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Dear Forum Members ! I am slightly going off the track from our main immigration topic. I want to share a story of a mother and how she protected her baby. MOTHER'S SACRIFICE DURING THE JAPAN EARTHQUAKE This is a true story of Mother's Sacrifice during the Japan Earthquake.
After the Earthquake had subsided, when the rescuers reached the ruins of a young woman's house, they saw her dead body through the cracks. But her pose was somehow strange that she knelt on her knees like a person was worshiping; her body was leaning forward, and her two hands were supporting by an object. The collapsed house had crashed her back and her head.

With so many difficulties, the leader of the rescuer team put his hand through a narrow gap on the wall to reach the woman's body. He was hoping that this woman could be still alive. However, the cold and stiff body told him that she had passed away for sure.
He and the rest of the team left this house and were going to search the next collapsed building. For some reasons, the team leader was driven by a compelling force to go back to the ruin house of the dead woman. Again, he knelt down and used his had through the narrow cracks to search the little space under the dead body. Suddenly, he screamed with excitement,” A child! There is a child! “
The whole team worked together; carefully they removed the piles of ruined objects around the dead woman. There was a 3 months old little boy wrapped in a flowery blanket under his mother's dead body. Obviously, the woman had made an ultimate sacrifice for saving her son. When her house was falling, she used her body to make a cover to protect her son. The little boy was still sleeping peacefully when the team leader picked him up.
The medical doctor came quickly to exam the little boy. After he opened the blanket, he saw a cell phone inside the blanket. There was a text message on the screen. It said,” If you can survive, you must remember that I love you.” This cell phone was passing around from one hand to another. Every body that read the message wept. ” If you can survive, you must remember that I love you.” Such is the mother's love for her child!!
Moral of the story: Our parents would do anything to protect us and save us from the devil.So always put your parents first before anyone else.
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lubob said:
Our parents would do anything to protect us and save us from the devil.So always put your parents first before anyone else.[/color] [/b]

Very inspiring
 
Lulob, indeed a very touching true story......Yes, mother's (Parent's) love in beyond any comparison.

Thanks for sharing......

Mitali
 
I love you mom it is very emotional story

thank you for sharing

Ismael :)
 
A very heart touching and emotional true story.
Thanks for sharing

hmisabpk
 
hmisabpk said:
A very heart touching and emotional true story.
Thanks for sharing

hmisabpk
Thanks for ur appreciation friends and do love ur parents and discourage people putting their parents in oldage homes.Regards.
 
I love my mom very much.. But we've made a painful decision to migrate, hence we will leave her behind -- with my siblings.. If only CIC allows a parent to become part of dependants then i should have included her..

I know there is a Family Class Sponsorship program, but is there another program other than that where we can get in a parent quickly to live with us in Canada permanently? Campbell Cohen says there are 60 options for Canada immigration, I hope one of which answers my question. Without consulting Campbell Cohen, I would highly appreciate if someone from this forum could throw an answer..

Thanks in anticipation!

OJ
 
THE MAIN REASON WHY PEOPLE OF PUNJAB OPT TO MIGRATE TO OTHER COUNTRIES THE COMMON MAN addresses the distressing situation of Punjab in a candid letter to the leaders of the state.

Dear Political Sirs, hope you are all wealthy and healthy to slug it out in the coming elections. However, of equal Iimportance is the fitness of the state where you and I live. Sadly, it has been deteriorating like the nosedive of the fighter jet that fell in our fields a few moons ago.
Sirs, my good name is Common Singh, and I am uneducated. I have got this letter written from my Sahib who said that all the top political leaders were public school educated and thus speak English. So, I write not in the language of the common man, fearing it might not be understood, but in English.

Sirs, my only plead is to give my next generation a chance. My son completed his 10+2 this year but to my utter surprise has come out to be a better cook than a student because that's what he did in school.
Collected fuel, lit the fire and cooked porridge for the mid-day meals. No problem in that.

I can open a dhaba for him but my worry is that yesterday he got back home with a quarter of whiskey.
When I asked him from where he bought it, he told me from a liquor vend in the village playground itself.
Sir, Sahib told me I should be happy that Punjab is becoming like California. He says there are bars in all sports clubs in the West, so why not in Punjab? Yes, he also updated me with the concept of neighbourhood bars of London, and I am proud to say we are matching them peg with peg. All villages have liquor kiosks, where liquor flows through a steel glass chained to a bed, and folks drink throughout the day skipping work. The daily wager leaves early from work should he want one before reaching home to beat his children and wife. Sir, I applaud the very sharp economic sense to get the excise revenue up, but perhaps your babus have not calculated the cumulative loss the state is incurring through non-work and health abuse.

Sirs, I met the local MLA and asked if there was some government plan where the young were counselled and encouraged for entrepreneurship and provided with soft loans. I inquired from him if there was any government `crack department' that watched world trends and took quick decisions to seize the global opportunity? My MLA's response was, “ample funds for village drains, dharamshalas and cremation grounds. Tell me when you want me to come and inaugurate.“ Sirs, I talk about life, and he talks about death. But then I guess the political masters are blessed with the sharpest foresight. They have the vision to anticipate large scale suicides by frustrated unemployed youth and realises how pronto drugs, alcohol and violence will bring them to closer to death than life.

My daughter is in her final year of graduation. She has emerged into this pretty young lady but there are these boys who chase her till home everyday. I have complained to the police but no action has been taken since the boys are members of the youth wings of various political parties.

Dear Sirs, can you please exchange my free tube-well bill for justice. But then you've clubbed me as a small farmer, trader, businessman, and backward class for votes.
But never did you realise that I have the heart of a father too. Nothing is more important to me than the safety of my children. But you care not; even though the new mantra is to write `take care' at the end of every SMS or Facebook message.

Sirs, as I write, surrounding me is a group of youngsters and each one has a different dream. Someone wants to be a poet, artist, writer and someone a creative entrepreneur.
They ask me Common Singh Uncle, “Will we be able to chase our dreams in today's Punjab?“ In other words, will the Punjab brand of politics that backs only brawn, ever back its creative wealth? I tell them go learn kabaddi.

Sirs, I don't care if you wear long or brief underwear; or if the colour of your turban is blue or white; but if you don't stop the ruin, history will be forced to write -`When Punjab was plundered by its very own'.

Thanking You Yours Sincerely Common Singh Punjab