Jesus Loves Me... :) 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 ================ >-->In The 'Shangy' News :) Well, I finally decided what to do with the guestbook. People seem to feel compelled to write to Akiane and express their feelings about her and her gifted art work. So, I moved the guestbook to that page so people may continue to express themselves. View the changes here... _..._ .~ `~. / } \ _.'`~~/ {_,} -( ,'-,___.' .-. / |_ /| __| |__ / ` |_/ [__ __] / \ / | | / '--;_ | | _\ `\ | | / |`-.___. / | | ^^^jgs^^^`--`------'`--`^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Akiane Child Prodigy! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/prodigy.html -<>- >HOT Off The 'Shangy' Press :) This super sizzler is from our friend Linda. If you love spring then you'll love this one! Check it out here... , .--'|} _ , / /}} -====;o`\/ } .=\.--'`\} \-'\-'----. //` '---./` \ |-..-'` || /| /\/\ \\| | `--` |\_\\/ \__/\\ \\ jgs \| God's Spring Paintings http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/gspring.html --- ...Absolutely Beautiful! Thank You Linda! -<>- _______ / /_ / -/- / / / / / / /_______/ / jgs ((______| / `"""""""` >-->From Our Friends At TruthOrTradition.com: Next Wednesday! Live teaching with John Schoenheit http://tinyurl.com/d5tptrm =========================================================== >-->From Heartwarmers: ,{{}}}}}}. {{{{{}}}}}}}. {{{{ {{{{{}}}} }}}}} _ _ {{{{{ }}}} m m }}}}} {{{{C ^ {{{{{ }}}}}}\ '=' /}}}}}} {{{{{{{{;.___.;{{{{{{{{ }}}}}}}}}) (}}}}}}}}}} {{{{}}}}}': :{{{{{{{{{{ {{{}}}}}} `@` {{{}}}}}}} {{{{{{{{{ }}}}}}}}} }}}}}}}} {{{{{{{{{ jgs {{{{{{{{ }}}}}} }}}}} {{{{ {{{ }} >PROM NIGHT Most parents, with a high school senior, shiver and shake this time of year. And I'm not talkin' graduation here. That's the easy part. It's all about a four-letter word spelled p-r-o-m. A couple of years ago hubby and I were up to our eyeballs debating the "who, why, what, where and the two how's" of the senior prom, which had already consumed several tense months of our lives. You know the kinds questions I mean: WHO was going to chaperone (or who felt like staying up all night with six kids), WHY did we even need a chaperone (yeah right), WHAT to wear (or finding a dress that wouldn't break the piggy bank), WHERE to eat before prom (it had to be chic and grownup, but with plain enough food of the drive-through variety for the discriminating teenager), HOW much was this going to set who back (monetary negotiations on the level of an international summit), and HOW stupid could this whole thing get? I understood that all kiddies employ various strategies in wearing down their parents by tweaking their weak spots. Our daring daughter was no different. "But everyone stays out all night on prom night unsupervised," Katie implored. She had friends that were planning everything from coed camping trips to fifty unsupervised teenagers in a beach house. Regaining my composure and resisting the urge to get sucked into the center of her "hurricane" teenage logic, I countered with, "Are you the official Gallup pollster on the staying-out-all-night tradition at your high school?" I then demanded a bound report with hard statistics (complete with margin of error) from the last five proms. Of course she fell short on producing any documents out of her bulging backpack and the discussion was temporarily tabled long enough for me to plan my attack strategy. After intensive negotiations over the next few weeks, we finally reached the settlement phase with all parties agreeing to "all night in a Galveston hotel (a beachfront town a couple hours down the road from Houston) with a chaperone for the group. While the kids were enjoying their prom, dancing the night away at a Houston ballroom, I scooted down the road to Galveston as the official chaperone/keeper of the hotel keys, and checked into our rooms -- one for the boys, one for the girls and me. A limo was hired to deposit my kids after the dance to the Galveston locale. During my check-in, I stood behind a dolled-up prom couple from another school trying their hand at convincing the clerk to give them a room key. From the heated conversation between the clerk and couple, I learned that twenty-one is the magical minimum age for hotel rentals in Texas. Obviously, these kids weren't even close. Thank goodness the clerk didn't budge, even though according to the student, the girl's mommy rented the room for them. "Shame on that mommy," I said to the clerk when it was my turn to retrieve keys. Pretending to be Wee Willie Winkie to six almost grown kids reminded me of the all-night vigils when we had babies. Only these kids didn't require burping and were much more cooperative. All things considered, prom night went very well. No problems with my little group would be reported in the local newspapers or by school gossips next week with regard to alcohol, property destruction, car wrecks, drugs, or grown-up activities reserved for married partners. The next morning I dragged Katie out of bed for an early church service at a lovely 19th century Galveston church. I remember being slumped over in the pew muttering a prayer of thanksgiving that the "prom storm" had been weathered. Afterwards, we purchased donuts and juice for the group back at the hotel, who hadn't raised so much as an eyelid. The long ride home had been quiet for about an hour when Katie finally broke the silence and said something that made the last two agonizing months worth the trouble. "Mom, thanks for making last night so perfect," she uttered softly before her big blue eyes slammed shut. All I could say was, "Your welcome, sweetheart." I guess she decided her parents really had her best interests at heart after all. --Dixie Frantz _________________________________________________ Dixie Frantz, a fellow heartwarmer from Texas, newspaper columnist, freelances for Women's World magazine, and a wife and mother of three. Her column now appears weekly on the Internet at: http://www.aristatech.com/u ========================================================== >-->From Our Friend KarenF :) _.-/`) // / / ) .=// / / / ) //`/ / / / / // / ` / || / \\ / )) .' jgs // / / Many of you have seen the picture of “The Praying Hands," which is present in many Christian homes, but might not have heard the moving story behind this popular picture. Here is the story. THE STORY BEHIND THE PICTURE OF THE PRAYING HANDS Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of the elder children, Albrecht and Albert, had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.. After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines. They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works. When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you." All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ..no ...no ..no." Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ...for me it is too late." More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, Pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office. One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands." The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one - - ever makes it alone! --- ...Inspiring Story! Thank You KarenF! I must point out that this may just be a good story. We may not be sure who Albrecht Durer's 'Praying Hands' were modeled after, but we do know that the drawing is a sketch (study) for an apostles' hand who was planned to be in the center panel of the triptych for the Heller altar. On the same paper, [is] a sketch of the apostles' head but the sheet has been divided from it. Overall, Dürer made 18 scetches for the altarpiece. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Praying_Hands_%28D%C3%BCrer%29 ================================================================ >-->From Our Friend Bunni :) .---. /` ___|`\ |_/ \| ( -/- ) \_ - _/ .-'|_|'-. / \ / O \ / _____!_____ \ /.-------------.\ \| ,;, |/ | ;;; | | ;;;;;;;;; | | `';;;'` | | ;;; | | ;;; | | ::: | | ';' | | | _| _ __ __ _|_ jgs_/ _ __ ___ __ _\_ _/ __ ___ _ ___ __ _ \_ >Say the Unsaid Things for You never know what tomorrow will bring.... "I didn't take your cigarettes!" I half yelled rudely. "Okay, whatever..." said the deep, grouchy voice I knew too well. "OK, well I'm going." I said dryly. "Aaa-lright." And with the click of the telephone I turned away and headed off to be with some friends. Moments before I had learned that my mother, sister, brother, and step-father were leaving to go on vacation without me. In a terrible fit of jealousy, I let my displeasure be known. I went on and on about how messed up it was I was not invited and how my family did not love me. Just on and on. This rode well into the next day. July 16,1999 is my step-father's 50th birthday. It was going to be his first birthday party ever. My mother had told me two or three times, so I was well aware. I had planned to be there at my dad's first birthday party, (even though every since I had hit adolescence, we never seen eye to eye and fought constantly but in the "situation" I thought he had put me in and in my moment of pure selfishness and resentfulness, I decided to say I'd show and just not go. All the better, my friend called and asked me to go with her to her family reunion ... a perfect excuse! So at about 10 that night I called home collect. It was busy so I left a collect message for later delivery. "Mom, I left your shorts at Aunt Sheila's. If you want them before you leave on vacation tomorrow, better go get em'." No I love you. No be careful. No tell dad happy birthday. All the way to Ohio with my friend, I bad mouthed him and my mom for marrying him. I felt so angry and left out. I blamed it all on him. It was always Denny's fault. I just knew he had been the one to suggest not taking me. We never got along it seemed. Eventually we arrived at our destination and tucked in for the night. I never thought twice about my family. Never one thought of all the fun they were probably having at Denny's birthday party. Not once about the excitement they all had for leaving on vacation tomorrow. Just myself. The next morning after I had got ready, my friend and her family hit the road to meet the rest of them at an all day reunion. We had stopped at K-mart. One of Kelly's relatives pulled up to her car. "Jara, you need to call home. Something bad happened." she had said. "What," I asked, "who?" "Your step-dad had a heart attack or something." she replied. "Is he OK?" I said quietly, as I began to shake. "I don't know, you'll have to call." and she drove away. I got out of the car, headed towards a nearby telephone booth. I dialed collect. My mom's voice came over the line. "Jara..." mom said meekly. "Mom what happened, are you OK?" I asked. "Denny's dead. Come home. Please Jara, come home." "OK mom, I'll be there," I said quietly, "I love you." My legs were rubber, I couldn't talk, tears were flooding my eyes and running down my face. That night at his birthday party, after the guests had left, Denny had suffered a massive heart attack. It was caused from emphysema and heart disease, that even he never knew about. He died in my mother's arms. You see, I never made peace with Denny. I never took the time to show how really important to me he was. I never took the time to tell him he was my Daddy. He had been there when my biological dad hadn't. He was the one who clothed, fed, and sheltered me as long as I can remember. He was the one that rubbed my belly for hours when I was home sick from school. He was the one who helped me move into my first apartment. He was the one that tried till his death bed to give me values and responsibility. He was the one man in my life I knew that would love me unconditionally. I never told him how much all that meant to me. I never told him that he was my daddy. After all this, I've learned it's so important not to let things go unsaid, no matter how minor or major. Even though I know Denny knew I loved him, I would feel so much better knowing for sure he knew because I hurt him in so many ways. And you see, he never complained. Author Unknown --- ...So true! Thank You Bunni! -<>- ___ /___\ |/. .\| ( > ) \ - / _)_(_ .' '. /.-.___.-.\ [_________] | | | , | | -|- | | | | | | | | | | .---------. __,-'---------'-,__ __jgs___|___________________|_________ >Help Somebody! It was a cold winter's day that Sunday. The parking lot to the church was filling up quickly. I noticed as I got out of my car that fellow church members were whispering among themselves as they walked to the church. As I got closer I saw a man leaned up against the wall outside the church. He was almost laying down as if he was asleep. He had on a long trench coat that was almost in shreds and a hat topped his head, pulled down so you couldn't see his face. He wore shoes that looked 30 years old, too small for his feet, with holes all over them, his toes stuck out. I assumed this man was homeless, and asleep, so I walked on by through the doors of the Church. We all enjoyed fellowship for a few minutes, and then someone brought up the man who was laying outside. People snickered and gossiped, but no one bothered to ask him to come in, including me. A few moments later church began. We all waited for the Preacher to take his place, and to give us The Word, then the doors to the church opened. In came the homeless man, walking down the aisle with his head down. People gasped and whispered and made faces. He made his way down the aisle and up onto the pulpit. When he took off his hat and coat my heart sank. There stood our preacher. HE was the "homeless man." No one said a word... the room was silent and still. Then the preacher took his Bible and laid it on the stand. "Folks, I don't think I have to tell you what I'm preaching about today." Then he started singing the words to this song... "If I can help somebody as I pass along, If I can cheer somebody with a word or song, If I can show somebody that he's traveling wrong, Then my living shall not be in vain." Author Unknown --- ...Doing God's Work insures that! Thanks Bunni! 1 Cor.15: [58] Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord. ============================================================== >-->From TruthOrTradition: , , /////| ///// | ///// | |~~~| | | |===| |/| | B |/| | | I | | | | B | | | | L | / | E | / |===|/ jgs '---' Knowing Jesus Christ by Dan Gallagher Jesus made it clear that the only way to have a relationship with the Father was through him. In order to really know God, we must develop a true and intimate relationship with His son, Jesus. Many recognize this truth but lack a clear understanding of how they can really "know" Jesus Christ. For centuries Christians have attempted to know him in variety of ways and through a myriad of practices. In this teaching Dan Gallagher solidly demonstrates how we can "know Christ" through three unmistakable ways; the Word of God, the Body of Christ, and through personal spiritual practices. Knowing Jesus is the key to growing in devotion to him and to the Father. We believe this teaching will greatly enhance your spiritual growth by helping you on your journey of growing closer to Christ. http://www.stfpodcast.com/File/jan2012_knowing_jesus_christ.mp3 ================================================================= >-->From Archives InspiredBuffalo: .:.:.:. / .***. \ | / ,,, \ | | \/6.6\/ | | ( _ ) | / /`"""`\ \ .:.:( (/|\) ):.:. ':'/':_A_:'\':' / \ .:.:.:.:.:.:.:. ':':':':':':':':' jgs _|_|_|_ (___|___) >Jesus Loves Me! While watching a little TV on Sunday instead of going to church, I watched a Church in Atlanta honoring one of its senior pastors who had been retired many years. He was 92 at that time and I wondered why the Church even bothered to ask the old gentleman to preach at that age. After a warm welcome, introduction of this speaker, and as the applause quieted down he rose from his high back chair and walked slowly, with great effort and a sliding gait, to the podium. Without a note or written paper of any kind he placed both hands on the pulpit to steady himself and then quietly and slowly he began to speak... 'When I was asked to come here today and talk to you, your pastor asked me to tell you what was the greatest lesson ever learned in my 50 odd years of preaching. I thought about it for a few days and boiled it down to just one thing that made the most difference in my life and sustained me through all my trials. The one thing that I could always rely on when tears and heartbreak and pain and fear and sorrow paralyzed me... the only thing that would comfort was this verse... Jesus loves me this I know. For the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong, we are weak but He is strong..... Yes, Jesus loves me... The Bible tells me so.' When he finished, the church was quiet. You actually could hear his footsteps as he shuffled back to his chair. I don't believe I will ever forget it. A pastor once stated, 'I always noticed that it was the adults who chose the children's hymn 'Jesus Loves Me' (for the children, of course) during a hymn sing, and it was the adults who sang the loudest because I could see they knew it the best.' 'Senior version of Jesus Loves Me' Here is a new version just for us who have white hair or no hair at all. For us over middle age (or even those almost there) and all you others check out this newest version of 'Jesus Loves Me'.. JESUS LOVES ME Jesus loves me, this I know, Though my hair is white as snow Though my sight is growing dim, Still He bids me trust in Him. YES, JESUS LOVES ME.. YES, JESUS LOVES ME.. YES, JESUS LOVES ME FOR THE BIBLE TELLS ME SO. Though my steps are oh, so slow, With my hand in His I'll go On through life, let come what may, He'll be there to lead the way. (CHORUS) When the nights are dark and long, In my heart He puts a song. Telling me in words so clear, 'Have no fear, for I am near.' (CHORUS) When my work on earth is done, And life's victories have been won. He will take me home above, Then I'll understand His love (CHORUS) I love Jesus, does He know? Have I ever told Him so? Jesus loves to hear me say, That I love Him every day. God Bless Us All !!! Live your life like nothing will get in the way, live it with God and you will go farther, than your wildest dreams ever took you!!!!!!!!! -<>- .---. / __ /\ | / `\ | \| . . |/ ( _\ ) | - | \ . / |'---'| /'. _ .'\ .-`-._|_|_.-`-. jgs /` \ / `\ `|' -|- | >FATHER ED By: Joseph J. Mazzella Father Ed, the priest of the church I attended as a child passed away this Summer. He will be missed by many including me. I can still see him so clearly in my heart and mind. Tall, thin, quiet, friendly, and smart with thinning hair and thick glasses, he always looked more like an engineer than a priest. He was a great lover of classical music. One of my most vibrant memories of him was a long trip we took together over curvy, mountainous roads. Father Ed was steering the car with one hand and directing with the other while Beethoven’s 9th symphony serenaded us from his cassette deck. Looking back now I can still feel his spirit swaying in his body while the music played. Father Ed’s greatest love, however, was the tireless work he did for God. He preached, wrote columns and books, visited prisons, taught in schools, and ministered everywhere for the love of God from the streets of Indianapolis to the hills of West Virginia. It was these mountains and their people that touched his heart the most deeply, though, and I am happy that he was able to end his work on Earth here. He did the very best work he could every single day. Even though his body aged, wore down, and finally surrendered to death, his spirit never did. Father Ed may have left us now, but his work goes on. The work we do for the love of God never ends, but thankfully God’s love for us never ends either. God’s love not only produces the best work but also the best people. Father Ed was one of them. Thinking of Father Ed reminds me that we are more than just these bodies that carry us around. We are spirits dancing in the flesh. We are more than just the work we do. We are the love of God working inside of us. We are more than just these lives we live. We are the love we give and the joy we share every moment of them. God bless you Father Ed. We miss you. -<>- .. |\\ .====^^\\==. |\ || |\ kya :X"====^^====' \|XXXXXXXXXX| """"""""""" >The Wicker Basket The story is told of an old man who lived on a farm in the mountains of eastern Kentucky with his young grandson. Each morning, Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading from his old worn-out Bible. His grandson who wanted to be just like him tried to imitate him in any way he could. One day the grandson asked, 'Papa, I try to read the Bible just like you but I don't understand it, and what I do understand I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Bible do?' The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and said, 'Take this old wicker coal basket down to the river and bring back a basket of water.' The boy did as he was told, even though all the water leaked out before he could get back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, "You will have to move a little faster next time,' and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again. This time the boy ran faster, but again the old wicker basket was empty before he returned home. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was 'impossible to carry water in a basket,' and he went to get a bucket instead. The old man said, 'I don't want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You can do this. You're just not trying hard enough,' and he went out the door to watch the boy try again. At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got far at all. The boy scooped the water and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather the basket was again empty. Out of breath, he said, 'See Papa, it's useless!' 'So you think it is useless?' The old man said, 'Look at the basket.' The boy looked at the basket and for the first time he realized that the basket looked different. Instead of a dirty old wicker coal basket, it was clean. 'Son, that's what happens when you read the Bible. You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, it will change you from the inside out.' Moral of the wicker basket story: Take time to read a portion of God's word each day; it will affect you for good even if you don't retain a word. Thought for Today: God's Love is like the ocean, you can see its beginnings but not its end. --- ...ALWAYS Ask God for wisdom, knowledge and understanding when reading and studying the Bible. Prov.2: [6] For the LORD giveth wisdom: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and understanding. -<>- >Links for Your Enjoyment Lighthouses Of The World! http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/lighthouses.html Until We Write Again! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/write.html Identity Theft #2! http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/identitytheft2.html High Tech Toys! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/techtoys.html Ocean Exploration! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/ocean.html Relics From The Past! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/relics.html Tech Horror Stories! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/tech.html MacGyver - How To Do It 3! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/macgyver3.html Mountain Biking! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/mountainbiking.html Patriot Fire/Rescue/Transport! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/patriot.html Polar Bear Cubs! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/polarbears.html 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 If You haven't joined LynnLynn's mailing List yet, send a blank e-mail to LynnLynns-links-subscribe@Yahoogroups.com ========================================================== ,-'-. _., . ( '("'-' '). ( ' (( |. )\/( ) '( )) | () |" | | ') ( . ,-. ,-.. __.) /) / ' / / /) / / PjP >Rainstorm Story Editor: by Janet Hounsell Randy Cassingham New Hampshire, USA I live in a small New England Village. One summer's day, I drove slowly along our main street as a horrendous and sudden summer shower threatened. The sky darkened and the wind whipped around warningly. I pulled to the side of the street. A rusticating pick-up truck pulled ahead of me into the next parking place. Open to the weather in its body were what was obviously the family's entire belongings: mattresses on end, baskets and boxes of clothing, and other household goods. "Oh my, those poor people," I thought, observing children in the seat of the truck cab. They were obviously moving from one home to another and their belongings, humble though they were, were going to get soaked! Just then a little old lady whipped by me and into the variety store before which we were all parked to wait out the storm. In minutes, she was out again, tearing the wrapping from a package containing a huge sheet of plastic. She busily rapped on the window of the truck, and motioned the woman driver out and between them they whipped that covering over the entire load in the body of the truck! Rain came down in torrents and the wind whipped around in a demented fashion. Fighting the gale, the two women managed to weigh down the plastic sheet's corners and edges, thereby providing protection for the little family's belongings. Everyone back inside their vehicles, we sat out the brief storm. The sun broke out in all its splendor. I rolled down my window as the little old lady and the young mother emerged to meet at the rear of the pick-up. And I heard the wizened (and soaking wet) little old lady say, "Don't thank me, Just Pass It On when you have the opportunity." =======HeroicStories======= >-->From Kidwarmers: __,=,__ .~`` .` `.``~. | . . |____ `-;=============;""""` ( (. _).) \ | | \ `-.___.' / '._ _.' /`''''\ / \ | |/\/\/\/|.-. |-|/\/\/\/|;' ) (__/_______| _) #########'._) jgs |==|=|__ ,,,(______)_),,,, ,,,;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;,,,, ,,,;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;,,, ,;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;, >FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY When Nancy asked her husband who would be going to the town hall to get their dog's license, their 6-year-old yelled, "Twister is going to drive the car?" -- Nancy Petrunyak of Rockaway Township, New Jersey When June asked Katie, 3, what happened to her gum, she matter-of-factly answered, "It went down my drain." (She'd swallowed it!) -- June McKinney of New Orleans, Louisiana Baillie, 5, was telling her friend Amanda that she was given some new earrings. Amanda asked her if they were diamonds. Baillie replied, "No, they're not diamonds, they're more like circles." -- Jay Miller (grandfather of Baillie) of Slaterville, Utah _,,_ __ d888888bd888b d88888888888888B 8888888P`Y8888P Y888888 (, \_ ,_Y88( ) Y888888b __\ '8"888P (_ jgs | .---' ~;~~\~ .=. \ (_ _) \ |=| \ _ /| | \ /_\/ | | | .-'--/_/------'-. `-.,___________,.-' | || |___|| |___|| .'""'';.__ (_________)) Alicia was shopping and she used her credit card to pay the bill. The clerk said, "Thank you, Alicia," when she handed back the credit card. Janelle, 7, asked, "How did you know my Mom's name?" The clerk replied, "I'm a mother. I know everything." Janelle shot back, "What's my name?" -- Alicia Snow of Kendallville, Indiana One evening Lisa and her husband were playing cards with another couple. The kids were sitting around the kitchen table, watching. During the course of the game, one of the players called a "miss deal." Lisa's 8-year-old daughter asked, "Mommy, who is Miss Deal?" -- Lisa of Missouri Ashley, 3, and Allison, 5, were visiting their grandmother. She was doing some cleaning, and she asked Allison to take the broom and sweep off the large front porch. Allison didn't hesitate. When the grandmother saw the 3-year-old watching her big sister sweep, she was afraid she would feel left out so she asked, "Ashley, why don't you help clean off the porch." Ashley stuck out her lower lip, rolled her eyes and said, "I'm NOT your Cinderella!" -- Lottie Royal (grandmother of Ashley and Allison) of Wray, Georgia ,--.,-"";-"-. .-;-/ / / .- `\ .-. ` ( ' ' ` ; `\/ \ \ / \ / (. C . ) | .-. | | _ / (` / | \ /}| | )(\ | `-> (____.| / ||| / \=====| | |\| | |====| \ _/ ` \__/=====| |` `-'======| \ |=======/ | |=======| | .--, ########\ |/ / jgs |_|__|| ` `--. ,---;-'--'\ `--. `---`-------'-.___,___.---' Gene decided to get a curly perm. Getting the curly perm made him about two hours late getting home. Stephen, 2, had never seen his father with curly hair. He had been waiting at the door, watching for his father. When his dad came through the door, Stephen did not go immediately to his father. He looked at his father for several minutes -- almost as if he didn't know him -- annd then said, finally, "Dad, you got circles in your hair!" -- Reba Wagner (mother of Stephen) of Dunlap, Tennessee Cody, 6, was watching a show on the Discovery Channel about underwater animals. When a jellyfish appeared on the screen, he asked his mother what it was. She told him and he replied very seriously, "So that's where you get jelly from!" -- Selma Ornelas (mother of Cody) of Arlington, Washington Patsy was in church with her granddaughter Paige, 7. The pastor was talking about the war, how prayers are needed and how the soldiers don't even know who the enemy is, because of the suicide bombings that had occurred. When the pastor made the statement about how sometimes the soldiers don't even know who the enemy is, Paige looked up from her coloring and said to her grandmother, "It's Saddam Hussein. Do you think I need to tell him?" -- Patsy Campbell of Portland, Tennessee Roy and his wife were dressing Andi, 2. They asked her if she wanted to wear her tennis shoes or her sandals. She immediately replied, "I want to wear my piggies!" -- Roy Britton (father of Andi) of Carrollton, Texas / `'. ,-"` '. / /'-.'. ___ .' \ \/ '.\.' ' | .| .'`\ | /`"'--., / \ , _.--'` \/_ | ,----.| _ `_--;` ``` `\-. | | \ | -- C -- _/ \ \ | \ 0 0 / . | | \| ) | '. _.' |.__/ ; \ `'---` / / __ '. .' | (__) /'-._____,-` \ /---'.-""-.\ '. / ||,- \\ ;---`;-._||-= |\ , ."""-. \ ) `|'.___.' \ ___ \'. / '-. \ /`-`-; / \ ,/ `) \ \| \ `` | | \|| / /'.| )_ / || | | \/ .' \ \ .-'/ ` |` |.-' .-~ ~-~-._ |.'` \ ` '-. \___/,__/ ~` _ `~~-., `-.,_\_)`-.,_\) `~-,___ ~___~,,..-~~/ jgs \___/`\____/'._.' Cassie is a preschool teacher. One day, one of her students was telling a story and Cassie was writing down what she said. The little girl was speaking fast and Cassie had already filled up one page. Cassie said, "Slow down, please, I can't keep up. You're talking too fast." The little girl replied, "I have fast breath." -- Cassie Campbell of Paris, Kentucky Cassie, 2, was drawing a picture of her sister Haley, 4. She was nearly finished and her grandmother noticed that she had not drawn any hair. "Where is Haley's hair?" her grandmother asked. Cassie showed her grandmother the pen and said, "It's still in here!" -- Elizabeth Humphrey (grandmother of Cassie and Haley) of Southside, Alabama Several of Pat's grandchildren were visiting over the busy Memorial Day weekend. Late in the evening, one of the grandchildren was overheard saying, "All right, you all better settle down, Mammer needs some 'pieces of quiet!'" -- Pat Martin (Mammer) of Chandler, Texas ,--""""-., .'` ', / | | _ / __,'(,-'/ `\ _. / .=="=| '-. | .'===,=|-. | / /===\==\| \ \ _;' | |====\==\ '.___,u' \__/ |===.##,=\ |==/####\='-.__ \#|#####|`/^|_))._________________ #######/`| |_.-'""""""=' ] #####/\/ /__,________;------.---' jgs `###' |_/ V V Alex, 5, is a very strong swimmer. His grandmother (who they call Muz) was giving him pointers on how to swim even better. She told him that in order to go faster, he needed to spread his arms out and swim more on top of the water, to which he replied, "No, Muz. I'm not Jesus!" -- Krista Bayer (Alex's aunt) of Sandston, Virginia On Mother's Day weekend, Lora's family went camping. They were all outside enjoying the beautiful spring weather. Ashlyn, 7, and her friend Vanessa were coloring Mother's Day cards for Lora outside on the picnic table. Evan, 10, was playing football with his dad, and Alysia, 3, was sifting sand, gravel and rocks through a sifter. Alysia got Lora's attention when she yelled proudly, "Look, Mommy, I drew you a picture, too!" It was on the hood of Lora's brand new car. She did it with a rock! Lora explained to her that what she did was very bad, and it would have to be repainted. Alysia said crying, innocently, "Oh Mommy, I'm very sorry, but can I help you paint it? I will make it pretty for you!" -- Lora Perkins of Dubuque, Iowa ========================================================== ..-"""--. .' '. .'_ _ \ _..-' 0) 0) ,;;,'. .' /,;;;;; \ / ___ / ,;;;;; | ; (;;;) , ,| ;;;;;; | ; `"` ,_ .'(.-')| ;;;;;; / \ \ ` ( \';;;'.' '._;--' _ _ '-./`--` '-, _ _ ) (`-/ \/ |_--; ;- \ ) \ \.' .-' | / | / \ /'._.'\ .-""-./`'---;-""-. | / \ / \ | | | | ||__.-`) | | | |/__.-' | |_.| |' jgs \ / \ / '----' '----' >-->WAIT by Russell Kelfer Desperately, helplessly, longingly I cried; Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied. I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate, And the Master so gently, said, "Child you must wait." My future and all to which I relate, Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to WAIT? I'm needing a "yes," a go-ahead sign, Or a "no," to which I then can resign. And Lord, you promised that if we believe, We need but to ask, and we shall receive. And Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry, I'm weary of asking, I need a reply! Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate; As my Master replied, once again, "You must wait." So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut And grumbled to God, "so I'm waiting... for what?" He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes wept with mine, And He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign." I could shake the heavens and darken the sun, I could raise the dead, and cause the mountains to run. All you seek I could give, and pleased you would be. You would have what you want, but you would not know Me. You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint. You'd not know the power that I give to the faint. You'd not learn to see through the clouds of despair, You'd not learn to trust by knowing I'm there. You'd not know the joy of resting in Me, When darkness and silence were all you could see. You'd never experience that fullness of love, As the peace of My Spirit descends like a dove. The glow of My comfort, late into the night, The faith that I give, when you walk without sight. The depth that's beyond getting just what you asked, Of an infinite God, who makes what you have, last. So, be silent, My child, and in time you will see, That the greatest of gifts is to get to know Me. And though oft' My answers seem terribly late, My most precious answer of all, is still WAIT. >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 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 andd 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? SHARE IT HERE: Share A Recipe ************************************************************************ >TO SUBSCRIBE: Visit Here This Weeks regular Shangy emails OR For the Yahoo ShangyFunList: To Subscribe send a blank email to ShangyFunList-subscribe@yahoogroups.com ************************************************************************