Why "GladCasting"?

I am frequently asked about the source for the name "GladCasting University". Who among you has never read the 1913 best-selling novel, Pollyanna by Eleanore Porter? Or seen the movie version of this great story? My offering here is based upon a game introduced in chapter five of Pollyanna...."The Game"!  The movie refers to the "Glad game", the novel calls it the "just being glad" game. I have posted herein, chapter five of Ms. Porter's Pollyanna.......

CHAPTER V. THE GAME

‘For the land’s sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,’ panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just regretfully slid.
‘Scare? Oh, I’m so sorry; but you mustn’t, really, ever get scared about me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies’ Aid used to do it, too, till they found I always came back all right.’ ‘But I didn’t even know you’d went,’ cried Nancy, tucking the little girl’s hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. ‘I didn’t see you go, and nobody didn’t. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I do, I do.’ Pollyanna skipped gleefully. 
‘I did, ‘most—only I flew down instead of up. I came  down the tree.’
Nancy stopped short. ‘You did—what?’ ‘Came down the tree, outside my window.’
‘My stars and stockings!’ gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. ‘I’d like ter know what yer aunt would say ter that!’ ‘Would you? Well, I’ll tell her, then, so you can find out,’ promised the little girl, cheerfully. ‘Mercy!’ gasped Nancy. ‘No—no!’ ‘Why, you don’t mean she’d CARE!’ cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.

‘No—er—yes—well, never mind. I—I ain’t so very particular about knowin’ what she’d say, truly,’ stammered Nancy, determined to keep one scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. ‘But, say, we better hurry. I’ve got ter get them dishes done, ye know.’ ‘I’ll help,’ promised Pollyanna, promptly. ‘Oh, Miss Pollyanna!’ demurred Nancy.
For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna took a firmer hold of her friend’s arm. ‘I reckon I’m glad, after all, that you DID get scared—a little, ‘cause then you came after me,’ she shivered. ‘Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I—I’m afraid you’ll have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn’t like it—because you didn’t come down ter supper, ye know.’ ‘But I couldn’t. I was up here.’ ‘Yes; but—she didn’t know that, you see!’ observed Nancy, dryly, stifling a chuckle. ‘I’m sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am.’ ‘Oh, I’m not. I’m glad.’ ‘Glad! Why?’ ‘Why, I like bread and milk, and I’d like to eat with you. I don’t see any trouble about being glad about that.’ ‘You don’t seem ter see any trouble bein’ glad about everythin’,’ retorted Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna’s brave attempts to like the bare little attic room.
Pollyanna laughed softly. ‘Well, that’s the game, you know, anyway.’ ‘The—GAME?’
‘Yes; the ‘just being glad’ game.’ ‘Whatever in the world are you talkin’ about?’

Why, it’s a game. Father told it to me, and it’s lovely,’ rejoined Pollyanna. ‘We’ve played it always, ever since I was a little, little girl. I told the Ladies’ Aid, and they played it—

some of them.’ ‘What is it? I ain’t much on games, though.’ Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering twilight her face looked thin and wistful. 
‘Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel.’ ‘CRUTCHES!’
‘Yes. You see I’d wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn’t any dolls come in, but the little crutches had. So she
sent ‘em along as they might come in handy for some child, sometime. And that’s when we began it.’ ‘Well, I must say I can’t see any game about that, about that,’ declared Nancy, almost irritably. ‘Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be glad about—no matter what ‘twas,’ rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. ‘And we began right then—on the crutches.’
‘Well, goodness me! I can’t see anythin’ ter be glad about— gettin’ a pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!’
Pollyanna clapped her hands. ‘There is—there is,’ she crowed. ‘But I couldn’t see it, either,
Nancy, at first,’ she added, with quick honesty. ‘Father had to tell it to me.’ ‘Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME,’ almost snapped Nancy. ‘Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don’t—NEED—
‘EM!’ exulted Pollyanna, triumphantly. ‘You see it’s just as easy—when you know how!’
‘Well, of all the queer doin’s!’ breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna with almost fearful eyes.
‘Oh, but it isn’t queer—it’s lovely,’ maintained Pollyanna enthusiastically. ‘And we’ve played it ever since. And the harder ‘tis, the more fun ‘tis to get ‘em out; only—only sometimes it’s  almost too hard—like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn’t anybody but a Ladies’ Aid left.’ ‘Yes, or when you’re put in a snippy little room ‘way at the top of the house with nothin’ in it,’ growled Nancy. Pollyanna sighed. ‘That was a hard one, at first,’ she admitted, ‘specially when I was so kind of lonesome. I just didn’t feel like playing the game, anyway, and I HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I hated to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely picture out the window, too; so then I knew I’d found the things to be glad about. You see, when you’re hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the other kind—like the doll you wanted, you know.’ ‘Humph!’ choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. ‘Most generally it doesn’t take so long,’ sighed Pollyanna;
‘and lots of times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I’ve got so used to playing it. It’s a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it so much,’ she faltered. ‘I suppose, though, it—it’ll be a little harder now, as long as I haven’t anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will play it, though,’ she added, as an after-thought. 
‘My stars and stockings!—HER!’ breathed Nancy, behind her teeth. Then, aloud, she said doggedly: ‘See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain’t sayin’ that I’ll play it very well, and I ain’t sayin’ that I know how, anyway; but I’ll play it with ye, after a fashion—I just will, I will!’
‘Oh, Nancy!’ exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. ‘That’ll be splendid! Won’t we have fun?’ ‘Er—maybe,’ conceded Nancy, in open doubt. ‘But you mustn’t count too much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games. but I’m a-goin’ ter make a most awful old try on this one. You’re goin’ ter have some one ter play it with, anyhow,’ she finished, as they entered the kitchen together. Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy’s suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading. Miss Polly looked up coldly. ‘Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?’ ‘Yes, Aunt Polly.’ ‘I’m very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you into the kitchen to eat bread and milk.’ ‘But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and Nancy, too. You mustn’t feel bad about that one bit.’
Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair. ‘Pollyanna, it’s quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day, and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be careful how you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See that you are down to that. Good-night.’
Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt’s side and gave her an affectionate hug. ‘I’ve had such a beautiful time, so far,’ she sighed happily. I know I’m going to just love living with you but then, I  knew I should before I came. Good-night,’ she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room. ‘Well, upon my soul!’ ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud.
‘What a most extraordinary child!’ Then she frowned. ‘She’s ‘glad’ I punished her, and I ‘mustn’t feel bad one bit,’ and she’s going to ‘love to live’ with me! Well, upon my soul!’
ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her book. 
Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed into the tightly-clutched sheet:
‘I know, father-among-the-angels, I’m not playing the game one bit now—not one bit; but I don’t believe even you could find anything to be glad about sleeping all alone ‘way off up here in the dark—like this. If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies’ Aider, it would be easier!’
Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work, jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered Jerkily: ‘If playin’ a silly-fool game—about bein’ glad you’ve got crutches when you want dolls—is got ter be—my way—o’ bein’ that rock o’ refuge—why, I’m a-goin’ ter play it—I am, I am!’

I would encourage you to acquire a copy of Pollyana by Eleanor Porter. Ebook pdf copies are available  free online from several sources. Check it our from your local library.  Enjoy and learn ways YOU can change the world.

Always Retain in Remembrance the Greatness of God

"And again I say unto you as I have said before, that as ye have come to the knowledge of the glory of God, or if ye have known of his goodness and have tasted of his love, and have received a remission of your sins, which causeth such exceedingly great joy in your souls, even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness, and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility,  calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken by the mouth of the angel."

Jonah and a Whale of a Tale

(true story from a recent summer)......

Last night, just after we had concluded our typical Monday family get-together, someone was knocking at our door. As my son answered the knock, we observed a young man anxious to visit with the “parents of the house”.

He politely introduced himself as Jonah from Baltimore. He was associated with a youth sales team of “inner city” youth. Jonah had a miracle cleaner to present. My son, Michael had just baked a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies. So my generous ex-wife offered him a couple of cookies.

As Jonah performed his product demo, we had an interesting discussion regarding overcoming obstacles. He was telling of some of his encounters with customers in his door-to-door sales contacts, the most spectacular being the “gentleman” who answered the door with a double barrel shotgun! The man's wife began asking him product questions with the shotgun pointed to his chest. As Jonah casually answered her questions, he began demonstrating his cleaner by shining the chromed barrels of the shotgun! She bought his product!

Now, whether Jonah was stretching the reality, or not, is of minor significance. I believe the tale has merit. As we work toward our successes in life and business, we will encounter “opportunities” (a positive reference for challenges). Our growth and success is totally dependent upon our response to these opportunities!

Views and Ideals...

by James Allen    (from the book, "As A Man Thinketh")

Dream lofty dreams and as you dream,
so shall you become.
Your vision is the promise
of what you shall one day be.
Your ideal,
is the prophecy
you will at last unveil.
The greatest achievement
was at first and for a time a dream.
The oak sleeps in the acorn,
the bird waits in the egg,
and in the highest vision of the soul,
a waking angel stirs.
For dreams,
are the seedlings of reality.
Your circumstances may be unpleasant,
but they shall not long remain so,
if you but perceive of an ideal
and strive to achieve it.
For you can not travel within
and stand still without.......................................................

The Doctor's Advice

Bee Happy by Being Anxiously Engaged in a Good Cause

I recently reviewed an article of interest about a spritual lesson to be learned from the honey bee! The article was the text of a talk by M. Russel Ballard, I have included a portion of that herein:

"My father always tried to involve me in his work with his hives, but I was very happy to let him tend to his bees. However, since those days, I have learned more about the highly organized beehive—a colony of about 60,000 bees.

Honeybees are driven to pollinate, gather nectar, and condense the nectar into honey. It is their magnificent obsession imprinted into their genetic makeup by our Creator. It is estimated that to produce just one pound (0.45 kg) of honey, the average hive of 20,000 to 60,000 bees must collectively visit millions of flowers and travel the equivalent of two times around the world. Over its short lifetime of just a few weeks to four months, a single honeybee’s contribution of honey to its hive is a mere one-twelfth of one teaspoon.

Though seemingly insignificant when compared to the total, each bee’s one-twelfth of a teaspoon of honey is vital to the life of the hive. The bees depend on each other. Work that would be overwhelming for a few bees to do becomes lighter because all of the bees faithfully do their part."

Perhaps, if each of us would spend more of our time and energies in sharing the burdens of our families and communities, and less worrying over our challenges, we would find a measure of relief from our own burdens. (Republished from 03/08/2013)

There,but for the grace of God, go I!

A must READ - " Good morning," said a woman as she walked up to the man sitting on the ground.

The man slowly looked up.

This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new.. She looked like she had never missed a meal in her life.

His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before.. "Leave me alone," he growled....

To his amazement, the woman continued standing.

She was smiling -- her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the president. Now go away."

The woman's smile became even broader. Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm.

"What are you doing, lady?" the man asked angrily. "I said to leave me alone.

Just then a policeman came up. "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked..

"No problem here, officer," the woman answered. "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet. Will you help me?"

The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?"

"See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."

"Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted. "I don't want to go in there!" Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up. "Let me go, officer. I didn't do anything."

"This is a good deal for you, Jack" the officer answered. "Don't blow it.."

Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner. It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived...

The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by his table. "What's going on here, officer?" he asked. "What is all this, is this man in trouble?"

"This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.

"Not in here!" the manager replied angrily. "Having a person like that here is bad for business.."

Old Jack smiled a toothless grin. "See, lady. I told you so. Now if you'll let me go. I didn't want to come here in the first place."

The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled....... "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"

"Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently. "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."

"And do you make a godly amount of money providing food at these weekly meetings?"

"What business is that of yours?"

I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, president and CEO of the company."

"Oh."

The woman smiled again. "I thought that might make a difference." She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a giggle. "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"

"No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied. "I'm on duty."

"Then, perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"

"Yes, ma’am. That would be very nice."

The cafeteria manager turned on his heel, "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."

The officer watched him walk away. "You certainly put him in his place," he said.

"That was not my intent. Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this."

She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest. She stared at him intently.. "Jack, do you remember me?"

Old Jack searched her face with his old, rheumy eyes. "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar."

"I'm a little older perhaps," she said. "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."

"Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly. He couldn't believe that such a magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry.

"I was just out of college," the woman began. "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything. Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment. I walked the streets for days. It was February and I was cold and nearly starving. I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."

Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said.. "I was behind the serving counter. You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat. I said that it was against company policy."

"I know," the woman continued. "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it. I was afraid that you would get into trouble... Then, when I looked over and saw you put the price of my food in the cash register, I knew then that everything would be all right."

"So you started your own business?" Old Jack said.

"I got a job that very afternoon. I worked my way up. Eventually I started my own business that, with the help of God, prospered." She opened her purse and pulled out a business card.. "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons...He's the personnel director of my company. I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office." She smiled. "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet... If you ever need anything, my door is always opened to you."

There were tears in the old man's eyes. "How can I ever thank you?" he said.

"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. Thank Jesus...... He led me to you."

Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways....

"Thank you for all your help, officer," she said.

"On the contrary, Ms. Eddy," he answered. "Thank you. I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget. And.. And thank you for the coffee."

God is going to shift things around for you today and let things work in your favor.

If you believe, send it.

If you don't believe, delete it.

God closes doors no man can open & God opens doors no man can close..

If you need God to open some doors for you...send this on.

 

(facebook posting by Rhonda White Cable)