FOOD FOR THOUGHT: POVERTY IS EVERYWHERE

What's up with me??????

First of all my heartflet apologies for again a very late post. I think of writing and posting something on my blog but all the planning back fires. I have tried writing about my life, adventures, new revealations etc etc, I can explain the failure to do so as writers block only lol. I have written many stuffs but they just didn't click so forgot about all of them.

I feel as if my life is spiralling out of control. I am falling out of my safe cocoon day by day yet I can't find something to hold on to and reverse back.

L.O.S.T

You pass me on the street and our eyes meet briefly

You hold the door open for me as I enter behind you

I say thanks, but you have no idea that my mind is blank

In the elevator you crack a joke, i flash a smile

you have no idea that my heart is in denial

You ask me how my day was and I say fine

You have no idea that my brain and I are arguing to if I should cross the line

My happiness is gone as I walk in this world

The thoughts in my head have me wishing I was in a cold dark hole

Once you loose your soul there is no turning back

Everything you once dreamed of no longer has an impact

You don't want to love nor you want to have fun

Your days are so long the problems in your mind question if you should carry on

You smile so that's what people see on your face

they think that you are happy but deep down inside you feel like a worthless disgrace

Every the perfromance you put on for people is Emmy award winning

But you question yourself and wonder if you act is a just way for you to hold your internal sinnings

When you wake up from a night's sleep you wonder to yurself if this is the day your heart will be back or to it's old slef or will it still be skipping every other beat

You wonder if things that once made you happy to be alive will make a come back

You wonder if the little things in life that made you who you are will have you once again dreaming to the stars

You wonder if you'll feel less empty hearted

You wonder ot yourself who holds the match to start that fire

You're tired of running and loosing your breath

You want to hold tight to something that will once again help you enjoy the journey into life's amazing tracks

You want to feel that everyday can be better than the last

You wantto learn your lost soul feeling into a thing of your past.....

Kindness, like a boomerang, always returns

A good character is the best tombstone. Those who loved you and were helped by you will remember you when forget-me-nots have withered. Carve your name on hearts, not on marble. ~Charles H. Spurgeon~

Kindness and compassion is something we rarely say in this time and age. Like most good things gifted by nature including gardens of greenery, beauty of the mountains, unpolluted flowing rivers with breathtakingly beautiful wild flowers and chirping cute birds, kindness has become almost extinct. It seems that with time humans memory has faded to the extent to which they have forgotten it's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.

Even at times like this we do come across people who hold on to the belief that all the people we meet are significant and deserve care and respect equally.

I am delighted to say that I have met a fair share of people we should call humane. On my trip back from Addu, I took a cab to the airport. Since I didn’t know the fare was Mrf50 I had Mrf100 bills. It turned out that the driver did not have change as well. Upon arrival to the airport the driver went over to a young man t to see if he got change. The driver came back and gave me my Mrf100 bill. When I questioned him about the fare, he pointed to the smiling young man and said he wanted to pay my fare. I was very grateful, smiled politely and headed to the terminal.

Once in the terminal, I was immediately approached by a kind staff of immigration. He volunteered to carry my luggage through immigration to be monitored and again till I was done with check in with the airline. He said how could a tiny lady like me can handle such heavy luggage. But believe me I had one luggage bag containing clothes only, a tiny box with edible leaves and my super sized travelling bag.I said I could handle but upon his insistence I gave up and thanked him for the help. Once I was done with everything, I went over to a nearby café’ to get a drink and headed to the terminal. The kind man from immigration was the one who checked me through the gate to board the flight. He had one of the biggest genuine smiles I have seen.

Some people feel that one person or a small thing can’t make a difference. But believe me a small gesture as small as a kind smile can have a great positive boost to oneself as it could be the only sunshine he/she has had the whole day. And an act of kindness from a single person does make a difference.

What this world needs is a new kind of army - the army of the kind as said by Cleveland Amory.

The Wallet- writer Unknown

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so
I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a
crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.

The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the
return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then
I saw the dateline--1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago.

It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue
stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a "Dear John"
letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the
writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she
wrote that she would always love him.

It was signed, Hannah.

It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name
Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information,
the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.

"Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the
owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a
phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?"

She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you
the number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my
story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few
minutes and then she was back on the line. "I have a party who will speak
with you."

I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the
name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!"

"Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked.

"I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some
years ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter."

She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living.

I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.

This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a
big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a
letter that was almost 60 years old?

Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us. "

Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her.
"Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to take a chance, she might be in
the day room watching television."

I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a
guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large
building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.

She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in
her eye.

I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second
she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took
a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever
had with Michael."

She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said Softly, "I loved
him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too
young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor."

"Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you
should find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a
moment, almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said
smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no
one ever matched up to Michael..."

I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor
and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able to
help you?"

I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I
think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find
the owner of this wallet."

I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red
lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute!
That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that bright red
lacing. He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at
least three times."

"Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake.

"He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's
wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks."

I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her
what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed
that Mr. Goldstein would be up.

On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the day
room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man."

We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, "Oh, it is missing!"

"This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?"

I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with
relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this
afternoon. I want to give you a reward."

"No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the
letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet."

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?"

"Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is."

He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me," he begged.

"She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly.

The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where
she is? I want to call her tomorrow." He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her. "

"Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me."

We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened
and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where
Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to
her.

"Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in
the doorway. "Do you know this man?"

She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word.
Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Hannah, it's Michael. Do you
remember me?"

She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!"
He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with
tears streaming down our faces.

"See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will
be."

About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home.
"Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!"

It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed
up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked
beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their
best man.

The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a
76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had
to see this couple.

A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.

The Radium Girls-By Allan Bellows

I was searching the internet for interesting articles to read and came across this very informative and fine article.Hope you guys will enjoy reading this.

In 1922, a bank teller named Grace Fryer became concerned when her teeth began to loosen and fall out for no discernible reason. Her troubles were compounded when her jaw became swollen and inflamed, so she sought the assistance of a doctor in diagnosing the inexplicable symptoms. Using a primitive X-ray machine, the physician discovered serious bone decay, the likes of which he had never seen. Her jawbone was honeycombed with small holes, in a random pattern reminiscent of moth-eaten fabric.

As a series of doctors attempted to solve Grace’s mysterious ailment, similar cases began to appear throughout her hometown of New Jersey. One dentist in particular took notice of the unusually high number of deteriorated jawbones among local women, and it took very little investigation to discover a common thread; all of the women had been employed by the same watch-painting factory at one time or another.

In 1902, twenty years prior to Grace’s mysterious ailment, inventor William J. Hammer left Paris with a curious souvenir. The famous scientists Pierre and Marie Curie had provided him with some samples of their radium salt crystals. Radioactivity was somewhat new to science, so its properties and dangers were not well understood; but the radium’s slight blue-green glow and natural warmth indicated that it was clearly a fascinating material. Hammer went on to combine his radium salt with glue and a compound called zinc sulfide which glowed in the presence of radiation. The result was glow-in-the-dark paint.

Hammer’s recipe was used by the US Radium Corporation during the First World War to produce Undark, a high-tech paint which allowed America’s infantrymen to read their wristwatches and instrument panels at night. They also marketed the pigment for non-military products such as house numbers, pistol sights, light switch plates, and glowing eyes for toy dolls. By this time the dangers of radium were better understood, but US Radium assured the public that their paint used the radioactive element in “such minute quantities that it is absolutely harmless.” While this was true of the products themselves, the amount of radium present in the dial-painting factory was much more dangerous, unbeknownst to the workers there.

US Radium employed hundreds of women at their factory in Orange, New Jersey, including Grace Fryer. Few companies at that time were willing to employ women, and the pay was much higher than most alternatives, so the company had little trouble finding employees to occupy the rows and rows of desks. They were required to paint delicate lines with fine-tipped brushes, applying the Undark to the tiny numbers and indicator hands of wristwatches. After a few strokes a brush tended to lose its shape, so the women’s managers encouraged them to use their lips and tongues to keep the tips of the camel hair brushes sharp and clean. The glowing paint was completely flavorless, and the supervisors assured them that rosy cheeks would be the only physical side effect to swallowing the radium-laced pigment. Cause for concern was further reduced by the fact that radium was being marketed as a medical elixir for treating all manner of ailments.

A US Radium dial painting factoryThe owners and scientists at US Radium, familiar with the real hazards of radioactivity, naturally took extensive precautions to protect themselves. They knew that Undark’s key ingredient was approximately one million times more active than uranium, so company chemists often used lead screens, masks, and tongs when working with the paint. US Radium had even distributed literature to the medical community describing the “injurious effects” of radium. But inside the factory, where nearly every surface sparkled with radioluminescence, these dangers were unknown. For a lark, some of the women even painted their fingernails and teeth with radium paint on occasion, to surprise their boyfriends when the lights went out.

In 1925, three years after Grace’s health problems began, a doctor suggested that her jaw problems may have had something to do with her former job at US Radium. As she began to explore the possibility, a specialist from Columbia University named Frederick Flynn asked to examine her. Flynn declared her to be in fine health. It would be some time before anyone discovered that Flynn was not a doctor, nor was he licensed to practice medicine, rather he was a toxicologist on the US Radium payroll. A “colleague” who had been present during the examination– and who had confirmed the healthy diagnosis– turned out to be one of the vice-presidents of US Radium. Many of the Undark painters had been developing serious bone-related problems, particularly in the jaw, and the company had begun a concerted effort to conceal the cause of the disease. The mysterious deaths were often blamed on syphilis to undermine the womens’ reputations, and many doctors and dentists inexplicably cooperated with the powerful company’s disinformation campaign.

In the early 1920s, US Radium hired the Harvard physiology professor Cecil Drinker to study the working conditions in the factory. Drinker’s report was grave, indicating a heavily contaminated work force, and unusual blood conditions in virtually everyone who worked there. The report which the company provided to the New Jersey Department of Labor credited Cecil Drinker as the author, however the ominous descriptions of unhealthy conditions were replaced with glowing praise, stating that “every girl is in perfect condition.” Even worse, US Radium’s president disregarded all of the advice in Drinker’s original report, making none of the recommended changes to protect the workers.

The fraudulent report was discovered by a colleague of Drinker’s named Alice Hamilton in 1925. Her letter prompted Drinker to make the information public by publishing his original report in a scientific journal. US Radium executives were furious, and threatened legal action, but Drinker published his findings nonetheless. Among other things, his report stated:

“Dust samples collected in the workroom from various locations and from chairs not used by the workers were all luminous in the dark room. Their hair, faces, hands, arms, necks, the dresses, the underclothes, even the corsets of the dial painters were luminous. One of the girls showed luminous spots on her legs and thighs. The back of another was luminous almost to the waist….”
US Radium was a defense contractor with deep pockets and influential contacts, so it took Grace Fryer two years to find a lawyer willing to take on her former employer. A young attorney from Newark named Raymond Berry filed the suit in 1927, and four other radium-injured dial painters soon joined in. They sought $250,000 each in damages.

A severe instance of "Radium jaw" from 1924As the legal battle ensued, New York dentist Joseph P. Knef examined the jawbone from one of the deceased dial painters named Amelia Maggia. In the last few months of her life the bone had become so decayed that Dr. Knef had been forced to remove it from his patient. Her official cause of death had been listed as syphilis, but Knef suspected otherwise. He exposed the bone to dental film for a time, and then developed it. Patterns on the film indicated an absurd level of radiation, and he confirmed the findings with an electroscope.

As the weeks and months were consumed by the slow-moving court system, the women’s health rapidly deteriorated. At their first appearance in court in January 1928, two were bedridden, and none could raise their arms to take the oath. Grace Fryer, still described by reporters as “pretty,” was unable to walk, required a back brace to sit up, and had lost all of her teeth. The “Radium Girls” began appearing in headlines nationwide, and the grim descriptions of their hopeless condition reached Marie Curie in Paris. “I would be only too happy to give any aid that I could,” she said, adding, “there is absolutely no means of destroying the substance once it enters the human body.”

The women proved too ill to attend the following hearing, which occurred in April. Despite strenuous objections from the women’s lawyer, the judge adjourned the case until September because several US Radium witnesses were summering in Europe, and would consequently be unavailable. Walter Lippmann, the editor of the influential New York World newspaper, wrote of the judge’s decision, calling it a “damnable travesty of justice… There is no possible excuse for such a delay. The women are dying. If ever a case called for prompt adjudication, it is the case of five crippled women who are fighting for a few miserable dollars to ease their last days on earth.” In a later editorial, he wrote, “This is a heartless proceeding. It is unmanly, unjust and cruel. This is a case which calls not for fine-spun litigation but for simple, quick, direct justice.”

The national outrage over the delay prompted the courts to reschedule the hearing for early June, but days before the trial, Raymond Berry and US Radium agreed to allow U.S. District Court Judge William Clark to mediate an out-of-court settlement. Berry and the Radium Girls accepted their opponent’s offer reluctantly, despite learning that their mediator was a US Radium Corporation stockholder. Their situation was too desperate to refuse; the women were not expected to live much longer. Each woman would receive $10,000– equivalent to about $100,000 today– and have all of their medical and legal expenses paid. They would also receive a $600 per year annuity for as long as they lived. Unsurprisingly, few of the annuity payments were collected.

A US Radium ad for "Undark" paint (click for larger view)The last of the famous Radium Girls died in the 1930s, and many other former factory workers died of radium poisoning without finding justice. Later medical research would determine that radium behaves much like calcium inside the body, causing it to concentrate in the teeth and bones. By shaping their brushes with their lips as instructed by their knowledgeable supervisors, the dial painters had ingested anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand microcuries of radium per year. One tenth of a microcurie is now considered to be the maximum safe exposure. Marie Curie herself died of radiation-related ailments in 1934. Because radium has a half-life of 1,600 years, her lab notebooks are said to be too highly contaminated to be safely handled even today. Radium continued to be used to illuminate watches until about 1968, but under much safer conditions.

It is uncertain how many people were sickened or killed by Undark and similar radioactive pigments over the years, but US Radium alone employed an estimated 4,000 radium dial painters. Though they were not the only radium-painting business in the US, they were arguably the most evil. However one positive development did appear in the wake of the women’s legal struggle and subsequent media attention; In 1949 the US Congress passed a bill making all occupational diseases compensable, and extended the time during which workers could discover illnesses and make a claim. Thanks to the Radium Girls and their success in bringing attention to the deplorable conditions in US factories, industrial safety standards in the US were significantly tightened over the following years, an improvement which definitely spared countless others from similar fates.

PRODUCTS I LOVE- I love BLACKBERRY

I have never been a fanatic of mobile phones, I always felt a phone is a phone, the purpose being the same. However, I have come to love my blackberry more than any possession I have got. I was given a blackberry almost a year back as soon as it was launched in UK market. Now lets talk about things I love about my blackberry. It is fancy, the sound of music awesome, the videos excellent,the games mind blowing, the memory perfect. And things I hate about my blackberry: I can't keep off my hands from my lovely phone, I spend too much time playing games, I browse internet too much, I write too much messages to my bf etc etc