Remember When? GOSPEL TRACTS (pack of 100)

It seems as though it were just yesterday when Mohammed Ali, the three-time heavyweight-boxing champion of the world, was bouncing around the ring, "floating like a butterfly, stinging like a bee." His quick wit, swift feet and pulverising punches won him worldwide recognition, and inducted him into the coveted Hall of Fame. He was named by the Kentucky Senate as "the greatest athlete of all time" and he was no doubt hailed by many as the most confident man alive. His famous sayings still echo in our ears: "I'm not the greatest: I'm the double greatest. Not only do I knock 'em out, I pick the round." "I am the astronaut of boxing. Joe Louis and Dempsey were just jet pilots. I'm in a world of my own." "I'm a baaaadd man!" "I'm the king of the world." It appeared that "the Champ" was simply invincible, until we all blinked and suddenly found him a frail and ailing man, suffering from the advanced stages of Parkinson's Disease. Those hands that he once launched at his opponents, like satellite guided missiles, began to shake uncontrollably. The rapid-fire one-liners were reduced to slowly spoken three-word sentences, and the unforgettable dancing feet no longer moved quite like they once did.

Time took its toll on another one of our celebrated heroes. He was the paragon of superhuman strength: "faster than a speeding bullet; more powerful than a locomotive; able to leap tall buildings in a single bound." We wore his insignia on our T-shirts, and dressed our children in his world famous costume. But while Superman defied the bounds of mortality in the world of make-believe, Christopher Reeve encountered a force more powerful than kryptonite in the real world. It was as though we looked away for a brief moment and, when we looked back, we found America's greatest superhero reduced to the stature of a mere mortal. As a quadriplegic, he exchanged his cape for a wheelchair, his mighty wind-gushing lungs for a ventilator, and his bulletproof, robust body for one that no longer worked.

While the famous are loved and adored by their devoted fans, and the infamous are despised by their enemies, time delivers inevitable death to each, without distinction. These infamous men were the sons of a wicked and powerful dictator. Shrouded in wealth and power from childhood, Uday and Qusay Hussein considered themselves to be untouchable. Their brazen images were broadcast around the globe, as they strutted about with their entourages, puffing on cigars, surrounded by beautiful women. They were larger than life, with countless palatial homes, fleets of exotic automobiles and an assortment of unimaginable luxuries. One minute