I wrote the name of each student on a fresh piece of paper and listed what every one else had said about the individual. On Monday, I gave each student his or her list. Some of them ran two pages. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered,"I never knew I meant anything to anyone", "I didn't know others liked me so much!"

No  one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed it after class or with their parents. It didn't matter the exercise had accomplished its purpose.The students were happy with themselves and one another again.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I had returned from a vacation, my parents met me at the airport.As were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip: How the weather was, my experience in general. There was a slight lull in the conversation, mother gave dad a sideways glance and simply said "dad?" My father cleared his throat. "The Eklunds called last night," he began.

"Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in several years, I wonder how mark is....." 

Dad responded quietly, "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said . "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend." 

I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before.....

The church was packed with Mark's friends. [His old classmates] Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the grave side. The pastor said the usual prayers. One by one, those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water. I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as a pallbearer came up to me "Were you Mark's maths teacher?"

kindly check newer post for the complete story.

Perspective on our Generation

Hello everyone, its been a long while and I duly apologize for being absent for two months due to operational constraints. I am back and stronger. 

 

I  came across this challenging write up in my study...till i completed reading it. There are two ways to view this post, what is your perspective on our generation?

 

Our Generation

 Our genertion will be known for nothing

Never will anybody say

We were the peak of mankind

That is wrong, the truth is

Our generation was a failure

Thinking that we actuallly succeeded

Is a waste and we know 

Living only for money and power

Is the way to go  

Being loving, respectful and kind 

Is a dumb thing to do

Forgetting about that time,

Will not be easy but we will try

Changing our world for the better

Is something we never did

Giving up

WAS how we handled our problems

Working hard 

Was a joke

We knew that 

People thought we couldn't come back 

That might be true

Unless we turn things around

(READ FROM BOTTOM TO TOP NOW)