Skip to main content

WHY IS THE WEDDING RING WORN ON THE 4TH FINGER?

Hi check it out..This is very interesting!


Why should the wedding ring be worn on the fourth finger?


There is a beautiful and convincing explanation given by the Chinese.....

Thumb represents your Parents Second (Index) finger represents your Siblings Middle finger represents your-Self Fourth (Ring) finger represents your Life Partner & the Last (Little) finger represents your children Firstly, open your palms (face to face), bend the middle fingers and hold them together - back to back Secondly, open and hold the remaining three fingers and the thumb - tip to tip (As shown in the figure below):


Now, try to separate your thumbs (representing the parents)..., they will open, because your parents are not destined to live with you lifelong, and have to leave you sooner or later Please join your thumbs as before and separate your Index fingers (representing siblings)...., they will also open, because your brothers and sisters will have their own families and will have to lead their own separate lives.


Now join the fingers and separate your Little fingers (representing your children)...., they will open too, because the children also will get married and settle down on their own some day. Finally, join your Little fingers, and try to separate your Ring fingers (representing your spouse). You will be surprised to see that you just CANNOT....., because Husband & Wife have to remain together all their lives - through thick and thin!!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Salty Coffee

He met her on a party. She was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her, while he so normal, nobody paid attention to him. At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised, but due to being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, she thought, please, let me go home.... suddenly he asked the waiter. "would you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee." Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red, but still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously; why you have this hobby? He replied: "when I was a little boy, I was living near the sea, I like playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living ther...
6 comments
Read more

The Little Gardener's Surprise

Once upon a time in a small town, there lived a little girl named Lily who had a magical garden. Lily loved spending her afternoons tending to her flowers, talking to the butterflies, and singing to the plants. One sunny day, as Lily watered her tulips, she noticed a tiny door nestled among the stems.  To her surprise, it swung open, revealing a world of miniature creatures living in harmony with her garden. There were ladybugs in polka-dot houses, fairies weaving dewdrop dresses, and even a wise old snail reading poetry to a cluster of mushrooms.   Lily was overjoyed to discover these magical friends and decided to organize a tiny garden party. She crafted daisy hats for the fairies and set up a banquet of sweet nectar for the butterflies. The ladybugs brought their musical instruments, and the snail recited his favorite poems.   As the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky into a canvas of warm hues, Lily and her newfound friends danced under the twin...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Language of Steam and Ink

 Every Tuesday at 4:00 PM, the world narrowed down to the size of a chipped marble counter and the scent of roasted beans. Maya stepped into The Ivy Nook , the bells above the door chiming a familiar greeting. Sunlight filtered through the dusty windows, catching the steam rising from the espresso machine in a way that made the whole place feel like a dream sequence. And there he was—Liam. He didn’t ask for her order. He never had to. With a soft smile and a smudge of flour on his forearm that Maya found inexplicably endearing, he began the ritual. The rhythmic hiss of the milk, the steady pour, and then the moment that made Maya’s heart do a clumsy somersault: the doodle. Using a fine-tipped marker, he sketched a tiny, perfect bicycle on the side of her paper cup. He slid the latte toward her. Their fingers brushed—a fleeting, electric contact—and they locked eyes. For a long minute, neither moved. Maya felt a profound sense of belonging. He knows, she thought. He feels the same...
Post a Comment
Read more