The Reverend

   Francis Norton woke up Sunday morning and realizing it was an
   exceptionally beautiful and sunny early spring day, decided he just
   had to play golf. So... he told the Associate Pastor that he was
   feeling sick and convinced him to say Mass for him that day. As soon
   as the Associate Pastor left the room, Father Norton headed out of
   town to a golf course about forty miles away. This way he knew he
   wouldn't accidentally meet anyone he knew from his parish.
   Setting up on the first tee, he was alone. After all, it was Sunday
   morning and everyone else was in church! At about this time, Saint
   Peter leaned over to the Lord while looking down from the heavens and
   exclaimed, "You're not going to let him get away with this, are you?"
   The Lord sighed, and said, "No, I guess not." Just then Father Norton
   hit the ball and it shot straight towards the pin, dropping just short
   of it, rolled up and fell into the hole. It WAS A 420 YARD HOLE IN
   ONE! St. Peter was astonished. He looked at the Lord and asked, "Why
   did you let him do that?" The Lord smiled and replied, "Who's he going
   to tell?"




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Valentine's Day Story 

   John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform,
   and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central
   Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he
   didn't, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen
   months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he
   found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the
   notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a
   thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he
   discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time
   and effort he located her address. She now lived in New York City. He
   wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond.
   The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II.
   During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other
   through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A
   romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she
   refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she
   looked like. When the day finally came for him to return from Europe,
   they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 PM at the Grand Central
   Station in New York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red
   rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7:00 he was in the station
   looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never
   seen. I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young woman was
   coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back
   in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her
   lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she
   was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely
   forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a
   small provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she
   murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and
   then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the
   girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn
   hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into
   low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
   I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow
   her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had
   truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale,
   plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and
   kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn
   blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This
   would not be love, but it would be something precious, something
   perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and
   must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out
   the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the
   bitterness of my disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and
   you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me. May I take
   you to dinner?" The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I
   don't know what this is about, son," she answered, "but the young lady
   in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on
   my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go
   and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across
   the street. She said it was some kind of test!" It's not difficult to
   understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom.
   The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the
   unattractive. "Tell me whom you love," Houssaye wrote, "And I will
   tell you who you are."




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The first engineer calls out to the other, "Hey--Nice bike!
   Where did you get it?" "Well," replies the other, "I was walking to
   class the other day when this pretty, young coed rides up on this
   bike. She jumps off, takes off all of her clothes, and says 'you can
   have ANYTHING you want!'" "Good choice," says the first guy, "her
   clothes wouldn't have fit you anyway.




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    Why is a Laundromat a really bad place to pick up a woman?
   Because a woman who can't even afford a washing machine will never be
   able to support you. Why do men pass gas more than women? Because
   women won't shut up long enough to build up pressure. One golfer tells
   another: "Hey, guess what? I got a set of golf clubs for my wife!" The
   other replies: "GREAT trade!" How many men does it take to open a
   beer? None. It should be opened by the time she brings it in. What do
   you call a woman with two brain cells? Pregnant. I married Miss Right.
   I just didn't know her first name was Always. Losing a wife can be
   hard. In my case, it was almost impossible. I haven't spoken to my
   wife for 18 months-I don't like to interrupt her. Women are so
   unreasonable! My wife gets mad because every Saturday night I take a
   bath with bubbles in it. I mean, if Bubbles doesn't mind, why should
   she? Most accidents happen at home. And the men have to eat them! Some
   mornings I wake up grouchy...and some mornings I just let her sleep!
   Bigamy is having one wife too many. Some say monogamy is the same.
   Scientists have discovered a food that diminishes a woman's sex drive
   by 90 percent.... Wedding cake! Marriage is a 3-ring circus:
   engagement ring, wedding ring and suffering.




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4 



    A local United Way office realized that it had never
   received a donation from the town's most successful lawyer. The person
   in charge of contributions called him to persuade him to contribute.
   "Our research shows that out of a yearly income of at least $500,000,
   you give not a penny to charity. Wouldn't you like to give back to the
   community in some way?" The lawyer mulled this over for a moment and
   replied, "First, did your research also show that my mother is dying
   after a long illness, and has medical bills that are several times her
   annual income?" Embarrassed, the United Way rep mumbled, "Um...no."
   "-or that my brother, a disabled veteran, is blind and confined to a
   wheelchair?" The stricken United Way rep began to stammer out an
   apology but was interrupted, "-or that my sister's husband died in a
   traffic accident," the lawyer's voice rising in indignation, "leaving
   her penniless with three children?" The humiliated United Way rep,
   completely beaten, said simply, "I had no idea..." On a roll, the
   lawyer cut him off once again: "-so if I don't give any money to them,
   why should I give any to you?"




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