“Collee’s Aunt Jenny was a WAAC. She had a face like a spade, but she married a good-looking man.” Grandpa began this story the same way, each of the hundred times he told it. My father would grunt, “Dad, we’ve heard this before,” and begin flipping through channels with the volume down. Harvard Health Publications
<em>Tag</em> toastmasters
It was the last night of his tour, and the bells rang 12:00. The house was packed, so he kept talking, trying to cram everything he’d learned into this one meeting. Crash! Everyone jumped, and those at the door ran outside. “He’s dead!” “Who?” “That guy—Eutychus—he fell asleep and tumbled out the window.” “OMIGOSH!” Unless
In second grade, I learned to spell “Miscellaneous” and suddenly noticed everyone around me using that word. Something similar has happened since I joined Toastmasters and started reading a book called The Definitive Book of Body Language. Suddenly I began noticing the gaucheries and the “oh gosh that’s me”s when I watched slouching, giggly or chin-raising
I noticed myself standing still, and it felt good. All afternoon, people wandered through The Compassion Experience. They moved thoughtfully through tin-roofed homes and tiny schoolrooms, listening to the stories of Compassion graduates who had shared their childhood trinkets, traumas and triumphs to help us Westerners understand that poverty exceeds what we’ve seen. Some of