Busy as I am every day, I always open my computer and check my email. Most of the time I am simply doing finger exercises, another form of piano practice without beautiful tones. Sometimes, however, I receive a gift, reminding me of the gifts in my life. The following passage is one of those gifts. Peter Jones is a 92-year-old, short, calm and proud man. Every morning he is fully dressed by eight o'clock, with his hair fashionably combed and face perfectly shaved even though hi is unable to see anything. He would move to a nursing home today. His wife of 70 years old has recently passed away, making the move necessary. After hours of waiting patiently in the entrance hall of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready. As he moved his walking stick skillfully to the elevator, the nurse provided a visual description of his tiny room. "I love it," he stated with enthusiasm. "Mr. Jones, you haven't been the room," said the nurse. "That doesn't have anything to do with it," he replied. "Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged...it's how I arrange my mind. I have already decided to love _ It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice: I can spend the day in bed complaining of the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do." Each day is a gift, and as long as we are alive. We'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories we've stored just as Mr. Jones does. What would be the best title for the text?
Each Day is a Gift Be Always Grateful Living in a nursing room Arrange Your Mind Every Day