A Girl With An Apple And More ... :) Shangy! >Here are the details on our Yahoo ShangyFunList: To Subscribe send a blank email to ShangyFunList-subscribe@yahoogroups.com To UnSubscribe send a blank email to ShangyFunList-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com Group home page: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ShangyFunList Through no fault of my own we suddenly became an adult club in the love and romance directory so you will have to confirm that you are an adult when you go here. I still have no idea how to change this back as it sends me around in a circle when I try! or Web Site: http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/ShangyFunList.html Group email address: ShangyFunList@yahoogroups.com or email me here: bcrsystems@earthlink.net ================ *~* A REMINDER: PLEASE Send me sweet, interesting, funny, inspiring, family type forwards ANY TIME here... bcrsystems@earthlink.net I Need them, Love them, Use them, and Share them! THANK YOU!! ================ "We are each of us angels with but one wing, and can only fly by embracing each other" -Luciano Decrescenzo ~ CALLING ALL CARING ANGELS ~ . `: : : . __.'_ .' : _.--' `-._.' .-'.. .. `. : .-. .--.`. : : : : : : : : :`;; :`; ; : `.`O;' `O;.' : .' .---. .--. ; . : '._ :' ; :: : .-`-.; . .' .': `. ``` `. :-' : : `-.__ ._ _.' : ; : ;``` : `. _.-.' . ``-._ : `.-' : : `-. : _.: ` `-._ `, `._.-' ; `.`-. ;_, _., : `.: ;' ;-' ; : ``.___.' : : ;_..--' `. ; `-.__ ...' : : : jgs :-:__; : : : .-~~~--..__: : :___..---.. .'.' : `, :,' : `; ; `: _.'`._ :,' `~~~'----'' `'-.____....' *~* WE NEED CARING And SHARING Angels For 2011 *~* >Do You Want To Be A Shangrala Angel? If you'd like to help and be counted as a 2011 Shangrala Angel, please visit the site and click on the donate button. A Secure PAYPAL page comes up. Any amount is greatly appreciated and needed! PLEASE Visit Shangrala to Help: http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/index.html OR If you'd rather send us a donation, Please MAIL it here: Elrhea Bigham 502 S. Harrison Van Wert, OH 45891 *~* THANK YOU! MAY GOD BLESS ALL OUR ANGELS MOST ABUNDANTLY! ================ >-->2 Hot Off The 'Shangy' Press :) We have a sizzling hot one here! It comes from a forward from our friend PatDeE. Be sure to check this one out! , .-'"'=;_ , |\.'-~`-.`-`;/| \.` '.'~-.` './ (\`,__=-'__,'/) _.-'-.( d\_/b ).-'-._ /'.-' ' .---. ' '-.`\ /' .' (= (_) =) '. `\ /' .', `-.__.-.__.-' ,'. `\ ( .'. V V ; '. ) ( |:: `-,__.-.__,-' ::| ) | /|`:. .:'|\ | | / | `:. :' |`\ | | | ( :. .: ) | | | | ( `:. :' ) | | | | \ :. .: / | | | | \`:. .:'/ | | ) ( `\`:. .:'/' ) ( ( `)_ ) `:._.:' ( _(` ) \ ' _) .' `. (_ ` / \ '_) / .'"```"'. \ (_` / `'"` \ ( ) / `"'` ___ jgs `.`. .'.' ___ .` ``"""'''--`_) (_'--'''"""`` `. (_(_(___...--'"'` `'"'--...___)_)_) Identity Theft 3! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/identitytheft3.html --- ...LOL! I loved this! Thanks PatDeE! -<>- This second hottie is from a forward from our friend Becky. So cute it will delight you! Give it time to load... _.-"""-._ / _ _ \ / (9) (9) \ /_, ,_\ | \ / | _ \ \._____./ / __ \`\ \ \___/ / _| \ \ `\ /\ /\ \ / | `\/ /`'-----'`\ \/ / |_|\/ / \ / / /| |\_/ \___/ | | \ \ . | | \ \| | | | | `. .' | \ `-.___.-' / `\ | /' jgs `\ | /' .-.-.`\ | /'.-.-. (,(,(,`^ | ^`,),),) '-'-'-----`-----'-'-' A Love Story http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/lovestory.html --- ...So darling! Thanks Becky! =============================================================== >-->From Heartwarmers: _.---.( ..--._) (_.' `''-.'` `'. / / \_) (_| _,.-'""'-,-'""'-.,_ | \ /.--' '--.\ /_) ,__\ ) (_(_( )_)_) ) /__, \ (_, ( o) ( o) / / `--.-` '-' c '-' `-'-` (O\ (O) jgs '-.....__w__.....-' THE PAGES LONG FORGOTTEN by Michael T. Smith John stepped into the used bookstore and smiled as he smelled the old pages. Here was a wealth of old stories, history waiting to be read, and a host of other joys. On a back shelf, he found what he was looking for... They'd served their use to those who once held them dear, but now gathered dust in the darkest corner of the store. They were Italian, American, French and Greek. They contained secrets from around the world. There were collections of chicken, beef, pastries, bread, and desserts. They waited, hidden in a little explored part of the store, and hoped someone discovered their treasures. John knew what to do. He picked one up, held the spine in his hand and let the book fall open. They always opened to the most used pages, the recipes loved by lost generations. The page in front of him was for a recipe called "Beef-filled cornbread." The picture showed a delicious layer of meat and cheese, layered with cornbread and covered with a hot sauce. The pages were stained with splatters of tomato sauce. It was obviously a favorite of the previous owners. He'd try this one. Those used the most are the best. He found several other books, each with its own marked pages, and carried them to the counter to make his purchase. "I hope you found something you like," the cashier said. "Oh yes. Very much! I'm sure these are exactly to my taste." He paid for his purchase, left the store and carried them in a bag on his way to work. In the locker room, he placed his books on the top shelf and changed into his scrubs. The recipes would wait. He had a duty. Freshly dressed, he walked his floor. "Hello, Mrs. Smith!" He smiled at the elderly lady sitting in the sun room reading a book. In her day, she must have been a beautiful woman. She still was, for a woman in her eighties. "How was your day?" "Horrible!" she growled. He sat beside her, held her hand and looked into her eyes. "My grandson didn't visit me," she continued. "He promised me he'd be here today." She adjusted her shawl and tried to hide the tears about to spill from her wizened eyes. "Maybe tomorrow," he replied. "You know how busy these young people are." He noted the tear in the corner of her eye and changed subject. "Mrs. Smith, didn't you tell me you lived during the great depression?" A smile came to her face. "Oh, yes. What a time that was. There was no work, ya know. But we survived." "How did you get by?" "Well, we all worked together. Everyone worked together. We helped each other." She frowned. "It's not like today, where people are too busy to worry about anyone but themselves. In those days, we worked together. If you didn't, you starved." "It must have been a hard time, Mrs. Smith. I don't know how you did it." "I didn't," she grinned. "We did. We did it together, the neighbors and my family." He left her smiling and hoped her grandson paid a visit the next day. He moved down the hall and stepped into Mr. Walker's room. "Hey, Walk! How's things?" He used the name Walk, as all the others in the center called him. It made Walk feel comfortable. Mr. Walker looked up from a puzzle he leaned over. "Could be better, John. This damn puzzle has me stumped. These eyes aren't what they used to be." "I know, Walk. Just take your time. There's no rush." "There is too," Walk chuckled. "I need to finish it before I die." "Not too soon I hope," John said. "Say! Have I told you about the guy who walks into a bar with a giraffe under his arm?" John chuckled. Walk loved a good joke. "I don't believe you have." Walk's face broke out in a smile. "You see, this guy walks into a bar with a giraffe under his arm. He has a few beers. The giraffe falls asleep on the floor. The bartender looks down, sees the giraffe and asks, 'What's that lying on the floor?' The guy says, 'That's not a lion! That's a giraffe.'" Walk broke into a laugh that turned into a coughing spell. John slapped him on the back. "Come on, Walk. Cough it up." Walk got himself under control. "You're OK now. I got your back." "I know about covering someone's back." Walk sat straight in his seat. "I was in WWII ya know." "I heard that. Did you have a hard time?" John asked. "John, you have no idea. It was the winter of '41, or was it '42. I can't remember now. Snow was up to here." Walk pointed to his thigh. "We were on the front. The enemy was closeŠ" Thirty minutes later, John said, "WOW! That's a story, Walk. I knew you were in the war, but I don't think I ever thanked you. I want to say, Thank you. You made us safe." "Ah, stop it. It was nothing," Walk turned to his puzzle, too embarrassed to continue their talk. He and others knew what they did, but don't want to take credit. It's an unspoken rule between the veterans. They did what they had to. John continued on his rounds, held hands, shared hugs and listened. Here they were, like the cookbooks, sitting in dark corners, ignored. John knew what to do. He held them, let their hearts fall open, and found the pages stained with use. They are the most valued. They are the pages long forgotten. -- Michael T. Smith =============================================================== >-->From Our Friend Johanna :) ~ZIGGY~ ___---___ .-- --. ./ \. / o \ / .. o | | ;` '. | | : : | | `._ _.' | | ``--.-' .- |. .| _.'| | : : \ `--'--' / : : \ / : : `\ /' : : `--___ ___--' : : --- _.' `-._ ~~/ \____...-' `\ :_. `----./ / |`` . ._: :_:_:_: |__ ~~~ _.-`._:._:-' /``````---``` \ jgs / | \ ____/ | \___ __.--'' | ```---..__ `\ _| _.' `\ _.-'' `-._ _.' `\ .-' `-._ _.' `\ .' `-._.' "Daily Encounter by Richard (Dick) Innes (c) 2009 ACTS International. Today's Daily Encounter Freedom of Religion Vs Freedom of Worship "We [the High Priest] gave you strict orders not to teach in this name," he said. "Yet you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and are determined to make us guilty of this man's blood." Peter and the other apostles replied: "We must obey God rather than men!"1 In his weekly American News Commentary Jerry Beavan wrote, "We pointed out that since November, 2009, Mr. Xxxxx and his people have been using the term "Freedom of Worship," instead of the traditional "Freedom of Religion" as provided in the United States Constitution. In 2009, two clergymen, Dr. Gary Dull and Rev. David Kistler, announced in Washington the formation of The Faith and Freedom Institute (TFFI), to stress the Christian principles which have made America great. . . . TFFI points out that "Freedom of Worship" would force people to practice their faith behind closed doors." "Freedom of Worship" can be extremely deceptive in that it can totally eliminate "Freedom of Religion." Freedom of worship means we would be free to worship as we please in the privacy of our own home but not necessarily anywhere else. Furthermore, without freedom of religion preaching against certain behaviors that God's Word condemns and calls sin, could be labeled as hate crimes and, as such, be punishable by law that could include a prison term. Freedom of worship could, in time, prohibit the preaching of the Gospel and Word of God in churches and in any public place or arena throughout the country. Be not deceived, politicians can be extremely gifted in the use of words to deny reality and deceive the masses. The thin end of the wedge for controlling what churches can or cannot preach in the years ahead is already being forged. Recently I received an email message from a young man in a Muslim country where there is no freedom of religion. This fellow wanted to know how he could pray to Jesus, telling me that if he got caught, he would get his throat slit. For Muslims, praying means praying out loud and often in public. So I told him that he could safely pray to Jesus in the privacy of his own dwelling if he were alone, or just in the quiet of his mind and heart. With the ever increasing anti-Christian attitude by so many here in North America wanting to get rid of God and every vestige of Christianity from the public arena, if/when we are forbidden to speak out against and/or preach the full council of God's Word, will we, like the disciples of Jesus also say, "We must obey God rather than men" and be willing to pay the consequences? --- ...Thank You Johanna! .-., ,.-. '-. /:::\\ //:::\ .-' '-.\|':':' `"` ':':'|/.-' `-./`. .-=-. .-=-. .`\.-` /=- / | \ -=\ ; | | | ; |=-.|______|______|.-=| |== \ 0 /_\ 0 / ==| |= /'---( )---'\ =| \ \: .'. :/ / `\= '--` `--' =/' jgs `-=._ _.=-' `"""` My Two Cents... This is why I believe in voting the Godly moral vote instead of the straight ticket of Republican, Democrat, etc. God must ALWAYS come first. AND I do not want to hear from those who protest saying it is religion that has caused so much hatred and fighting in government. Perhaps it is, But I am not a religious person. I believe in God and my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Neither one will put my country in harms way but rather improve and protect it. I take the consequences of my vote seriously. That is why I choose to vote the Godly moral vote. God gives us freedom to do as we please but with that freedom comes consequences of our actions. We can not blame God for the choices we have made in this life. I did not vote for our President but will as the bible teaches pray for him and all our lawmakers and law upholders. When 2012 comes around, I will not vote for him but for one whom I feel is more qualified and has strong Godly morals to lead our country. I will pray for wisdom from God for that knowledge and understanding. ================================================================ >-->From Laugh And Lift: _.._ _..---. .-" ;-" \ / / | | | _= | ; _.-'\__.-') | `-' | | ; | /; / _, .-.;.-=-./-""-.-` _` / | \ \-` `, | | | | |____|______| | \0 / \0 / / .--.-""-.`--' .' (# ) , \ ('--' /\` \ \ ,, .' \ `-._ _.'\ \ jgs `""` \ \ >The Presence of His Love (By Rev. John F. Perling) [Edited] The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. She paid the driver and, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle and found the seat he'd told her was empty. Then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and rested her cane against her leg. It had been a year since Susan, thirty-four, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-pity. Once a fiercely independent woman, Susan now felt condemned by this terrible twist of fate to become a powerless, helpless burden on everyone around her. "How could this have happened to me?" she would plead, her heart knotted with anger. But no matter how much she cried or ranted or prayed, she knew the painful truth her sight was never going to return. A cloud of depression hung over Susan's once optimistic spirit. Just getting through each day was an exercise in frustration and exhaustion. And all she had to cling to was her husband Mark. Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all of his heart. When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again. Mark's military background had trained him well to deal with sensitive situations, and yet he know this was the most difficult battle he would ever face. Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city. At first, this comforted Susan and fulfilled Mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. Soon, however, Mark realized that this arrangement wasn't working - it was hectic, and costly. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to himself. But just the thought of mentioning it to her made him cringe. She was still so fragile, so angry. How would she react? Just as Mark predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again. "I'm blind!" she responded bitterly. "How am I supposed to know where I'm going? I feel like you're abandoning me." Mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, to determine where she was and how to adapt to her new environment. He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat. He made her laugh, even on those not-so-good days when she would trip exiting the bus, or drop her briefcase. Each morning they made the journey together, and Mark would take a cab back to his office. Although this routine was even more costly and exhausting than the previous one, Mark knew it was only a matter of time before Susan would be able to ride the bus on her own. He believed in her, in the Susan he used to know before she'd lost her sight, who wasn't afraid of any challenge and who would never, ever quit. Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... Each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it! She was going to work all by herself! On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying for her fare to exit the bus, the driver said, "Boy, I sure envy you." Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year? Curious, she asked the driver, "Why do you say that you envy me?" The driver responded, "It must feel so good to be taken care of and protected like you are." Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, and asked again, "What do you mean?" The driver answered, "You know, every morning for the past week, a fine looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you when you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches you until you enter your office building. Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one blessed lady." Tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. For although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt Mark's presence. She was blessed, so blessed, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe - the gift of love that can bring light where there had been darkness. God watches over us in just the same way. We may not know He is present. We may not be able to see His face, but He is there nonetheless! Be blessed in this thought: "God Loves You - even when you are not looking." SUBSCRIBE INFO Want to receive a Christian inspirational item AND great clean humor in an email to you each day of the week? It's easy and FREE! Read all about Laugh & Lift at http://www.laughandlift.com ================================================================== >-->From CupO'Cheer: .-'-. /` |__ ____ /` _.--`-,-` .---. `\ '-|` a '<-. [] /o o \ | \ _\__) \=` | .' /_ C_ ` ,_/ c ( /PACING THE HALLS Our 12-year-old daughter, Kiley, was hospitalized with a life- threatening case of pneumonia that required lung surgery. As I paced the hospital hall alone one day, I thought, Lord, I simply cannot continue to walk these halls day after day week after week. Then I heard the most glorious voice singing the song, "You'll Never Walk Alone" I saw a man strolling along singing so loudly and joyously that the walls seemed to shake. He smiled at me. When he rounded the corner I rushed to get another look. Where is he? I checked both ways down the main hall: He was gone. Five days later we brought our daughter home. I brought some- thing else home from the hospital, too, the assurance that I won't ever face my problems all by myself. At times I had felt I was walking those hospital halls alone, but I now know I never did. as seen in Da Mouse Tracks -<>- (`'`'`'`') | | | | (|-()()-|) | (__) | | | The More The Merry |______| /._/\/\_.\ / , /\ \ ; / \\|| __\ ; .-""-. |-| './ \/|-| .' \ \ | | | / / / |-()() '\___|____/` ; | | ()| |--LI--| | `"` | | | | | | | | | | | ; (_} ; | | | '., __.' | | | / /| | | | | jgs / / | | |__|___| (__) (__) .----'=||='----. `""""`" "`""""` >MAKING PRAYER ESSENTIAL IN YOUR CHURCH When I was about 10 years old, my father, who was in the navy at the time, took me to the docks to do some fishing. A large ship was tied up there. The weather that day was particularly calm, and the ship floated on slack ropes. My father surprised me by walking over, putting his feet on the edge of the dock, his hands on the side of the ship, and pushing. He pushed steadily for a long time. I thought he was crazy - he was trying to move a ship! But to my amazement, the ship began to move! I thought my dad was Superman in disguise! He squatted down and said, "I don't know how it works, but somehow my energy is stored up in that ship until there is enough to move it. If I had quit before there was enough energy to move it, even seconds too early, it wouldn't have moved, and all my pushing would have been wasted. And guess what? If you had helped me, it would have moved twice as fast." As you seek to make prayer essential in your church, you will be like my dad pushing that ship. The more people you persuade to push with you, the sooner it will move. Don't give up before the results start to come. You never know when they're just about to happen. Keep praying. Get others to pray with you. You'll be amazed at how God moves. --Dee Duke is the senior pastor at Jefferrson Baptist Church in Jefferson, Oregon. Since 1989 when prayer became the focal point of the church's ministry, Jefferson Baptist has grown from 200 to 1,300 worshipers — in a rural community of 1,700 people! (The Timothy Report, www.timothyreport.com) --- ...Matt.18 [20] For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. Prayer meetings are great! There is much POWER in Group Prayer! -<>- _ .'`_:--"""'. .-. .' ,' .---' \_ / \.-'/ / .' .-/`0\ \ /._| | | / 0\ | From UP Above '-' | | \ \ |_/_, \_| '. \__/___.' \ _:-'`\.-' '. / / , `;-.\__.-;___/| / | \_.-' / | ; / , | | |/`| | ; ,__/ | / '.__ _ \____/----. jgs .-' /`` `-.__/ `.___/ >INVISIBLE GRACE. There are stars in the skies, Hidden from curious eyes But we know they are there, In the heavens somewhere. If vast space we could traverse Through the galaxies universe We'd see worlds unseen before, Never from an earthbound door. Somewhere in millions of stars Though no one knows how far Is God's Heaven we cannot see But our eternal home it will be. At times we hear whispers clear, We feel God's presence near, In prayer we know He is there But we cannot see him anywhere. God's grace from Heaven on high May never be seen with an eye But we know His love showers us For He has given his son Jesus. There is a grand gift God has lent That blesses with divine consent, With love from the Promised-Land, God has sent winged angel bands. There are many angels we know, Truths from the Bible tell us so, As sentries ever tending the fold They nurse the flock as foretold. The messengers of God are there Watching over us with loving care, They dwell among us day and night Reflecting the force of God's might. We can't see everything we believe Or trust all our minds can conceive, But we know angels are everywhere Because God has said they're there. The winged ones are alive and well, Guarding between Heaven and Hell, The angels love for us is unbounded, From our hearts that love resounded. Kenneth J. Ellison 12-23-07 As seen at Lindas Place in Cyberspace --- ...Check this teaching... Are Angels Real? http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/BibleStudy/angelsreal.html -<>- ,--""""-., .'` ', / | | _ / __,'(,-'/ `\ _. / .=="=| '-. | .'===,=|-. | / /===\==\| \ \ _;' | |====\==\ '.___,u' \__/ |===.##,=\ |==/####\='-.__ \#|#####|`/^|_))._________________ #######/`| |_.-'""""""=' ] #####/\/ /__,________;------.---' jgs `###' |_/ V V >JESUS HELP ME AND TO GOD be the Glory While searching on a website devoted to Johann Sebastian Bach, I found something interesting. It seems that Bach often wrote the letters "JJ" at the beginning of his scores and the letters "SDG" at the end. What did these letters mean? JJ stood for the Latin Jesu Juva, which means "Help o Jesus". So, it seems that at the beginning of creating his music, Bach was requesting Divine help. SDG stood for the Latin Soli Deo Gloria, which means, "To God alone glory". It seems that at the end of creating his music, Bach gave thanks to God. Bach was an extremely gifted composer. Still, despite his talents, he had the habit of asking for Jesus' help as he began his work and then giving thanks to God when he was finished. This plants within me the desire to be more intentional about including God in my day. I would think that it would be easy for a person of Bach's giftedness to take God's role in their life for granted – to begin to rely on self and to take some time to pat oneself on the back for a job well done! If a person of Bach's talent and giftedness made it a habit to ask for God's help and to give God thanks, how much more should we do the same? In the end, it is to our benefit to be reminded that we are all dependent upon the Lord for everything. We really do need His help! We also benefit from giving thanks to God. It gives us needed perspective to understand that all we accomplish is from God's gracious hand. -author unknown as seen in firstIMPRESSIONS --- ...My Two Cents... Prov.21: [30] There is no wisdom nor understanding nor counsel against the LORD. It takes God to have wisdom, understanding and/or true counsel. -<>- ____ .-'& '-. / \ : o o ; ( (_ ) : ; \ __ / `-._____.-' /`"""`\ / , \ /|/\/\/\ _\ (_|/\/\/\\__) |_______| __)_ |_ (__ jgs (_____|_____) >LONELINESS His loneliness could be felt from a block away. Something about the way he walked showed this was not a good day. His very stance was that of one who felt alone. One who knew he must, but still dreaded going home. There was no one there to make his day worthwhile, No pet to meet him at the door, nor was there a wife or child. Little did he know things were about to be changed. God had seen his sorrow and his life would soon be rearranged! Changes orchestrated by the Father above... on that very day awaiting him was a letter from his very first love! Virginia Archer 01-11 -<>- ,--.,-"";-"-. .-;-/ / / .- `\ .-. ` ( ' ' ` ; `\/ \ \ / \ / (. C . ) | .-. | | _ / (` / | \ /}| | )(\ | `-> (____.| / ||| / \=====| | |\| | |====| \ _/ ` \__/=====| |` `-'======| \ |=======/ | |=======| | .--, ########\ |/ / jgs |_|__|| ` `--. ,---;-'--'\ `--. `---`-------'-.___,___.---' >LITTLE LOST BOY I know the feeling. There's an emptiness, a hollowed out darkness inside of you. You look around and nothing or no one looks familiar. The sounds are deeper, bolder than ever before. The lights glare in your eyes every time you lift your head to look around. Most of the time your head is down in despair because you cannot believe it...you're lost! You might think because of the title of this story I was indeed talking about a child. The truth is I have felt that way as an adult. I was reminded of that on Saturday when Marianne and I were in a local Barnes and Noble bookstore. We often wander around separately, she heads off to check on things of interest to her and I? I just wander. It comes very easily to me now. I wander because I want to watch and meet people. I often times can't go ten minutes without having a conversation with someone. I try not to intrude, so I start off by complimenting them. "I love that tie!" or "Your child is beautiful!" I don't just make it up, I mean it. It was while wandering that I saw him. The store was packed with parents and children because, believe it or not, Santa was there. I should have known something was up when we were greeted by five or six young ladies wearing reindeer and elf hats. Most times you can browse through a book store in relative peace and quiet. Not this time. Children darted in and out of the aisles, parents lagged behind trying to keep after them. For whatever reason my eye caught a young boy, who didn't seem as enthused as the others. I heard one woman say, "Is he okay?" She didn't stop to find out. I did. I carefully followed him in and around the children's section. I sadly say carefully, because in times like this, a perfect stranger, let alone a man, following a child, could easily be misconstrued as evil in the making. I tried to get the attention of one of the "elves" passing by but she was too caught up in the image on a poster of the star from the latest vampire movie. "Oh, my God, he's gorgeous!" she shouted and then darted away. Finally I saw the young boy move frantically across the store. He stopped and turned toward me. He was rubbing his eyes, now red from tears and the thought of never finding his parent. I decided I had to help in spite of the fact that I was indeed a stranger. "Young man, are you lost?" I asked. Still rubbing his eyes he sniffled, looked up at me and said in a muffled whisper, "yes." I pointed out that we were right near the kiosk in the center of the store. "Look, why don't you go over there..." I started to say when suddenly I heard, "Paul!" "Paul!" A man rushed through the crowd and the young boy ran to him burying his face in the man's chest. I smiled with great satisfaction and heard a woman nearby say to me, "That was kind of you to help him." I felt relieved and oddly validated as being one of the good guys in this world. Here is what I loved the most. I have seen parents and children reunited in similar situations. Most parents scream and yell at the child for having wandered off. This man held and comforted his son. Chills rushed over my body. My eyes filled with tears as I walked away. But it wasn't over. Later I found the same man down on his knees holding his son, Paul. He repeated this again and again..."Son, I would never leave you. Never, ever, ever, ever leave you." I am shaking even as I write this now not just because of how wonderful that was, but I swear to you, I heard it as if God was speaking to me. Father to son... "Son, I will never leave you. Never, ever, ever, ever leave you!" This "Little boy lost" was found again at 59 wandering a bookstore. "Listen. He speaks to you, not in a big resounding voice. Sometimes He speaks through the whimper of a child." "I wish you enough!" -Bob Perks To SUBSCRIBE: Send an e-mail with SUBSCRIBE CUP O'CHEER in the subject line to cheer316@sc.rr.com. ============================================================== >-->From Archives InspiredBuffalo: ___ _/`.-'`. _ _/` . _.' ..:::::.(_) /` _.'_./ .oooooooooo\ \o/.-'__.'o. .ooooooooo`._\_|_.'`oooooob. .ooooooooooooooooooooo&&oooooob. .oooooooooooooooooooo&@@@@@@oooob. .ooooooooooooooooooooooo&&@@@@@ooob. doooooooooooooooooooooooooo&@@@@ooob doooooooooooooooooooooooooo&@@@oooob dooooooooooooooooooooooooo&@@@ooooob dooooooooooooooooooooooooo&@@oooooob `dooooooooooooooooooooooooo&@ooooob' `doooooooooooooooooooooooooooooob' `doooooooooooooooooooooooooooob' `doooooooooooooooooooooooooob' `doooooooooooooooooooooooob' `doooooooooooooooooooooob' jgs `dooooooooobodoooooooob' `doooooooob dooooooob' `"""""""' `""""""' >A Girl with an Apple August 1942. Piotrkow, Poland. The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women and children of Piotrkow's Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square. Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had ran rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated. 'Whatever you do,' Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me, 'don't tell them your age. Say you're sixteen'. I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker. An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. He looked me up and down, then asked my age. 'Sixteen,' I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood. My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children, sick and elderly people. I whispered to Isidore, 'Why?' He didn't answer. I ran to Mama's side and said I wanted to stay with her. 'No,' she said sternly. 'Get away. Don't be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.' She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood: She was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once, she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her. My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany. We arrived at the Buchenwald concentration camp one night weeks later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued uniforms and identification numbers. 'Don't call me Herman anymore.' I said to my brothers. 'Call me 94983.' I was put to work in the camp's crematorium, loading the dead into a hand-cranked elevator. I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number. Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald's sub-camps near Berlin. One morning I thought I heard my mother's voice Son, she said softly but clearly, I am sending you an angel. Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream. But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work. And hunger. And fear. A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a young girl with light, almost luminous curls. She was half- hidden behind a birch tree. I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German. 'Do you have something to eat?' She didn't understand. I inched closer to the fence and repeated question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life. She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, 'I'll see you tomorrow.' I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat - a hunk of bread or, better yet, an apple. We didn't dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death for us both. I didn't know anything about her just a kind farm girl except that she understood Polish. What was her name? Why was she risking her life for me? Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples. Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia.. 'Don't return,' I told the girl that day. 'We're leaving.' I turned toward the barracks and didn't look back, didn't even say good-bye to the girl whose name I'd never learned, the girl with the apples. We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed. On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00 AM. In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death seemed ready to claim me, but somehow I'd survived. Now, it was over. I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited. At 8 A.M. there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers. Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. Everyone was running, so I did too. Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I'm not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival. In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person's goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none. My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come. Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America, where my brother Sam had already moved. I served in the U. S. Army during the Korean War, and returned to New York City after two years. By August 1957 I'd opened my own electronics repair shop. I was starting to settle in. One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me. 'I've got a date. She's got a Polish friend. Let's double date.' A blind date? Nah, that wasn't for me. But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma. I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn't so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life. The four of us drove out to Coney Island. Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too! We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn't remember having a better time. We piled back into Sid's car, Roma and I sharing the backseat. As European Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, 'Where were you,' she asked softly, 'during the war?' 'The camps,' I said, the terrible memories still vivid, the irreparable loss. I had tried to forget. But you can never forget. She nodded. 'My family was hiding on a farm in Germany, not far from Berlin,' she told me. 'My father knew a priest, and he got us Aryan papers.' I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. And yet here we were, both survivors, in a new world. 'There was a camp next to the farm.' Roma continued. 'I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples every day.' What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy. 'What did he look like? I asked. He was tall, Skinny, and Hungry. I must have seen him every day for six months.' My heart was racing. I couldn't believe it. This couldn't be. 'Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?' Roma looked at me in amazement. 'Yes,' That was me! ' I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions. I couldn't believe it My angel. 'I'm not letting you go.' I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn't want to wait. 'You're crazy!' she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week. There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I'd found her again, I could never let her go. That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren I have never let her go. Herman Rosenblat Miami Beach, Florida This is a true story and you can find out more by Googling Herman Rosenblat as he was bar mitzvahed at age 75. This story is being made into a movie called The Fence. -<>- >Links for Your Enjoyment Dentyne http://www.buffalosjokes.com/21728.htm Dogs http://www.buffalosjokes.com/21729.htm Cookie Blues http://www.buffalosjokes.com/21727.htm Pension http://www.buffalosjokes.com/21315.htm Pringles Dogs http://www.buffalosjokes.com/21317.htm Head On http://www.buffalosjokes.com/60530.htm Our Valuable Anchor http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/BibleStudy/ouranchor.html The Giver And The Gift http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/BibleStudy/givergift.html Attitude Is Everything http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/attitude.html Moon Photography Art http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/moonart.html Just Have Faith http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/faith.html Identity Theft http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/identitytheft.html Leopard Vs Crocodile http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/leopard.html Life's Little Oops 4 http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/whoops4.html Visit our site at http://www.inspiredbuffalo.com If you are looking to join any of our other fine e-zines visit www.buffalosjokes.com =============================================================== >-->From SermondFodder: _______________________________________________ | | |\ | | || | |,""---:___ | ||== | .-.| | ||== | '-'-----. |_______________________________________________|| |~ | -(| |_____________________________/< _...==...____| | | ___ | \\ .-. .-. // \| \//.-. .-.\\ --------"-"/.-.\_] `( o )( o )' ' ( o )( o )`"""""""""==`( o ) jgs '-' '-' '-' '-' '-' >The Marriage Vow As a sound technician at Friendship Church in Prior Lake, MN, we used a variet of wireless microphones to help make our worship services more meaningful. We were also called on to do weddings and other special events. During one wedding the pastor, the bride, and the groom each had one of the small microphones with a wire leading down to a transmitter concealed beneath their clothing. Due to the number of mics required for the grand event, we had put some of our older mics in our collection to use. The older mics were sometimes susceptible to interference and would occasionally pick up transmissions from nearby police cars and the CB radios used by truckers. At a critical point in the wedding vows, the pastor asked the groom that all important question, "Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" As if on cue a passing truck driver could be heard loud enough for everyone in the sanctuary to hear, "10-4 Good buddy." Everyone had a good laugh, and the wedding continued without any additional help from CB radio traffic. === From Don Chase, Shakopee, MN === This post is brought your way by Sermon Fodder and Joke A Day Ministries. To subscribe go to http://www.sermonfodder.com or drop an email note to Sermon_Fodder-subscribe@yahoogroups.com. Please leave this attached if you forward this to friends. ======================================== Worth Repeating..... There is nothing so healing in all the world as real presence. Our real presence can feed the ache for God in others. --McRina Wiederkehr >From www.heartlight.org ======================================== + | /o\ |~| , | | , /\/ _ \/\ .-.-.-|| (_) ||-.-.-. | # # || _ || # # | jgs _| || ||| || |_ """""""""===""""""""" === >The Same Sermon A new pastor just out of seminary gave is first sermon to his new congregation. It was a great sermon on how we as Christians should be called to specifically have compassion on and provide help to the homeless. After the sermon members of the congregation commented on how they were moved by the message. The next week the pastor gave exactly the same sermon on helping the homeless. The elders thought that since the new Pastor was still finishing up his classes at seminary he might not have had time to prepare another sermon. When the pastor gave the same sermon on his third Sunday in the pulpit, the elders called an emergency board meeting. They asked the fledgling pastor if he had any other sermons. The pastor said, "Yes, I have a whole file of sermons on a variety of subjects. However, I'm waiting on the congregation to take this sermon to heart and start doing something for the homeless before I move on to another subject." www.my-pastor.com ==================================================================== __ / _ _ _ _ _ _ _\_ _ _ _| |_|_|_|_|_|_|_|\|_|_|_| |-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-\-|-|-| |_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|\|_|_| |-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-\-|-| |_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|\|_| |-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-| |_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|\ \ \ \ | ____ ____ ____\___ ____ _/ / |____| |____| jgs \__/ \__/ >One Little Envelope Story Editor: by Lisa Joyce Schowalter Colorado, USA My sophomore year in college was particularly difficult, and not only because of the classes. Most of the friends I'd made in previous year weren't around, and the living situation with my roommates was tense and uncomfortable. I was having health problems complicated by a sleeping disorder and depression, and, as I'd chosen to attend college in another state, I had no family around. Compounding all this was a distinct lack of funds. Almost all college students are strapped for cash, but after paying for tuition and books and a couple of unavoidable emergency expenses, I was completely broke. My parents were in the middle of a bankruptcy, so they were truly unable to help. A full course load and no cell phone meant I couldn't find a job, even on campus, and I couldn't get another loan to help offset living expenses. I found I had to cut back on a lot of things, including food. After a month, money was so tight I was unable to even buy groceries. I didn't have a meal plan on campus, so I only ate once, maybe twice a day, relying on cheap things like Ramen noodles and eggs, and the occasional fruit the neighbors let me pick from their trees. It wasn't a healthy diet by any means, and it took a toll on my body and mind. My energy levels flagged, and I struggled with classes. Combined with insomnia, anxiety and depression, I lost about 20 pounds in less than two months and the health center nurse diagnosed me with malnutrition. I needed help, but didn't know where else to turn. I grew up middle class, not wealthy by any means, but rarely lacking for the necessities, so this was a tough experience. It's amazing how we take such basics as food for granted, until they're suddenly out of reach. One day when I got back from class, I found an envelope sitting on my front porch with my name on it. It contained grocery store gift certificates -- $300 worth! No name, no note, and nobody I asked knew where this had come from. No one would admit to it either, so I didn't know whom to thank. It was an exceedingly generous gift, exactly what I needed most, which eased a lot of my stress, and was probably the only thing that saved me from a nervous breakdown that semester. It contained enough extra to see me through three semesters of college. It also allowed me to save enough money to get myself in a better financial situation. That one little envelope had a huge impact for me. Someone reached out a helping hand for me when I needed it the most. Since I can't repay my anonymous angel, I've used their inspiration to pay it forward whenever I see someone else's need that I can meet. =======HeroicStories======= _______ / /_ / -/- / / / / / / /_______/ / jgs ((______| / `"""""""` >-->WHO SHOULD READ THE BIBLE? The Young - To learn how to live. The Old - To know how to die. The Ignorant - For wisdom. The Learned - For humility. The Rich - For compassion. The Poor - For comfort. The Dreamer - For enchantment. The Practical - For counsel. The Weak - For strength. The Strong - For direction. The Haughty - For warning. The Humble - For exaltation. The Troubled - For peace. The Weary - For rest. The Doubting - For assurance. The Sinner - For salvation. The Christian - For guidance. -- Author Unknown >Updated FUN STUFF URLS - Oh Yeah :) Shangy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------- http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/urls.html FUN URLS ------------------------------------------------------------------------- -->BECOMING A CHRISTIAN HOW TO BE A CHRISTIAN! ------------------------------------------------------------------------- -->FULL LENGTH - FREE On line AUDIO MP3 CChristian Foundational Class http://www.truthortradition.com/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=61 NEW LIFE IN CHRIST! ------------------------------------------------------------------------- -->This is for all you who love food and DARE to make it at home Yep. You guessed it - Recipes. These are Tried and True, Yummy to the Tummy, good old fashioned home cooking recipes that are EASY to do :) Visit Shangy's Easy-Does-It Home Recipes: http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/easy.html Home Recipes >Got A good Recipe? 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