I Do That for You ... :) 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: For Facebook Users: Please Friend Me / Like Me here... http://tinyurl.com/cma6all AND Please Share This email with All Your Friends And Family! ^~^ May God SUPER BLESS You As You Do! THANK YOU! :) ================ .---._ _.-'"""'-._ _.---. :.---._`.: .- -. ;.'_.---.; : ' `.': .`.' ` ; `....-':'::. 0 0 .' :;`-....' :.:'_:---:_`::; .--._ `:_( )_:' _.--. .----. ``-.' \ / `.-'' .----. : : .---'': `-.-' :--''''-. : : ___: :____.--''`. : .'``--._____: :_____ : :_.'| ' | `''"'|"'' | ` `._; : ____`-'____|_______|_______|_______|_______|___`-'______ | | | | | | | ______|_______|_______|_______|_______|_______|_______|___ | | | | | | | _|_______|_______|_______|_______|_______|_______|________ jgs | | | | | | | ____|_______|_______|_______|_______|_______|_______|_____ >-->In The 'Shangy' News :) Still plugging away on the editing of the pages making them accessible to those with cell phones, ipads, and other high end devices. My motto as always: "Hey, I'm working on it!" Eventually I'll get it done. :) =========================================================== >-->From Heartwarmers: /`"'-,__ \/\)` `'-. // \ .--.\ '. //|-. \_o `-. \---._ || \_o\ _.-.\`'-' `-. || |\.-'` | `. || | \ \ | `\ \| / \ ,\' / \ `' `---' ; `)) .-' | .-.// .-. .' ,;=D / // / \ .' || |..-' | '-' // (( \ .===. _,// '`'--`'---''',--\_/-;-'` jgs `~/^\` '===' >A FATHER'S LENS by Karen C. Driscoll I was eleven years old before my father finally acknowledged my constant requests and allowed me to use his prized Canon AE-1 camera. I will never forget that first thrill of a real camera in my hands. Hardly believing my luck, I snapped away, sneaking up stealthily on my subject matter, the elusive white-tailed deer. I promptly shot two entirerolls of deer-in-the-underbrush. When 72 exposures of non-descript grass and shrubs came back seemingly devoid of subject matter, I was, to say the least, disappointed. My father was annoyed. I'd wasted vacation film -- a cardinal sin. I pointed out the microscopic specks in the photos defensively, "See dad, they're deer, just look!" He seemed less than impressed. It was a while before he let me use his camera again. My next quarry was a hummingbird. One summer afternoon, it whirred into our backyard for a fraction of a second and hovered near a clump of scarlet flowers. I was so sure that my father would want photographic documentation of this miraculous event that I "borrowed" his camera without actually asking permission. I waited and waited for the bird to return, but to no avail. I waited so long, in fact, that I totally forgot my quest and went back inside. I left the camera outside. Overnight. And, as luck would have it, it rained! When I realized what I'd done, I was mortified, and certain I would be grounded until I was at least twenty. I knew I'd totally blown it. Fortunately, the camera was not permanently damaged, but I knew it would be a really long time until I had Dad's camera in my hands again. In fact, it didn't happen again until I was sixteen when I had won a trip to England in an essay/interview contest. I couldn't believe that I was actually going to Europe. What I couldn't believe even more was that Dad asked me if I'd like to take his camera with me. This being the trip-of-a-lifetime, he thought I might want to get some good pictures of it. I was fairly dumbstruck. "You really mean it?" I asked in awe hardly daring to believe he did. Looking back, I think the camera was his own kind of Dad safety charm. It was an extension of him, a symbolic form of protection to ensure that I came home in one piece. At sixteen, I didn't know what it meant to be a parent. I didn't know how difficult it is to worry, to set misgivings aside, to smile, and then to let go. I was young enough to actually believe that it was harder for him to let me take his camera on my trip, than it was for him to let me travel abroad by myself. The day I graduated from high school Dad pulled me into the kitchen. "Karen," he said, "your graduation present is on the table in the hall." He looked excited. "I hope you like it." The only thing on the table was his camera. He walked into the hall and stood behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders. "I'd like for you to have my camera," he said by way of explanation. For once in my teenage life, I was totally at a loss for words. "I was going to buy you a new one, a better one, but I knew how much you liked mine, and I thought this one would mean more to you. I thought a new one might not be the same." And he was right, because he had given me more than a just a camera -- even more than a cherished belonging of his own. He had just given me the evidence of his trust, his benediction. He had given me a modern-day rite of passage. No gift, no matter how new or how expensive, would have meant more. That was half my lifetime ago. Since that day, Dad's camera has been with me on tops of mountains and volcanoes, in alpine meadows, at sunrises and sunsets. It's been to family reunions, graduations, weddings, holiday gatherings, and delivery rooms. It's seen my first car, and my first boyfriend who later became my first (and only) husband. It saw my first bad perm, and my first gray hair. It saw our first new home and our first out-of-state move. It saw my first, second and third-born children on their first day of life. Now it regularly records their firsts. With so much new camera technology lately, sometimes I'm fleetingly tempted to buy something flashier to replace Dad's Canon. But, whenever I see the well-worn black leather case I think of my father and his gift. I think of him when I press down the shutter button, and hear the familiar click as the film advances on my life. I think of my father's benediction and how it has become part of his legacy -- a father's lens on a daughter's life. And then I know one thing. Something my father himself taught me. Newer might possibly be better, but it could never be the same. - Karen Driscoll ___________________________________________ Karen lives in Connecticut with her husband and four great kids. She can be reached by clicking here: mailto:kmhbrdriscoll@hotmail.com ========================================================== >-->From Our Firend LouiseA :) _. ,-.,-"`""-./ \ / \ `-.| .:::.:::. \ / `-._ ::::::::: | "=\ ':::::' | .==" |o_|_ ':' | _o. ` (_) ,;;;,;;;, ; \\ ;;;;;;;;; \ _. /|-. ';;;;;' \ ` `'---'/ \ ';' \ .--._ /-' | ,-`. / `-._( / `-._`-._\ `\ '\ ( ` `'._ _, | \ / ~-. `| | | / `;-.| | | .' \ /| | / .'-. '. | \ | .' `-._ '. | /"` `\ jgs / `"--.,_'-._\-.___.'_ ; / `""";--' `. | / .'` \ /""-. ; / \""-, \ | / | \ | \ | '. |/ '. \ .'`-. / '._ '.,___,.;' '-.___.' `"""----------'` >"I Do That for You" (By Adele Gribble) I had taken a day off from work to get things done around home and to run much needed errands. One of the errands was to vacuum my minivan that had started to look like a very dirty playroom with McDonald's wrappers and other stuff. I stopped at the local car wash and noticed that the water was being drained into a big tanker so the car wash was not in operation but I was still able to vacuum. Only while throwing out all the trash from the floor did I realize that the place was pretty deserted and here I was, a woman alone, with all her doors open, the keys in the ignition and the radio blaring with Christian music. An uneasy feeling came over me when I saw a rather large man making his way over to my van. I quickly prayed, "God please protect me." "I do that for you." the man said. He was about 6'5" and about 270 pounds. His speech was slurred. He wanted to clean my car for me and I was scared. "No, thanks but I can do it." I replied. "No, I do it, you're a woman, I'm a man. I will do it." "God, please protect me, I'm scared and I don't know what this man wants." Right after I prayed, the man started walking to the back of my minivan. He paused and then said to me, "Are you a Christian?" "Yes." I replied. His face lit up like a birthday cake! "Me too!" He then proceeded to show me a hole under his rib cage. A bullet wound. He said that he had been on his way to Hell when he felt Jesus pulling him back. From what I could make out (because I finally figured out that he was brain- damaged), he was not walking with God before his fight. He was hit in the head and shot. He said he saw Jesus and He grabbed his hand and [Jesus] pulled him back. He was so glad that he was given a second chance to live for Christ. What a testimony. This man was brain-damaged and yet he was filled with tremendous joy because he could live his life for Christ! I was so relieved that God had given me a sign that everything was okay. The man worked side-by-side with me for about 10 minutes and left as quickly as he came. I learned to not judge people by their appearance. (1 Samuel 16:7 NKJV) "But the LORD said to Samuel, 'Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.'" --- ...Awww, such a heartwarmer and good lesson! Thanks LouiseA! ========================================================= >-->From Archives InspiredBuffalo: .---. /_____\ ( '.' ) \_-_/_ .-"`'V'//-. / , |// , \ / /|Ll //Ll|\ \ / / |__// | \_\ \ \/---|[]==| / / \/\__/ | \/\/ |/_ | Ll_\| |`^"""^`| | | | | | | | | | | | | L___l___J |_ | _| jgs (___|___) ^^^ ^^^ >Appointment With Love By Sulamith Ish-Kishor Six minutes to six, said the great round clock over the information booth in Grand Central Station. The tall young Army lieutenant who had just come from the direction of the tracks lifted his sunburned face, and his eyes narrowed to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that shocked him because he could not control it. In six minutes, he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 13 months, the woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and sustained him unfailingly. He placed himself as close as he could to the information booth, just beyond the ring of people besieging the clerks... Lieutenant Blandford remembered one night in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of Zeros. He had seen the grinning face of one of the enemy pilots. In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course you fear...all brave men do. Didn't King David know fear? That's why he wrote the 23rd Psalm. Next time you doubt yourself, I want you to hear my voice reciting to you: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.'" And he had remembered; he had heard her imagined voice, and it had renewed his strength and skill. Now he was going to hear her real voice. Four minutes to six. His face grew sharp. Under the immense, starred roof, people were walking fast, like threads of color being woven into a gray web. A girl passed close to him, and Lieutenant Blandford started. She was wearing a red flower in her suit lapel, but it was a crimson sweet pea, not the little red rose they had agreed upon. Besides, this girl was too young, about 18, whereas Hollis Meynell had frankly told him she was 30. "Well, what of it?" he had answered. "I'm 32." He was 29. His mind went back to that book - the book the Lord Himself must have put into his hands out of the hundreds of Army library books sent to the Florida training camp. Of Human Bondage, it was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's writing. He had always hated that writing- in-habit, but these remarks were different. He had never believed that a woman could see into a man's heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on the bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had got hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written, she had answered. Next day he had been shipped out, but they had gone on writing. For 13 months, she had faithfully replied, and more than replied. When his letters did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him. But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. That seemed rather bad, of course. But she had explained: "If your feeling for me has any reality, any honest basis, what I look like won't matter. Suppose I'm beautiful. I'd always be haunted by the feeling that you had been taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plain (and you must admit that this is more likely). Then I'd always fear that you were going on writing to me only because you were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New York, you shall see me and then you shall make your decision. Remember, both of us are free to stop or to go on after that - whichever we choose..." One minute to six - Lieutenant Blandford's heart leaped higher than his plane had ever done. A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In her pale green suit, she was like springtime come alive. He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was wearing no rose, and as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, soldier?" she murmured. Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Meynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump; her thick-ankled feet were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose in the rumpled lapel of her brown coat. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. Blandford felt as though he were being split in two, so keen was his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld his own; and there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible; he could see that now. Her gray eyes had a warm, kindly twinkle. Lieutenant Blandford did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the small worn, blue leather copy of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even rarer than love - a friendship for which he had been and must ever be grateful. He squared his broad shoulders, saluted and held the book out toward the woman, although even while he spoke he felt shocked by the bitterness of his disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blandford, and you - you are Miss Meynell. I'm so glad you could meet me. May...may I take you to dinner?" The woman's face broadened in a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is all about, son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit - the one who just went by - begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you that she's waiting for you in that big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of a test. I've got two boys with Uncle Sam myself, so I didn't mind to oblige you." -<>- _______ / /_ / -/- / / / / / / /_______/ / jgs ((______| / `"""""""` >Art Work by God By Bev Kerr The Bible says that Love is patient and kind, And that's what I hope is in this heart of mine. It's not boastful and proud, haughty nor rude. But, I know that I owe this all to You. I want to stand back, for You deserve all the credit ... It's not me who writes the poems, it is you who has said it. You give me strength and courage when I ask for some. You give me hope when sometimes there is none. I'll always remember that You in your Love, Gave me a gift ... Your Son from above. He went to the cross and suffered the cause. And freed us from sin and gave us His all. He wasn't boastful nor proud, He loved the gathering crowd. He gave sight to the blind, made the lame to leap, And some dead, He called back saying, "The're just asleep." He was beaten and scorned, and died on a cross. He calmed the angry seas, and on water He walked. And to think ... He did this all for me. And in doing so changed my destiny. This Son of God ... an earthly carpenter's Son. He gave me sight to see the truth in all He had done. So, here I stand a slow but sure work of art from God. Still being reshaped by my Father above. I'm putty, I know, in the carpenter's hand. With Love in my heart, and these two hands. For it's my life to give ... and I give it to You. Shape me and mold me, however You choose. -<>- _.-/`) // / / ) .=// / / / ) //`/ / / / / // / ` / || / \\ / )) .' jgs // / / >AT THE BEAUTIFUL GATE "Christ never asks of us such busy labour As leaves no time for resting at his feet; The waiting attitude of expectation. He ofttimes counts a service most complete. "He sometimes wants our ear--our rapt attention, That he some sweetest secret may impart; `tis always in the time of deepest silence That heart finds deepest fellowship with heart. "We sometimes wonder why our Lord doth place us Within a sphere so narrow, so obscure, That nothing we call work can find an entrance There's only room to suffer--to endure! "Well, God loves patience! Souls that dwell in stillness, Doing the little things, or resting quite, May just as perfectly fulfill their mission, Be just as useful in the Father's sight, "As they who grapple with some giant evil, Clearing a path that every eye may see! Our Saviour cares for cheerful acquiescence Rather than for a busy ministry. "And yet he does love service, where `tis given By grateful love that clothes itself in deed; But work that's done beneath the scourge of duty, Be sure to such he gives but little heed. "Then seek to please him, whatsoe'er he bids thee! Whether to do--to suffer--to lie still! `Twill matter little by what path he led us, If in it all we sought to do his will." -<>- >Links for Your Enjoyment: Wisdom For Life! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/wisdomforlife.html No Words Necessary! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/nowords2.html Dogs As Best Friends! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/bestfriend.html Best Of Nat Geo 2012! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/natgeo2012.html Akiane Child Prodigy! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/prodigy.html Extraordinary Photos! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/extraordinary.html Journey Through Life! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/journey.html Attitude Is Everything 5! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/attitude5.html Creation VS Coincidence! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/creationvscoincidence.html -<>- >From Our Friend LouiseA :) Shadow dancing is one of those art forms that really must be done well for the us to enjoy it. It has to be creative. It has to be skillful and it has to keep us caught in the imagination of it all. This troupe does all that and more in an incredible performance. http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=STK7AZ_Zs_E First of all: They're NOT holograms, they're Pepper's Ghosts. But that doesn't make them any less impressive. In fact, the technological magic behind the amazing illusions in Disney's Haunted Mansion is even more impressive than the ride itself! http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=fAryLSRcub0 When you see this kid's high school talent show routine, you'll understand why this video got 2 million views in just one day. You'll believe that it's really Michael Jackson disguised as a teenager. Check out that moon walk! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZTCtpZyulM&feature=player_embedded Get ready to be stunned by pure talent. Carson Peters is a fiddle player taking the country music world by storm - and he's only 10 years old. You have to watch him play Bill Monroe's classic "Blue Moon of Kentucky" with Ricky Skaggs at the Grand Ole Opry. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hkngjEgHgk&feature=player_embedded --- ...Great ones! Thanks LouiseA! -<>- >From Our Friend Melody :) Be Considerate When Practicing High-lob Shots http://www.youtube.com/embed/XRIzE_xMqMI --- ...LOL! Thanks Melody! Visit Melissa's Online Store You can get anything you want (except for Melissa ) at the online store http://pdhomes.net/mall/babylissa/mySTORES/ISELL4.html ========================================================== >-->From Our Friends PatDeE and Geniann :) I think that sometimes we might speak for God when it heals. -Pat ,,,,, ////""\ . (((/ m m -|- __ )))c = ) | (__) ////-./~` . [] (((( `.`\ :: [] )))`\ \)).-;.' .------, [] (() `._.-'` _( )[] )/ `. | .'`^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^))\`.----'`[] jgs ( \' { ~ - ~~ _ ~ - ~~ - ~ - (( | | [] .-.--\ \ { )) | | [] |_;_._`\ |{ ((__|_|-----[] | ; ``` ;{ )) [] | /``-.____/ `~~~[]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'-' [] `' (__) (__) >A LETTER FROM THE POST OFFICE....... MUST READ . . . NOT WHAT YOU'LL BE EXPECTING We don't know who replied, but there is a beautiful soul working in the dead letter office who understands LOVE . . . Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought that we could, so she dictated these words: Dear God: Will you please take care of my dog? Abbey died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I 'm happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. Love, Meredith We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey & Meredith, addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had. Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note: Dear Meredith: Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away. Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I'm sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by. Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love. Love, God ---- ...Awww, such a nice thing! Thanks Pat And Geniann! ========================================================= _____ .'.---.'. // , \\ || `| || || | || || -'- || .-"`'-.,_ _,.-'`"-. / .'--,___`"""`___,--'. \ | /:////_'---'_\\\\:\ | \|:|// `_ _` \\|:|/ '-/| (6/ \6) |\-' \\ | | // `| (._.) |` | _ _ | jgs \ '---' / '--.___.--' >House Fire! Story Editor: by Bruce McCormick Joyce Schowalter Mississippi, USA My wife, three young daughters and I were starting dinner at 7:00 p.m. on Oct. 21, 2001, when I smelled a hint of smoke. As my wife's candles had caused this before, I wasn't alarmed, but started looking around. Coming back from the kitchen the smell was stronger. Suddenly my wife and I both noticed a thin haze near the ceiling of the family room where we were eating. Against everything I've been taught, I opened the laundry room door. Two feet of black smoke rolled from the ceiling with a roaring fire several feet away. (The fire could easily have been embedded in the smoke, I was fortunate.) Our small kitchen fire extinguishers were worthless against the blaze; with a larger extinguisher we could have stopped it. I called 911 and cleared everyone out of the house. Adrenaline flows and you feel like you're not watching reality. You smell smoke. You hear the loud popping of things breaking inside as the fire grows. You watch firemen climb onto the roof and cut holes with chainsaws. As fire leaps from new holes it created in your roof, a sick feeling grows in the pit of your stomach. What should have been controllable is destroying your home. In the midst of this surrealistic horror something incredible happened. I have no explanation for what happened, as I'm reclusive, not someone who associates easily with others. People from the neighborhood started showing up with clothing. One family took our daughters in. Another took in our two big Labrador dogs. People we'd never seen brought us coats, a chair for my wife, food to eat, a sweater for me. One family gave us a piece of paper with a prepaid hotel reservation -- something I'd not even thought of. Over several weeks more families -- some we knew, most we didn't know -- prepared dinner and brought it over. They lent and donated furniture for our rental house, gave us clothing, provided toys for our children, and some included us in their prayers. Unknown individuals and groups took up collections and sent us money. Though so very embarrassing to accept, it was so very welcome, for we were not in the best financial state, and our insurance firm wasn't easy to work with. We had to bear implications that we could've started the fire ourselves from the insurance company investigators. I learned what emotional shock means. Often I would cry just describing the situation to people. I had no comprehension of the kindness of friends and strangers until this happened. I had done nothing to deserve this kindness. Their outpouring was from their hearts, and at their expense -- just to help. I can't thank them all personally, for some I never met, but I am so thankful for them, they were our angels. I have learned a lesson of human spirit and what is in the hearts of mankind: a lesson to be remembered forever. =======HeroicStories======= >-->From Kidwarmers: ,%&& %&& % ,%&%& %&%& %& %& %&% &%&% % &% % &%% %&% &% %&%&, &%&% %&%& %& &%& % %%& %&%& %&%&% %&%%& &%&% %&% % %& &% %%& && %&% %&%& %&% %&%' '%&% %&% %&&%&%%'% % %& %& %&% &%% `\%%.' /`%&' | | /`-._ _\\/ |, |_ / `-._ ..--~`_ |; |_`\_ / ,\\.~` `-._ - ^ |;: |/^}__..-,@ .~` ~ `o ~ |;: |(____.-' '. ~ - ` ~ |;: | \ / `\ //. - ^ ~ |;: |\ /' /\_\_ ~. _ ~ - //- jgs\\/;: \'--' `---` `\\//-\\/// >FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY Rosemarie, the only girl in a family of boys, went fishing with her dad. When they got back, Rosemarie proudly showed her grandma the fish she got. "And now you have to clean them," her grandmother said. Rosemarie responded, "No, Grandma, we don't have to clean them. They just came out of the water!" -- Ruby Braun (grandmother of Rosemarie) of Wautoma, Wisconsin Carol was in church with her husband and two daughters. While waiting for Sunday school to start, Carol heard Cassie, 5, quietly singing a song. When they asked Cassie what she was singing she said the song was, "Joshua Fought the Battle of Cherry Cola!" After a few minutes Carol realized it was "Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho!" -- Carol Clark of New Creek, West Virginia Betty's grandson James, 3, was expecting a baby sister. He had known about it for a long time and was getting eager to see her. One day he said, "Mommy, just put a zipper on your tummy. I'll only take a little peek and you can zip her in again." -- Betty Jean Parker of Cheyenne, Wyoming ,%%%%%%%, ,%%/\%%%%/\%, ,%%%\c "" J/%%, %. %%%%/ d b \%%% `%%. __ %%%% _ |%%% `%% .-' `"~--"`%%%%(=_Y_=)%%' // .' `. `%%%%`\7/%%%'____ (( / ; `%%%%%%%'____))) `.`--' ,' _,`-._____`-, jgs `"""`._____ `--,` `))) `~"-))) Marissa, 9, was listening to an adult friend who had just returned from Africa explain to her little brother how lions live in the wild. He said that the female lion goes out to hunt for food and the male lion just lies around and waits for her. Marissa said, "Hummm... sounds like an American family to me!" -- Betty Baker (grandmother of Marissa) of Dodd City, Texas This story is in honor of the 100-year anniversary of Harley Davidson. Mollie, who is almost one, is starting to have hair that is long enough for tiny pigtails. Her brother Kyle, 4, asked, "Mom, why does Mollie look like a motorcycle?" Kyle then took his hands and pretended that Mollie's two pigtails were motorcycle handlebars and made a revving sound! -- Nancy Groen (Nancy Cares Day Care) of Eagle, Wisconsin Alex, 5, was showing his Aunt Krista where he keeps all of his crayons on his desk. Most of the ones he has are from boxes he has gotten at restaurants that give them to kids at the table. While marveling at how many crayons he has, he said, "Boy, I sure am lucky we go out to eat a lot!" -- Krista Bayer (Alex's aunt) of Sandston, Virginia .="=. _/.-.-.\_ _ ( ( o o ) ) )) |/ " \| // .-------. \'---'/ // _|~~ ~~ |_ /`"""`\\ (( =(_|_______|_)= / /_,_\ \\ \\ |:::::::::| \_\\_'__/ \ )) |:::::::[]| /` /`~\ |// |o=======.| / / \ / jgs `"""""""""` ,--`,--'\/\ / '-- "--' '--' Madison, 4, was supposed to get up to get ready to go to day care. "I'm too tired, Daddy," she said. "Just 10 more minutes, please." Her father replied, "No, we have to get ready now or we'll be late." "How about six minutes, Daddy?" Finally, she got up and was eating breakfast. "Can I go to work with you, Daddy?" Madison asked. "No, I'm sorry," he replied. "It's dangerous business." (He works on a construction site.) Then he asked, "Why do you want to go to work with me today?" Madison replied, "I want to learn the business." -- Agatha (grandmother of Madison) of Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Canada Amanda was dusting the inside of an unused closet in their home. Jennifer, 5, asked what she was doing. Amanda replied, "Sweeping cobwebs." Jennifer said, "OK." Then after watching Amanda for a few more seconds, Jennifer gasped and said, "Oh my, Amanda... We have cobs?" -- Amanda Toth of Macedonia, Ohio Paige, 7, has acquired several pets, mostly stray kittens that people have dropped off in the country. Unfortunately two met untimely passings. Paige wanted to know where cats and dogs go when they die. Her grandmother told her a story about "Rainbow Heaven" for pets and that satisfied Paige. Then her puppy, Alfalfa, got run over. That evening they were having a funeral for him and Paige asked everyone to say a prayer. When it was Paige's turn she got shy and said, "I don't know what to say". Her mom told her to just say what she'd like for Jesus to have Alfalfa do to have fun in "Rainbow Heaven." Paige bowed her head and with all seriousness said, "Jesus, don't You let Alfalfa mess with my cats up there!" On that note the funeral ended. -- Patsy Campbell (grandmother of Paige) of Portland, Tennessee .---. /o o\ __(= " =)__ //\'-=-'/\\ ) (_ / `"=-._ / \ ``"=. jgs / / \ \ `=..--. ___/ / \ \___ _, , `\ `-----' `""""`'-----``"""` \ \_/ `-` When Caitlin was 2 they lived in an apartment complex with a pool. Every evening when they got home Caitlin would start stripping her clothes off and yell, "Get you Baby Soup on Mommy and we go to the Pooh!" She wanted her mother to put on her bathing suit so that they could go to the pool! -- Christal Bricker (mother of Caitlin and Kyle) of Colorado Springs, Colorado While driving down a bumpy road, Baleigh, 6, said, "I don't know but I think whoever made this road should have spent a little more time on it!" -- Judy Napier (Baleigh's Nana) of Cleveland, Oklahoma ========================================================== __,,,__ ,-""-,-" "-,-""-, /,-' , .-'-.7.-'-. , '-,\ \( / _ _ \ )/ '-, { (0) (0) } ,-' / > .---. < \ |/ .-' \___/ '-. \| {, / ,_ _, \ ,} \ {, \ / ,} / ',\. '---' ./,' _.-""""""-._ _.-""""""-._ .' `._.` '. _/_ _ \ .'` `\ | | \ / | | | ; | / |_| | \ ;'---' _ ___ _ _ ___ ; '. ; | | / \| || || _| _ ; `-\ | |_ | | || |/ /| _| .' `, `\ |___|\___/ \__/ |___| | \ \ _ _ \ | jgs `\ | | | /` _/ ,-""-. .'`\ | | | /`-,-'` .-""-, / `\.' `\ \___/ /` './` \ ; .--. \ '\ /' / .--. ; | ( \ |, '\ /' | / ) | \ ; } ;\ /; ` { ; / `;\ \ _.-' \ / `-._ / /;` \ \__.' _.-' Y `-._ '.__// '.___,.-' `-.,___.' >-->A Prayer of Those Who Care I do not know how long I'll live, but while I live, Lord, let me give. Some comfort to someone in need, by smile or nod, kind word or deed. And let me do what 'er I can, to ease things for my fellow man. I want naught but to do my part to lift a tired, weary heart, To change folks' frowns to smiles again. Then I will not have lived in vain, And I'll care not how long I live, if I can give and give and give. -Author Unknown >Updated FUN STUFF URLS - Oh Yeah Shangy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/urls.html FUN URLS ------------------------------------------------------------------------ -->FULL LENGTH - FREE On line AUDIO MP3 Christian 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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