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Заголовок:Chicken Soup for the Soul Душевый куриный суп
Автор:Джек Канфилд;
Название издательства:Backlist
Опубликованная дата:2012
Английский язык
ISBNА9781623611248
Размер товара:10.6 x 3 x 17.1 cm
Упаковка:Украшение
Количество страниц:416
★ Вдохновленный вдохновляющий мастер Джек·Кандфилд;★“Душевый куриный суп”Серия из 56 стран была переведена на более чем 40 языков, и в мире продаются сотни миллионов во всем мире.
★ Откройте свое сердце и осветите надежду;
Он выражает истинные чувства мира на простом языке, и даже глубокие эмоции говорят о красочной жизни, зажигают факел истинных чувств в каждом углу; Сердце истинных чувств может быть укреплено в столкновении в столкновение в столкновении.Это мировой вдохновляющий мастер Джек·Канфилдскую ручкуChicken Soup for the Soul"" "" "Душевый куриный суп"Пересечение
Эта книга включает в себя замечательную историю, которую можно поощрять и двигаться, которая позволит вам жить более восторженным и твердо осуществить свою внутреннюю мечту!
Эта книга поможет вам тратить бесчисленные проблемы, разочарования и неудачи и заботиться о ваших бесчисленных головоломках, болях и потерях;
Whether you are discovering Chicken Soup for the Soul for the first time, or you are a long-time fan, this book will inspire you to be a better person, reach for your highest potential, overcome your challenges, and embrace the world around you.
Эта книга создает прекрасное чувство, а также создает концепцию——Мы вместе.Эта история дает нам новое видение новой истины, и даже новый способ познания вселенной.
Jack Canfield is co-creator of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, which includes forty New York Times bestsellers, and coauthor of The Success Principles: How to Get from Where You Are to Where You Want to Be. He is a leader in the field of personal transformation and peak performance and is currently CEO of the Canfield Training Group and Founder and Chairman of the Board of The Foundation for Self-Esteem. An internationally renowned corporate trainer and keynote speaker, he lives in Santa Barbara, California.
2. Learning to Love Yourself
3. On Parenting
4. On Learning
5. Live Your Dream
6. Overcoming Obstacles
7. Eclectic Wisdom
At 82 he was ready to die, and I was ready to let him go so that his suffering would end. We laughed and cried and held hands and told each other of our love and agreed that it was time. I said, Dad, after you’ve gone I want a sign from you that you’re fine.” He laughed at the absurdity of that; Dad didn’t believe in reincarnation. I wasn’t positive I did either, but I had had many experiences that convinced me I could get some signal“from the other side.”
My father and I were so deeply connected I felt his heart attack in my chest at the moment lie died. Later I mourned that the hospital, in their sterile wisdom, had not let me hold his hand as he had slipped away.
Day after day I prayed to hear from him, but nothing happened. Night after night I asked for a dream before I fell asleep. And yet four long months passed and I heard and felt nothing but grief at his loss.Mother had died five years before of Alzheimer’s, and, though I had grown daughters of my own, I felt like a lost child.
One day, while I was lying on a massage table in a dark quiet room waiting for my appointment, a wave of longing for my father swept over me. I began to wonder if I had been too demanding in asking for a sign from him. I noticed that my mind was in a hyper-acute state. I experienced an unfamiliar clarity in which I could have added long columns of figures in my head. I checked to make sure I was awake and not dreaming, and I saw that I was as far removed from a dreamy state as one could possibly be. Each thought I had was like a drop of water disturbing a still pond, and I marveled at the peacefulness of each passing moment. Then I thought,“I’ve been trying to control the messages from the other side; I will stop that now.”
Suddenly my mother’s face appeared—my mother, as she had been before Alzheimer’s disease had stripped her of her mind, her humanity and 50 pounds. Her magnificent silver hair crowned her sweet face. She was so real and so close I felt I could reach out and touch her. She looked as she had a dozen years ago, before the wasting away had begun. I even smelled the fragrance of Joy, her favorite perfume. She seemed to be waiting and did not speak. I wondered how it could happen that I was thinking of my father and my mother appeared, and I felt a little guilty that I had not asked for her as well.
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