Buddhist Monk was driving in India when suddenly a dog crosses the road. The car hit and killed the dog. The Buddhist Monk looked around and seeing a temple, went to knock on the door. A monk opened the door. The first monk said: “I’m terribly sorry, but my karma ran over your dogma.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
During the service, the pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express praise for prayers which had been answered. A lady stood up and came forward. She said, “I have a reason to thank the Lord. Two months ago, my husband, Jim, had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn’t know if they could help him.”
You could hear an audible gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagined the pain that poor Jim experienced. She continued, “Jim was unable to hold me or the children and every move caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation. They were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Jim’s scrotum and wrap wire around it to hold it in place.”
Again, the men in the Congregation squirmed uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Jim. She continued, “Now, Jim is out of the hospital and the doctor’s say, with time, his scrotum should recover completely.” All the men sighed with relief.
The pastor rose and tentatively asked if any one else had anything to say. A man rose and walked slowly to the podium.
He said, “I’m Jim and I would like to tell my wife, the word is ‘sternum.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
My son, Mitchell, who is in kindergarten, practices spelling with magnetic letters on the refrigerator: cat, dog, dad, and mom have been proudly displayed for all to see. One morning while getting ready for the day, Mitchell bounded into the room with his arms outstretched. In his hands were three magnetic letters: “G”-“O”-“D.” “Look what I spelled, Mom!” Mitch exclaimed, a proud smile on his face.
“That’s wonderful!” I praised him. “Now go put them on the fridge so Dad can see when he gets home tonight.” That Catholic education is certainly having an impact, I thought, happily. Just then, a little voice called from the kitchen. “Mom? How do you spell ‘zilla?'”