Friendship is a Priceless Gift that cannot be bought or sold,
But its value is far greater than a mountain made of Gold.
For gold is cold and lifeless, it can neither see nor hear
And in the time of trouble it is powerless to cheer--
It has no ears to listen nor heart to understand,
It cannot bring you comfort or reach out a helping hand
So when you ask God for a gift
Be thankful if HE sends not diamonds, pearls or riches
But The Love of Real True Friends.

 Helen Steiner Rice

Dear Readers
My friend Grenache (Sandy) sent me this today and I rather liked it as it
truely does seems to depict how children change in stages. Thought I would
share it with you and maybe give you a chuckle.
Misker

Children As Pets
"The Cat Years"

I just realized that while children are dogs - loyal and affectionate -
 teenagers are cats. It's so easy to be a dog owner. You feed it, train
it, boss it around. It puts its head on your knee and gazes at you as if
you were a Rembrandt painting. It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when
you call it.

Then around age 13, your adoring little puppy turns into a big old cat.
 When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who
died and made you emperor. Instead of dogging
your doorsteps, it disappears. You won't see it again until it gets
hungry -- then it pauses on its sprint through the kitchen long enough
to turn its nose up at whatever you're serving. When you
reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it
twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to
remember where it has seen you before.

You, not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be
desperately wrong with it. It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of
depressed. It won't go on family outings. Since you're the one who
raised it, taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume
that you did something wrong. Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble
your efforts to make your pet behave.

Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now
produces the opposite of the desired result. Call it, and it runs away.
Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter.  The more you go toward it,
wringing your hands, the more it moves away.

Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave
like a cat owner. Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to
you. But remember that a cat needs your help and your affection too. Sit
still, and it will come, seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not
entirely forgotten. Be there to open the door for it.

One day your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen, give you a big
kiss and say, "You've been on your feet all day. Let me get those dishes
for you."

Then you'll realize your cat is a dog again.

Author Unknown