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Begin this morning with the lips and the soul of some lyrics"Poiana first memories of Nicolae Labiş,what I have left no comments ...."See the first poiana memories --I kid I was coming towards me,Speak slowly and muşcându thin lips ...- I like. But I have to become better than you ...And me with an innocent pride,Around the center of the forest green circleI feel touched by a sadness-nlăcrămată- Oaf, you ever think that I not try? "If we discover this new "child", happily for us, if not, then we hug and kiss known heavenly Father nor I will be able to truly understand our fellow.The child in us, waiting to be taken into account, to be heard, to grant trust to be consulted, to be loved, spoiled. When all these are negative, that is our style of life shows that we have amandonat child somewhere in the limbo of us, it complains with unspeakable sigh, that all children really toipidu is slow as a candle, but not killed, in hopes that we we remember him and together reânviem to the man in the image and likeness of God.If I understand what reprezină child in November, then it should know that he needs it for food. What cons this food? In knowledge of Christian teachings, in prayer instance, words in the Holy Scriptures, in restraint poftele sinful ....Let us give the child in us what it is to give them priority and our lives will change, to help it grow and grow and we'll through completion, to keep it healthy and will remain and new healthy in faith.Do not forget, all great people were first children ..... but few of them to remember to nun is among them!I conclude with a quote from the book "Here I am God" by Michel Quoist, our hope that at the end of this you should tell you that Nicolae Labiş: "The child that I was coming towards me I""I love children, says the Lord, and I want everyone to be like them.Do not love the old, says the Lord, if you have children left in their hearts.Therefore, we decided that the kingdom to be inhabited my only child!Disabled, hunched, wrinkled, call him what you want, white beard with children, children of all kinds and all soiurule, but they are still children.It is my desire. No longer fit any doubt. Nobody else has what are they doing there ...I love children, says the Lord, because my image in it is untouched.Nothing has diminished my face in them: they are clean, are neantinati are righteous and without any blemish.Thus, when I always lean over her, I just recognize in them.I love children, because their growth was not the end, it rises increasingly more.And started walking towards the sound.When the big, what can I do, says the Lord?They either do not grow, nor is highest.They stopped.It is fatal to them, because they consider that already ....I love children mature, says the Lord, because they continue to fight even if we fall into sin and mistakes ...To understand better, says the Lord, not for love pacatuiesc, but because they know what they do, they even confess this, but try not to fall into sin.No but I love the big, says the Lord, not again wrong against anyone, who can not reproach nicidata anything.What could I forgive them, that they just can not find anything to forgive in nsii.It's sad but, says the Lord. Very sad, because not true.But most children love, says the Lord. I love looking for them. Only there can see and read age.And then the kingdom of me, is inhabited only by children five years old, because not known but most beautiful eyes of these children!But no wonder, says the Lord, because I live in the mysterious heart of them, I am related through the window of their soul.If you ever meet in life go on such a clean, know that I will be smiling through it.Cunsosc but not much more somber, something more pathetic than the image in the eyes of a child which was extinguished seninatatii range.However windows would be wide open house will be empty anyway.There's light, but only two dark lair. There's about, but two eye pupils.Sad sit in front of the door, trembling from the cold .... wait .... bat ...So much I want to go.because he, the child remained alone ...Slowly, slowly it moleseste becomes stiff, dry: old.Poor old man, says the Lord ....Hallelujah, Hallelujah, say the Lord will open the door, poor old man.Here, your God who comes to reanvie raised dinlauntru your baby!Hurry! Now is the time! I am ready to give a face us, beautiful, new born, all eyes have a child.I love children, says the Lord, and I want everyone to be like them ... "
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