Panda Security: wzrost liczby malware uĹźywanych do kradzieĹźy toĹźsamoĹci

Site Admin Dołączył: 02 Wrz 2006 Posty: 0

Oryginalna treść artykułu: Panda Security: wzrost liczby malware używanych do kradzieży tożsamości

Według danych PandaLabs, liczba kodów złośliwych zaprojektowanych przez cyberprzestepców do kradzieży tożsamości wzrosła o 600 proc. w ciągu ostatniego roku.

Dołączył: 19 Lis 2009 Posty: 5

As I stood at the gate in the busy airport waiting for my plane, my mind went back to all the changes in my life during the past months. My marriage had crumbled, leaving me shattered and very confused. My dream of a happy home and children had been dashed. But somehow God was restoring my sense of purpose and desire to follow wherever he led.
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It was just a few days before Christmas. In a matter of minutes, I would board the plane and be on my way to Russia to adopt a six-month-old baby girl.

How it had all happened was amazing in itself. I remember sitting in the living room with friends and quietly sharing my desire for a child. “Well, there’s no reason why you can’t still be a mother,” my friend assured me. “Singles are now adopting.”

I remember how I had smiled at the idea, reminding him that I wasn’t young anymore.

“Oh, I don’t think it will take that long,” he responded, “and anyway, it doesn’t hurt to ask.”
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With that, a seed of hope was planted that I could be a mother. In just six months, I was on my way to Russia to adopt a baby girl named Oksana. Questions flooded my mind. Would she be there when I arrived at the orphanage? Would she be healthy?

I continued to pray as I stuffed my baggage in the overhead compartment. I glanced again at the little picture I had of Oksana. “Lord, please lead me to other people going to Russia to adopt.”

How I feared traveling alone, but there was no one to go with me.
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Before long, in little snippets of conversation, I overheard the words “Russia,” “babies” and “orphanage.”

“Are you going to Moscow?” I asked the woman to my right.

“Yes, my husband and I are going to adopt two children.”

“So am I!” I squealed. “I mean, I’m going to adopt a baby girl.”

From then on, we both talked incessantly. I discovered that they were heading to the same orphanage to be met by the same coordinator. We became fast friends. I whispered a prayer of thanks to God for answering my earlier prayer.
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When the plane landed in Moscow, it was cold and dreary. I immediately sensed the strangeness of the different culture and my language barrier. But then I met our coordinator, who turned out to be a very friendly Russian woman who spoke no English. Her big, warm hugs were so reassuring.

“Is Oksana there?” I asked, having heard stories of people getting to the orphanage, only to discover that the child was no longer there.

“Da,” she answered with a twinkle in her eyes.

“When can we go to the orphanage?” I inquired, ready to go on the overnight train immediately.

“Soon,” the translator said.
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“By Christmas? Will I see her by Christmas?”

“Da. Da,” she answered with a big grin.

I stayed in a simple apartment of a young couple and their three-month-old daughter, Anastasia. Their generosity was overwhelming. Although their living conditions were simple, they willingly shared what they had.

In just a few days, I left with two other couples to travel eight hours north. When we arrived at Borovitchy, we were tired but so excited. After only a few hours of sleep, we went to the orphanage. Walking inside the large brick building that was home to about 400 children, I whispered another prayer. “Just let her be healthy, Lord.”
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As I walked the long hall, I met staff members who were warm and friendly. I saw that the facilities were neat and clean. A tall Russian doctor joined us and smiled when he asked if I was ready to see Oksana.

Was I? I thought my heart was going to burst with such a strange combination of excitement, fear, longing, hope.

Together, we walked down the cement steps, through the long, narrow hall to the infants’ room. They led me to a small room while they went to get the baby. In only a few moments, they were back.

Oh, I’ll never forget that moment for as long as I live! They placed her warm little body in my arms and discreetly stepped out to leave us alone.

“Oh, my,” I whispered in awe. “You are beautiful, darling.”

I gazed at her big brown eyes and flawless skin. I held her hand in mine, counting each finger. I held her close and sang to her softly, “Jesus loves me.” Time stood still.

It was a holy moment, a Christmas moment, a time when the Greatest Giver filled the arms of a hurting single woman with a priceless gift—a baby.

We left the orphanage on Christmas Eve at midnight. My tiny daughter, Noelle Joy Oksana Brani, was wrapped in a soft pink blanket. As I walked out into the night to catch the train back to Moscow, the snow was gently falling. And I thought I could hear the angels singing.

A Miracle of Joy

Dołączył: 05 Gru 2009 Posty: 5

Ivanoushka the Simpleton

In a kingdom far away from our country, there was a town over which ruled the Tsar Pea with his Tsaritza Carrot. He had many wise statesmen, wealthy princes, strong, powerful warriors, and also simple soldiers, a hundred thousand, less one man. In that town lived all kinds of people: honest, bearded merchants, keen and open-handed rascals, German tradesmen, lovely maidens, Russian drunkards; and in the suburbs all around, the peasants tilled the soil, sowed the wheat, ground the flour, traded in the markets, and spent the money in drink.

In one of the suburbs there was a poor hut where an old man lived with his three sons, Thomas, Pakhom, and Ivan. The old man was not only clever, he was wise. He had happened once to have a chat with the devil. They talked together while the old man treated him to a tumbler of wine and got out of the devil many great secrets. Soon after this the peasant began to perform such marvelous acts that the neighbors called him a sorcerer, a magician, and even supposed that the devil was his kin.
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Yes, it is true that the old man performed great marvels. Were you longing for love, go to him, bow to the old man, and he would give you some strange root, and the sweetheart would be yours. If there is a theft, again to him with the tale. The old man conjures over some water, takes an officer along straight to the thief, and your lost is found; only take care that the officer steals it not.

Indeed the old man was very wise; but his children were not his equals. Two of them were almost as clever. They were married and had children, but Ivan, the youngest, was single. No one cared much for him because he was rather a fool, could not count one, two, three, and only drank, or ate, or slept, or lay around. Why care for such a person? Every one knows life for some is brighter than for others. But Ivan was good-hearted and quiet. Ask of him a belt, he will give a kaftan also; take his mittens, he certainly would want to have you take his cap with them. And that is why all liked Ivan, and usually called him Ivanoushka the Simpleton; though the name means fool, at the same time it carries the idea of a kind heart.

Our old man lived on with his sons until finally his hour came to die. He called his three sons and said to them:world of warcraft gold,

"Dear children of mine, my dying hour is at hand and ye must fulfill my will. Every one of you come to my grave and spend one night with me; thou, Tom, the first night; thou, Pakhom, the second night; and thou, Ivanoushka the Simpleton, the third."

Two of the brothers, as clever people, promised their father to do according to his bidding, but the Simpleton did not even promise; he only scratched his head.

The old man died and was buried. During the celebration the family and guests had plenty of pancakes to eat and plenty of whisky to wash them down. Break went on to say that.

Now you remember that on the first night Thomas was to go to the grave; but he was too lazy, or possibly afraid, so he said to the Simpleton:
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"I must be up very early to-morrow morning; I have to thresh; go thou for me to our father's grave."

"All right," answered Ivanoushka the Simpleton. He took a slice of black rye bread, went to the grave, stretched himself out, and soon began to snore.

The church clock struck midnight; the wind roared, the owl cried in the trees, the grave opened and the old man came out and asked:

"Who is there?"

"I,"wedding dress, answered Ivanoushka.

"Well, my dear son, I will reward thee for thine obedience," said the father.

Lo! the cocks crowed and the old man dropped into the grave. The Simpleton arrived home and went to the warm stove.

"What happened?" asked the brothers.

"Nothing," he answered. "I slept the whole night and am hungry now."

The second night it was Pakhom's turn to go to his father's grave. He thought it over and said to the Simpleton:

"To-morrow is a busy day with me. Go in my place to our father's grave."

"All right," answered Ivanoushka. He took along with him a piece of fish pie, went to the grave and slept. Midnight approached, the wind roared, crows came flying, the grave opened and the old man came out.replica watches,

"Who is there?" he asked.

"I," answered his son the Simpleton.

"Well, my beloved son, I will not forget thine obedience," said the old man.

The cocks crowed and the old man dropped into his grave. Ivanoushka the Simpleton came home, went to sleep on the warm stove, and in the morning his brothers asked:

"What happened?"

"Nothing," answered Ivanoushka.

On the third night the brothers said to Ivan the Simpleton:

"It is thy turn to go to the grave of our father. The father's will should be done."

"All right," answered Ivanoushka. He took some cookies, put on his sheepskin, and arrived at the grave.
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At midnight his father came out.

Ivanoushka the Simpleton