Quotes About Legacy

But there's a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother's story, because her is where yours begins. So this was my mother's story. And mine.

Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it on to someone else.

forever around us, and no soul remembered is ever really gone.

Every family is a ghost story.

He looked at his own arms and realized, in his earthly body, he was now older than his father. He had outlived him in every way.

Alli took her husband's arm. "Your father was a faster runner and a better climber.

Sacrifice is a part of life. It's supposed to be. It's not something to regret. It's something to aspire to. Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it on to someone else.

When a baby comes into the world, its hands are clenched, right? Like this?" He made a fist. "Why? Because a baby, not knowing any better, wants to grab everything, to say, 'The whole world is mine.' "But when an old person dies, how does he do so? With his hands open. Why? Because he has learned the lesson." What lesson? I asked. He stretched open his empty fingers. "We can take nothing with us."   For

All right. In that final minute, I would say, 'Look, Lord, I've done X amount of good stuff on earth. I have tried to follow your teachings and to pass them on. I have loved my family. I've been part of a community. And I have been, I think, fairly good to people. "'So, Heavenly Father, for all this, what is my reward?"' And what do you think God will say? He smiled. "He'll say, 'Reward?

There are five people you meet in Heaven. Each of us was in your life for a reason. You may not have known the reason at the time, and that is what Heaven is for. For understanding your life on earth.

I wondered, now that his days were dwindling, how important ritual still was. "Vital," he said. But why? Deep inside, you know your convictions. "Mitch," he said, "faith is about doing. You are how you act, not just how you believe.

When a baby comes into the world, its hands are clenched, right? Like this?" He made a fist. "Why? Because a baby, not knowing any better, wants to grab everything, to say, 'The whole world is mine.' "But when an old person dies, how does he do so? With his hands open. Why? Because he has learned the lesson." What lesson? I asked. He stretched open his empty fingers. "We can take nothing with us.

That's the thing. Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it on to someone else.

Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it on to someone else." The

Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them - a mother's approval, a father's nod - are covered by moments of their own accomplishments. It is not until much later, as the skin sags and the heart weakens, that children understand; their stories, and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones, beneath the waters of their lives

heaven is always and forever around us and no soul remembered is ever really gone.

People lament that if their loved ones had been born fifty years later, they might have survived what killed them. But perhaps what killed them is what led someone to find a cure.

Tell me something, Annie. Did the world begin with your birth?" "Of course not." "Right. Not yours. Not mine. Yet we humans make so much of 'our' time on earth. We measure it, we compare it, we put it on our tombstones. "We forget that 'our' time is linked to others' times. We come from one. We return to one. That's how a connected universe makes sense.

My grandparents did these things. My parents, too. If I take the pattern and throw it out, what does that say about their lives? Or mine? From generation to generation, these rituals are how we remain…" He rolled his hand, searching for the word. Connected? I said.

feel happy because there is fish to eat. But sad because I kill it. I don't want to be in this world anymore, Benji, taking things. I want the last thing I do to be giving. You and others please, eat the fish. Stay alive. I want to be with my Bernadette. I know she is safe. I think last night she let me see Heaven. She is saying God waits for me. I pray you get home. I leave

When a baby comes into the world, its hands are clenched, right? Like this? He made a fist. Why? Because a baby, not knowing any better, wants to grab everything, to say, 'The whole world is mine.' But when an old person dies, how does he do so? With his hands open. Why? Because he has learned his lesson. What lesson? I asked. He stretched open his empty fingers. We can take nothing with us.

But behind all your stories is always your mother's story, because hers is where yours begins.

Every one knows they 're going to die, but nobody believes it... If we did, we would do things differently.

Exceptional children are often the product of unremarkable parents. -Mr.Holmes