World Blood Donor Day 2025: Why Donating Blood Today Could Save a Life Tomorrow Read More 👇👇👇 https://dailynews24ng.com/world-blood-donor-day-2025-why-donating-blood-today-could-save-a-life-tomorrow/

The Rat Who Wanted to Eat the Sky ⸻ In the lowlands of Uvoko, where millet grew tall and fruit trees leaned with sweetness, lived a rat named Diga. He was small, fast, and full of wild ideas. But of all his dreams, one was the strangest: He wanted to eat the sky. “I will nibble the clouds,” he said. “I will chew the stars like maize.” “I will swallow the moon and save the sun for dessert.” The other animals laughed. “The sky is not food,” said the tortoise. “You barely reach the mango branch!” cackled the parrot. “Dream smaller,” sighed his cousin. But Diga didn’t care. He believed hunger wasn’t just for the stomach—it was for wonder. So he built. He gathered bamboo and vines, old calabash shells and woven baskets. He stacked and tied, climbed and fell, mended and rose. Soon, a towering pillar spiraled into the clouds, shaking with every breeze. The animals watched from below, jaws open. “He’s going to do it,” they whispered. “He’s going to bite the sky.” Diga climbed for days. He passed birds. Surprised bats. Even caught a glimpse of the moon, who blinked nervously. At last, he reached the top—and opened his mouth. But as he bit into the sky, something strange happened. It didn’t taste like anything. It didn’t break. It didn’t fear him. Instead, the sky whispered, “You have come far, but not for food.” Diga blinked. “Then… why did I come?” “To remember that some hungers are not for filling—but for feeling,” the sky answered. And in that moment, Diga understood. He didn’t want to eat the sky. He wanted to touch it. To know it. To believe he could reach something no one thought he could. He smiled, turned around, and began his descent. When he reached the ground, the animals waited. “Did you eat it?” they asked. “No,” he said. “I tasted something better.” “Like what?” “Like belief.” From that day on, Diga didn’t climb the sky. He taught others to dream instead. And whenever a young animal doubted themselves, they were told the tale of the rat who almost swallowed the heavens—but chose wonder instead. ⸻ 3 Moral Lessons: 1. Not all dreams are meant to be achieved—some are meant to stretch you. Diga’s climb wasn’t about conquering, but growing. 2. It’s okay to dream big, even if others laugh. Diga’s boldness inspired a forest that once mocked him. 3. What you seek may not be the answer—but the journey to it is. Diga’s hunger led him not to food, but to faith. ⸻

Nevertheless he saved them for his name’s sake, that he might make his mighty power to be known 🙏

One can ask in prayer from GOD that one shall be able to assist others, because through assisting others one learns oneself.ln teaching others one learns oneself.ln saving others one saves oneself.one has to give before one can receive.One has to give of oneself, given of one's compassion,of one's mercy, until one is able to give of oneself.One is not able to receive from others.One cannot obtain mercy without first showing mercy,one cannot obtain understanding without first having, given understanding to the problem of others.!!! Good morning and enjoyed your day

Dangerfield Newby is the actual man on which the movie D’Jango Unchained is loosely based. He was a member of the John Brown raiders. He joined the gang to save his wife, Harriet and children from slavery. —Dangerfield Newby (1815 – October 17, 1859) was the oldest of John Brown's raiders, one of five black raiders, and the first of his men to die at Harpers Ferry, Virginia. Born into slavery in Fauquier County, Virginia, Newby married a woman also enslaved. Newby's father was Henry Newby, a landowner in Fauquier County. His mother was Elsey Newby, who was a slave, owned not by Henry, but by a neighbor, John Fox. Elsey and Henry lived together for many years and had several children, although interracial marriage was illegal in Virginia. Dangerfield was their first child. Dangerfield Newby, his mother and his siblings were later freed by his father when he moved them across the Ohio River into Bridgeport, Ohio. John Fox, who died in 1859, apparently did not attempt to retrieve Elsey, Dangerfield, or any of his siblings. Dangerfield's wife and their seven children remained in bondage. A letter found on his body revealed some of his motivation for joining John Brown and the raid on Harpers Ferry. Dangerfield Newby's wife, Harriet Newby, was the slave of Jesse Jennings, of Arlington or Warrenton, Virginia. Newby had been unable to purchase the freedom of his wife and seven children. Their master raised the price after Newby had saved the $1,500 that had previously been agreed on. Because all of Newby's other efforts had failed he hoped to free them by force. Harriet's poignant letters, found on his body, proved instrumental in advancing the abolitionist cause. Newby was six foot two. On October 17, 1859, the citizens of Harpers Ferry set to put down the raid. Harpers Ferry manufactured guns but the citizens had little ammunition, so during the assault on the raiders they fired anything they could fit into a gun barrel. One man was shooting six inch spikes from his rifle, one of which struck Newby in the throat, killing him instantly. After the raid, the people of Harpers Ferry took his body, stabbed it repeatedly, and amputated his limbs. His body was left in an alley to be eaten by hogs. In 1899 the remains of Newby-plus remains of nine other raiders-were reburied in a common grave near the body of John Brown in North Elba, New York. Dangerfield Newby's wife, Harriet and her children were sold to a Louisiana slave owner after the raid.

BEAUTY FROM THE ASHES Episode 6 The women’s conference stretched across the week like a divine unfolding, each evening a sacred appointment that Amara hadn’t even known her soul had been craving. It wasn’t just a program; it was an invitation. An invitation to heal, to awaken and to breathe again. The first night had left her in tears. The speaker, a soft-spoken woman with eyes that seemed to hold the weight of a thousand stories, had shared her journey from despair to deliverance. Amara sat quietly in the third row, tears slipping down her cheeks as the words struck something deep, something raw within her. She wasn’t alone. Not in her pain. Not in her confusion. Not even in her silence. Every session after that peeled back another layer of pain, of pride, of fear. Like an onion shedding its skin, Amara found herself slowly unraveling. The masks she had worn for years...the brave wife, the silent sufferer, the spiritual martyr, began to fall. With every worship session, with every testimony, the walls she had so carefully constructed began to crack. Each night, she came home lighter. And each morning, she woke with a little more clarity. It was as if her heart was remembering how to feel again, how to hope. By Thursday, something inside her had shifted. That night’s message felt like it was delivered straight from the throne room of heaven to her wounded heart. The speaker, a fiery preacher with a voice that could calm storms or rouse an army, stood with authority and grace. She read from Isaiah 61:3: “…to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness…” The words echoed through the hall, soaking into the atmosphere like rain on dry soil. Amara closed her eyes and let them wash over her. Beauty for ashes. Joy for mourning. Praise for heaviness. She didn’t know when the tears had started, but they came in quiet streams, not of sorrow, but of release. For the first time in a long time, Amara allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, her story wasn’t over. That perhaps God hadn’t abandoned her in the wreckage of her marriage, but had been waiting in the wings for her to find the strength to choose. Later that evening, Amara sat in Chinwe’s cozy living room, cradling a warm mug of ginger tea. The lights were dim, the air fragrant with the scent of cinnamon and honey. Chinwe sat across from her, legs tucked under her on the couch, listening intently. “I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking for years,” Amara began, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was so sure I was doing God’s will by marrying Eddy. Everyone said I was. And when things turned ugly, I thought... maybe this was my cross. Maybe I was supposed to endure it.” Chinwe reached out and gently took her hand. “Amara,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, “God never asks us to stay in darkness and call it faith. He’s not glorified by your suffering. He’s glorified by your healing, your wholeness, your courage.” Amara looked down, tears pooling again. “But how do I just walk away? I made vows. I kept hoping he’d change. I didn’t want to give up.” “Walking away from abuse isn’t giving up,” Chinwe replied. “It’s waking up. It’s choosing life. God is not a taskmaster. He’s your Father. And He loves you far too much to watch you slowly die in a house where your soul can’t breathe.” A long silence passed between them. “So what do I do now?” Amara finally asked, her voice cracking. Chinwe squeezed her hand. “You choose,” she said softly. “You choose light. You choose life. You choose you.” That night, Amara didn’t sleep much. She lay in her room, staring at the ceiling, thinking of all the moments she had silenced herself for the sake of peace, all the prayers she had whispered in the darkness, asking God to change Eddy, to save their home. But something had shifted. She realized she had been praying for resurrection in a grave she was never meant to lie in. The next morning, the storm arrived. Eddy came home with a man and started raining abuses on Amara; " See this idiot! You think you can come from African part of Nigeria to outsmart me that came from American part of Nigeria? It's either you hand over the school to me, channel all income to my account or I make sure the school is closed down completely." Her children, all came out to watch helplessly as usual. As Amara was trying to explain to the man he came home with, Eddy rushed Amara and started pounding her, targeting her face and bragging that he must make sure Amara becomes useless to any other man in this life; "By the time I'm done with you, people would spit on you at sight" Eddy continued hitting Amara until she collapsed on the floor. The poor man that came to ask for money to feed his family couldn't help the situation. When Amara regained consciousness, she saw only her children crying and waking her up. She sent for Chinwe. Chinwe immediately and secretly arranged for a drop that took them to Divine Mercy Hospital. The doctor was furious and demanded for his presence. When he arrived, he pleaded with the doctor that it's devil's handwork. As soon as he sighted Amara's brother, he begged Amara not to tell her brother but mocked her immediately her brother left. It's already few days Amara returned from hospital. Pastor Dickson visited their house. Bro Eddy pls kindly tell your wife what you shared with me. Eddy hesitated. "Sister Amara, your husband impregnated a lady called Jacinta and asked her to keep the baby. Although the lady insisted he must furnish a flat for her otherwise she will terminate the pregnancy. He was mad against you because he was having a showdown financially and couldn't meet the lady's demands and you refused to hand your income over to him." Pastor Dickson explained. Amara was lost in thought...so this man wanted me dead because of women. She remembered how he was bashed by one of his customers when she visited at the hospital. "Eddy, were you not the one that that told me this woman gave up her 12month salaries for you to have an English machine? Why are you treating this woman as if she worths nothing?" Mrs Aleme queried "How dare her say no to my order, a woman that bends to urinate? She must hand over the school to me. My account must be used for all income!" he thundered. But she has left the factory for you. The woman reminded And then? Eddy persisted. To Be Continued 🙏 What do you think that happened next? Find out in the next episode 🤔 Pls encourage me with like, follow, comment and share. God bless you 👏 ©️Grace Amarachi #teacherwritersingerlover #BeautyFromTheAshes #ChristianFiction #FaithAndResilience

Even gold cannot save only Jesus

Wike Reveals How Prayer Saved Him From Plane Crash After Engine Failure | Naija News TV https://youtu.be/316heLCe7Jk

Nigerians, why did Bola Tinubu declined to issue an award to Professor Nnenna Oti the lady who saved the Abia State?

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DONT BE QUICK TO JUDGE At a wedding ceremony the Pastor​ asked if there was anyone who had any reason why the marriage shouldn't go on; it was time to stand up and speak, or forever let them hold their peace. The moment of utter silence was interrupted by a young beautiful woman carrying a child. She started walking slowly toward the Pastor​. Everything quickly turned to chaos. The bride slapped the groom. The groom's mother fainted. The bridal trail scooted towards the door. The groom's men huddled together like a bereaved flock, wondering how best to help save the situation. The Pastor asked the woman, "Can you tell us why you came forward? What do you have to say?" The woman replied, "I can't hear from the back."😁😁😁😁😁😁😁 *LESSON*: Hold judgment until you've had all the facts. However, many times we Jump Into Conclusion quickly and beautiful relationships are ruined. Don't Be Quick To Judge Anyone😥🙏 🗣Hope I Am Communicating?

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