/ http://www.slideshare.net/images/logo.gif / ºÝºÝߣShare feed for ºÝºÝߣshows by User: nmuge https://public.slidesharecdn.com/v2/images/profile-picture.png J'ai quitté mon pays, j'ai quitté ma maison Ma vie, ma triste vie se traîne sans raison J'ai quitté mon soleil, j'ai quitté ma mer bleue Leurs souvenirs se reveillent, bien après mon adieu Soleil, soleil de mon pays perdu... Toward the end of Sunday service, the Minister asked, 'How many of you have forgiven your enemies?' 80% held up their hands. The Minister then repeated his question. All responded this time, except one small elderly lady. 'Miss Joyce''; 'Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?' I don't have any..' She replied, smiling sweetly. 'Miss Joyce', that is very unusual. How old are you?' 'Ninety-eight.' she replied. 'Oh, Miss. Joyce, wo