I believe for every drop of rain that falls, a flower grows,
I believe that someone in the great somewhere, hears every word,
every time I hear a new born baby cry or touch a leaf or see the sky ......
then I know WHY I BELIEVE..
There Is A Garden In Her Face,
Where Roses And White Lilies Blow;
A Heavenly Paradise Is That Place,
Wherein All Pleasant Fruits Do Grow.
There Cherries Grow That None May Buy,
Till Cherry Ripe Themselves Do Cry
In every crisis there is a message.
Crises are nature''s way of forcing change--
breaking down old structures,
shaking loose negative habits
so that something new and better
can take their place.
