Jingle Our Bells ... ;) Shangy! >Here are the details on our Yahoo ShangyFunList: To Subscribe send a blank email to ShangyFunList-subscribe@yahoogroups.com Group home page: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ShangyFunList or Web Site: http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/ShangyFunList.html Group email address: ShangyFunList@yahoogroups.com or email me here: bcrsystems@earthlink.net =========================== >-->Christmas Card Exchange... _ J I N G L E \ (__ O U R '.__`'-. B E L L S `'. \ __ .--._) | __..--''__``--../ \_/\.' .'`__..--`` ``--..\ \ / | ( '--' \ ;--. /\_/ \__ .--. \ \ /__`'--/\_/ \ '--' `'--\ / /----. '--`-----.`\ __) | .'__.' jgs /_( Oh, Yes, Before I forget, any one wishing to exchange Christmas cards this year, I have gotten some extra and will return a card to any who send us one with their return address. Send it to us here: Paul & Elrhea Bigham 502 S. Harrison Street Van Wert, OH 45891 AND we'll send you one back :) -<>- >-->Hot Off The 'Shangy' Press... __ [_ | _____||_____ .'` _ || .'`\ ,;;, / _[_]_ || / | _($)/)___ | (") \/ | | /__(/$___/| | >/ . \< | || || || | \_:_/ | _.'| || || '-----...----`\ |____||____|/ | | \ | | | '.__/ jgs | | This one the thanks goes to Maxy's Pal for sending us the forward of a sweet one... She writes: "I WISH THE ENTIRE WORLD MIGHT READ THIS. SEE WHAT YOU THINK. JTW." Be sure to turn your sound up! The Cost Of A Child http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/costofchild.html The Cost of A Child --- ...Thank You Maxy's Pal - this was a challenge for me but I was finally able to get the page the way I wanted it :) -<>- AND If you haven't already, be sure to visit: In a Blink Of An Eye http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/eye.html In A Blink Of An Eye ...Please PASS These Two On - Bunches of HUGGUMS and Thanks! :) -<>- >From Our Friend Tony in Australia :) Tony forwarded us an email I had received before from our good friend Steve. A wonderful heartwarming forward, I couldn't resist doing up as a web page. In case you missed it, here it is again: _, .-"``'. _..-"`` \ / \ _.-" | \ /|\ \ .--...-' | '-' | | | \ :: | | | | | :: | / / | | :: | / / \ / .: | / / . '._ _.' .: | / / :: ``--`` .: / ; ;| :: .: / | | \ ':. Polar Bear Encounter ' / | | `. ':. .' | | _'. ': .' | | /` `\`-._ ____ ____ __,-;` ; ; \_/\ \.-'```'-._`""`_.-'```'-._\ \ __ \ \ / _.-'`'-._ '..' _.-'`'-. '. \ / `\ \ \ / .' '. .' /`\_) . \ \__ \ \ <.____________> <_____\____/_> '.__) | jgs '._ / `""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""` http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/polar.html --- ...Thanks Tony, I enjoyed seing this one again! -<>- >From Our Friend Connie Sue :) Connie wrote and asked for the URL for LynnLynn's Links to send them a Link to her own Christmas page from her beautiful website here: Then Sings My Soul http://www.thensingsmysoul.net/ Just in case you are needing the info too, here is what I sent to her... Thank you for your kind words. I love LynnLynn's Links too! Generally I just go to their group page and email Buffalo from there - the url addy is: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lynnlynns-links/ And At the same time I post to Nancy of Inspired Buffalo here: mailto:Inspired@lighthouse.net They are the best! God's Blessings, :) Shangy! Thanks Connie Sue for your inquiry! ====================================================================== _ ________ _( )_ | .##@@&&&@@# ( ` )_ \ _ / ,##@&::%&&%%:.( ) ( `) -= (_) =- #@&:%%000000 (__ (_ . _) _) / \ #@&:%00' / / / / / / | #@&:%0' / / / / / / Diana H. Chaytor #@&:%0 dchaytor@jach.hawaii.edu #@&:%0 ~NO RAIN, NO RAINBOWS~ http://www.islandnet.com/~chaytor jgs#@&:%0============================================================= >-->It's In The Valleys I Grow by Dr. P. L. Williams Sometimes life seems hard to bear, Full of sorrow, trouble and woe. It's then I have to remember, That it's in the valleys I grow. If I always stayed on the mountain top And never experienced pain, I would never appreciate God's love And would be living in vain. I have so much to learn And my growth is very slow. Sometimes I need the mountain tops, But it's in the valleys I grow. I do not always understand Why things happen as they do, But I am very sure of one thing, My Lord will see me through. My little valleys are nothing When I picture Christ on the cross. He went through the valley of death; His victory was Satan's loss. Forgive me Lord, for complaining When I'm feeling so very low. Just give me a gentle reminder That it's in the valleys I grow. Continue to strengthen me, Lord And use my life each day. To share your love with others And help them find their way. Thank you for valleys, Lord For this one thing I know, The mountain tops are glorious But it's in the valleys I grow! ============================= >--->Today We have a Wonderful Teaching to go along with this poem | \ / .---. '-. | | .-' ___| |___ -= [ ] =- `---. .---' __||__ | | __||__ '-..-' | | '-..-' || | | || ||_.-| |-,_|| .-"` `"`'` `"-. jgs .' '. >From TruthOrTraditions: Hello and God bless you! We have added an article to TruthOrTradition.com that covers Colossians 1:24. Here are the opening few paragraphs: Colossians 1:24 (NIV) Now I (Paul) rejoice in what was suffered for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church. I (John Schoenheit) can tell you that I did not have a clue what that verse meant for years; in fact, I actually was on a translating committee that translated that verse from the Greek and could bring the words over into English, but I still did not know what it meant. It has been a difficult verse because of what it is saying, "I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church." What is this saying here? What could possibly be lacking in Christ’s afflictions? We have all heard the song, "It is not by works of righteousness but by his faith alone…Jesus paid it all." We have been led to believe that Jesus Christ paid the price for all sin. I want to tell you that he paid the price for all sin as far as the redemption and the salvation of mankind is concerned. Nobody can commit any sin where they are not able to go to Jesus Christ and get forgiven and get saved. To read / listen to this teaching, click here. http://snipurl.com/1uih9 If the above hyper link does not work, please cut and paste the link below into your address bar. http://www.truthortradition.com/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=896 You are always in our prayers! The Home Office Staff Spirit and Truth Fellowship International www.STFonline.org =========================================================================== >-->From Heartwarmers: THE SIGN by Roger Dean Kiser "Feel like driving a car today?" I asked my son on the telephone. Several minutes earlier, one of the local car dealers had telephoned and asked if I might pick up a new car in Vidalia and bring it back to Brunswick. "Always use a little extra Christmas money," replied Roger Junior. "Let me change clothes and I'll be over in a few minutes," he said. It was about 6:30 in the morning when we made our way onto the 95 interstate freeway, heading northbound. As we traveled along it was suggested that I buy breakfast for the two of us. Being a little hungry, I agreed and pulled off at the next exit. Very carefully, I pulled into a parking space located right next to a handicap spot. I smiled back as one of the two women said "Good morning" to us, as they were unloading a wheelchair from the side of a large white van. Sitting in the wheelchair was a gentleman dressed in a military uniform. I looked down and noticed that both his pant legs were folded beneath his knees. I also noticed officer's bars on his uniform. "Good morning, Captain," I said as I saluted him. "And a good morning to you, sir," he replied back. The five of us traveled up the narrow walkway to the door of the small restaurant. Not thinking, I stepped up a three inch cement curb and opened the door for the Captain and the two women. "There's a wheelchair ramp located on the other side of the building," said a large man, with a name tag, who came walking very quickly out the front door. "In the last two years I've scaled walls higher than this building, ran up and down rubble piles higher than three of my vans piled atop one another. I think I can make it over his curb," said the officer. "I'm sure you can, sir," said the man, as he also saluted the Captain. Roger Jr. and I grabbed hold of the wheelchair handles and as the soldier pushed forward on the wheels of his chair, Roger and I pushed forward. Up and over the cement hump he went, with no difficulty, whatsoever. As one of the women pushed him through the doorway of the restaurant, the large man wearing a name tag snatched a small sign down, which had been taped to the glass door. "I saw that," said the Captain, as he laughed. "This sign was never meant to include heroes," said the manager, as he hid the sign behind himself. "In fact this sign will never appear in this doorway, ever again," he continued, as he wadded up the piece of paper. "I am a writer. May I have that, please?" I asked the man. Slowly, he handed me the wadded up piece of paper, which I stuck into my pants pocket. The sign read: "No Shoes - No Shirt - No Service" -- Roger Dean Kiser ____________________________________________ Roger is a Heartwarmer Gem is his noted for some of the most powerful stories ever told. He has just released a brand new book, "Runaway," that you can find at this link: http://www.pocketwarmers.com/b Get your autographed copy today. You can email Roger here: mailto:trampolineone@earthlink.net ===================================================================== >-->From Our Friend Tony In Australia :) _______ / /_ / -/- / / / / / / /_______/ / jgs ((______| / `"""""""` >Study the Scriptures! PART ONE Folks, Brothers and Sisters, friends and family.. WE LIVE IN A FRIGHTENING AGE!.... “ Oh here he goes! Another scare monger!” Well, if you have any sense you SHOULD be scared! All the signs and wonders around us SHOULD convince you…but do they? If you are reading this, you are either a devout Christian, a ‘practicing’ Christian , a ‘passive’ Christian or just curious….so read on. Times change, but there are those things that dod NOT change and GOD is one of those things that remains just the same today as He was in the past and WILL be in the future…His promises linger and slowly they unfurl. In the Book of Solomon we read there that he said that there is nothing new under the sun and as always, ( almost always!) Solomon was right….But how is it then? That we face the same problems today as people faced in his day? Especially in Churchs….. We have been taught down through history that knowledge is power….We tell our kids to stay in school! Otherwise you will finish up surviving only through the sweat of your brow ! Just as we probably did after our own parents gave us that age old lecture! But what exactly does the Bible say about all this? Hosea 4:6-9 6 My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge. Because you have rejected knowledge, I also will reject you from being priest for Me; Because you have forgotten the law of your God, I also will forget your children. 7 " The more they increased, The more they sinned against Me; I will change their glory into shame. 8 They eat up the sin of My people; They set their heart on their iniquity. 9 And it shall be: like people, like priest. So I will punish them for their ways, And reward them for their deeds. Well here’s another one of Gods promises are we going to listen? Or do we only take heed when He is promising prosperity in abundance? Nothing that God has told us has changed…..he still requires us to get to know Him but HOW? Well we have been told that answer a million times……through HIS word! Notice here that the scriptures mentions ‘priests’….YES! that might well be YOU! ‘People’ as in ‘the masses’ are not the only ones who will be judged ! In fact the Bible tells us that the judgement will begin in the Churches! Which means….. “ the Priests” will looked at very carefully! Knowledge CAN be dangerous in the wrong hands ….sure it can! But ‘lack’ of knowledge will be our downfall, more so the lack of knowledge of God! The modern church is in extreme danger! No one seems to see that there IS a decline in Christianity and one of the causes is in ‘time’ management! And I am as guilty as the next person! We think that 5 minutes spent reading the occasional ‘devotional’, 5 minutes spent in prayer a day is enough to let God know we are thinking of Him..Yeah right! FOR ABOUT 10 MINUTES ! We are thinking of Him, then our thoughts are on a million other less important things! There was a point in history, where the ‘common man’ wasn’t allowed to have access to a Bible…WHY? because folks, the ‘powers that ‘were’’, KNEW there was power in the Written Word! Of God! So for decades men became ‘dumb and dumber’ about God!and they relied purely on those who could manage to twist and turn and manipulate their minds! And Biblical knowledge was no more available to any but those who were’priests’….Do ‘we’ who suppose to be ‘leaders’ have enough knowledge? The answer will always be “we have knowledge, but never enough!” The “Church” is becoming like any other ‘fast food’ outlet….We “pop in” look at the menu, select something we ‘fancy’, eat it toss away what we don’t like and go about our business…. That’s the way it is for the majority of people these days. Ever noticed how on the days when there’s free food after the service the church has lots of ‘attendees’ ? why is that I wonder? Well, we will leave that well alone! End of part one Part two 2 Timothy 3: 16 All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, 17 that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work. 2 Timothy 2: 15 Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. Today, we need to remind each other, just as the first ‘disciples’ reminded each other that we have to KNOW the scriptures. Now this takes personal ‘discipline’, hence the term ‘disciple’. You cant be a carpenter without learning the trade, you cant be a Doctor without studying and you cant be a teacher without having been ‘taught’. Dieticians will all tell you that ‘fast food’ is not good for you! you will be hungry again in an hours time! It seems to ‘fill you up’ and after a little while, you feel you need more and you are never really satisfied. The ‘bun’ is all neatly rolled up and looks impressive, but to get to the food you have to get passed the wrapping and funny uh? when we unwrap it, we find’ it looks bigger and better up on the menu board! We eat it anyway, wishing we had ordered perhaps 2? And we don’t feel ‘satisfied’. Well people, I am not here to write about ‘fast foods’ but I am here to remind you as I need reminding sometimes that biblical knowledge( POWER!) is not ‘fast food’..! We cannot get ‘spiritually ‘ healthy because there is no such thing as spiritual ‘fast food’. We cannot rush into church once a week, hang around for perhaps 90 mins and get enough’food’ to keep us going for the rest of the week! We NEED spiritual ENERGY food! And that comes by STUDYING and DEVOURING! The word of God! You want to let someone study all week to put together a sermon that lasts an hour and do YOU expect to sit back on your seat and watch that man or woman SWEAT! Bringing you the word of God, get a quick ‘fix’ and be on your way? Is that going to get you enough ‘spiritual’ food to keep you going? Well, I tell ya…. IF! You are a ‘leader’ you are a soldier! And soldiers carry weapons and ammunition! You better have your bible with you! and every moment you can, read…read..read! You can read some of those precious scriptures a dozen times and each time you come across it…IF you are being attentive! God will give you something NEW! To ponder! Not good enough! To just go to church as though you are visiting a restaurant! To ‘eat your fill’ yet complain about the food! Being too hot! too cold! Whatever! FAITH…….! Does not come wrapped in paper or in plastic cups! Faith comes by…………………….???? Go figure. END OF PART 2 STUDY THE SCRIPTURES --- ...great teaching - Thanks Tony! ==================================================================== >A Symbol of Humanity Story Editor: by Debbie Joyce Schowalter California, USA .-=-. /.-=-.\ ||_____|| ||. .|| || || / |\___/| \ You treat me kind / |=====| \ | |\_._/| | jgs `--.| T |.--' I work in the children's department of a major department store. In February 2005 I encountered a customer of Arab descent, or so I assumed at the time because of her clothing. She was dressed in black and gray from head to toe, including having most of her face covered. She was looking around guiltily because she was about to rip open a packaged dress shirt. It's no big deal really. Everybody does it. Because of my training, my first thought was "theft", because she was acting so guilty. But then I saw her eyes: she was AFRAID. I approached her and asked if she needed help. She was clutching a dress shirt for boys, and now she looked terrified. It was amazing how much emotion I could see in her eyes. I believe in "eye contact" and looking someone in the eye when speaking with them, but how often do we *really* do this? In fact, it's possible that not being able to see her whole face helped me to see "her". She didn't speak English. She kept pointing at a 9- or 10-year-old boy and almost wringing the shirt she was clutching. That was easy enough to understand without words, "Does it fit him?" I asked her to hand me the shirt and showed her the trick to open the package without ripping it apart. Suddenly the fear in her eyes was gone, replaced by smiling eyes. After that, I helped her to find a different tie than the one she had picked, because it didn't go with the suit she had. Then she started saying a lot of words I didn't understand and patting me on the arm. I knew she meant a very enthusiastic thank you. I was glad I could help her. When I came in to work the next day, I was told there were some "strange" Arabs waiting for an employee in the children's department. The lady had come in again, with her daughter to translate. My boss had guessed she wanted me, and told her when I would be in. They waited for me. Through her daughter, this is what she said. "I have been in this country one month. I find nothing but hostile and danger eyes. I am not a terrorist. My family is not terrorists. You are the only one to see this. You treat me kind, even though I misbehave. I thank you." She gave me a jade green amulet. Her daughter said it is a symbol of humanity. I will treasure it always, as a reminder that we are all just people. Each of us is an individual with our own unique story. Different cultures do not eliminate the humanity in humans. =======Heroic Stories======= >-->From InspiredBuffalo: >Unfortunately, this is more the truth than not.... Dear Loved Ones: * . . . | . * * . \|/ . . -->*<-- . /|\ . ' | ' * | . * . | . ' _ _ .:. . ( | .-. ___ .'_`. WWW \w/ \V/ |/(_)\ .'.-.`. `(_)' (_) (_) (_) |// \\ `/(_)\' // \\ _/ | _/ | _/ | _ _ \/| |/ //)_(\\ \| |/ %%__/| $$__/| &&__/| _-(_)- _-(_)- | | | /(o___))\ | | | | | | | | `(___) `(___) | | | ` / \' | | | | | | | | jgs // \\ // \\ | |_| /_____\ |_| |_| |_| |_| As you well know, we are getting closer to My birthday. Every year there is a celebration in My honor and I think that this year the celebration will be repeated. During this time there are many people shopping for gifts, there are many radio announcements, TV commercials, and in every part of the world everyone is talking that My birthday is getting closer and closer. It is really very nice to know, that at least once a year, some people think of Me. As you know, the celebration of My birthday began many years ago. At first people seemed to understand and be thankful of all that I did for them, but in these times, no one seems to know the reason for the celebration. Family and friends get together and have a lot of fun, but they don't know the meaning of the celebration. I remember that last year there was a great feast in My honor. The dinner table was full of delicious foods, pastries, fruits, assorted nuts and chocolates. The decorations were exquisite and there were many, many beautifully wrapped gifts. But, do you want to know something? I wasn't invited. I was the guest of honor and they didn't remember to send Me an invitation. The party was for Me, but when that great day came, I was left outside, they closed the door in My face...and I wanted to be with them and share their table. In truth, that didn't surprise Me because in the last few years many close their doors to Me. Since I wasn't invited, I decided to enter the party without making any noise. I went in and stood in a corner. They were all drinking; there were some who were drunk and telling jokes and laughing at everything. Then this large man dressed in red wearing a long white beard entered the room with a loud Ho-Ho-Ho! All the children ran to him, saying: "Santa Claus, Santa Claus". as if the party were in his honor! Why did they all know this man, but had no idea who I was? At 12 Midnight all the people began to hug each other; I extended My arms waiting for someone to hug me and do you know no one hugged me. Suddenly they all began to share lavish gifts. They opened them one by one with great expectation. When all had been opened, I looked to see if, maybe, there was one for Me. What would you feel if on your birthday everybody shared gifts and you did not get one? I then understood that I was unwanted at that party and quietly left. Every year it gets worse. People only remember to eat and drink, the gifts, the parties and nobody remembers Me. I would like this Christmas that you allow Me to enter into your life. I would like that you recognize the fact that almost two thousand years ago I came to this world to give My life for you, on the cross, to save you. Today, I only want that you believe this with all your heart. I want to share something with you. Though many didn't invite Me to their party, I am planning My own celebration, a grandiose party that no one has ever imagined, a spectacular party. I'm still making the final arrangements. Today I am sending out many invitations and there is an invitation for you. I want to know if you wish to attend and if you do, I will make a reservation for you and write your name with golden letters in My great guest book. Only those who respond will be admitted to the party. Those who don't answer the invitation...or answer no, will be left outside. Be prepared because when all is ready, you will be part of My great party. It will be ready before you know it. I Love you, Jesus PS: Please share this message with your loved ones before Christmas --- ___ /` __`. ; {.__._} | / (-\-| {}| `-=-( { `-.__/} SANTA / `-..___.'\ | o \ | | o | \ _ ;= \ __o__|, \/ /.--. \ /`}####(\_.'} .--' /\{_/._) \{.-`( {`-.._____.-`}/\_)'. ...I gotta add my two cents to this one. I remember showing Jesus around to all the decorated houses around town (I do it now every year). All the lights I told Him were people showing Him just how much they loved Him and it was in celebration of His up and coming birthday. It was all for Him! When I showed Him these beautiful ligths and decorations, I could tell he was impressed, but then Jesus asked me "Who is that man dressed in red that I see so often?" When explaining Santa to my Lord, I didn't want to say how much a part of His birthday this character really was, so instead, I told him that the kids and people like Santa because he is yummy chocolate. He at first didn't understand, so, I gave him a 'Santa' chocolate. He unwrapped and tasted it. Smiled at me and said "yes, it is good." That's the way I figure Santa and the reindeer and all of them fit in - they just add to the festivities. Santa is not all of it. Also, I always remember to have a cake for my Lord and say Happy Birthday. Even if it really isn't His birthday, it is WHEN we celebrate His Birthday so a cake is a must. What birthday is complete without a cake? :) -<>- >My Savior With Me _..._ .~ `~. / } \ _.'`~~/ {_,} -( ,'-,___.' .-. / |_ /| __| |__ / ` |_/ [__ __] / \ / | | / '--;_ | | _\ `\ | | / |`-.___. / | | ^^^jgs^^^`--`------'`--`^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ My heart no longer beats just for me, It now beats along with yours eagerly. With every step I take, every smile I share, With everyone I love, or show how much I care I no longer do alone, but do along with you, For you are part of me, in everything I do. I am drawn into your love, as I kneel to you in Prayer, The gentleness of your precious love, is beyond compare. My life is ever blessed since being touched by you, Your love is always so perfect, so complete, so true. You send me beauty in crimson sunsets at night, Promises in rainbows, Security in the sparkle of starlight. When I gaze upon your face, it takes my breath away, Your eyes and your smile say, "My love is here to stay." In Your Hands I Rest with Compassion always shown, No more fear of ever facing lifes trials alone. With every trial I face, I need only look inside, You are always within me to comfort and guide. My life I lift up to you, New heights I will now obtain, For it is by giving up myself, freedom I now gain. You give so much more than I can truly understand, Love unconditional, as we walk thru life hand in hand. You are my Shepherd, Teacher, My very best Friend, Oh, My Precious Savior our fellowship will never end. One day you will call me, I will fly and be free, United as one forever, As You created us to be. -<>- >IN THE ARMS OF ANGELS _..._ (,-'-,) / `"""` \ | /_ _\ | .--.\( _ )/.--. / .' '-...-' '. \ | / _/|\_ \ | / | -' \|/ '- | \ by Kathe Campbell / \__..-'-..__/ \ ( / \ ) '-'._/ \_.'-' / \ ( ) jgs \ / `'-._____.-'` On the morning of the Indy 500 I fixed my husband, Ken, a breakfast tray and tended to his bath and medical needs. He was blissfully recuperating at home after two prostate cancer surgeries. It felt wonderful to be free of worries and anxieties after his lengthy ordeal. As ranch foreman, I told him I was going out to beef up Smart Ass' fence, for either a moose or elk had knocked it galley- west during the night. Smart Ass was our 800 lb. jack donkey who, along with three others on our place, had just earned the much coveted National Donkey and Mule "Hall of Fame" award. It was just all in a day's work atop our beloved 7,000 foot Montana acres. Around mid-morning I drove my ATV out and loaded it with supplies, unchained the jack's gate, shut it behind me, and tended to my project. Smart Ass came over for a rub between his ears and then left to savor new sprouts of grass. In an unthinkable flash, he had me brutally covered on the ground, the only exposed parts of my body being my head and right arm. Frenzy overtook me while attempting to free the other arm, but his 800 pounds had me entrapped. I screamed and hollered for what seemed an eternity, even though I knew Ken couldn't hear anything above the roar of Indy race cars. My inside right forearm was being horribly gnawed. The beast then took another attack shredding my face and tearing my ear. Helpless and nearly voiceless, I reconciled to my demise with the same thought spinning around in my head like a broken record. "Oh Dear God, is this how I'm about to meet you?" At some point I worked my left arm free with much trepidation, for the stallion could have very easily torn into that limb as well. With all the strength I could muster, I bellowed in his ear and wrapped a shaky left hand about the end of his nostrils in an attempt to stifle his air. He didn't like that one bit and quickly got up, but not before rendering severe damage to my shoulder and neck with his hoof. And just as suddenly as it all began, this much treasured animal walked away without a bye or leave to resume his graze. There was much speculation as to why our jack went amok that day. This animal had been raised with total loving care and training. He had earned dozens of show and performance awards and was everyone's favorite clown. A cattleman friend surmised he had eaten too much loco weed. Our veterinarian said he had seen stallions bite, but never attack in this manner. Yet, just a week later, another jack attacked his master in a neighboring community. Fortunately he was not hurt, but he, like us, had his animal destroyed. Was Smart Ass a bad seed? Adrenalin and tenacity must have been on a rampage. Somehow I got to my feet, stumbled toward the gate, opened it, and found presence of mind to chain it behind me. While holding the grisly remnants of my arm close to my mid section, a feeling of utter relief swept over me knowing there was a fence between me and "that animal" I had loved so. Mercifully, shock overtook the fury of the morning, for I felt no pain and began cajoling myself into thinking I could steer an even course across our huge expanse of yard. With head reeling and knees buckling, I staggered onto our deck and opened the storm door where I simply ran out of blood and collapsed. Ken heard me crashing into the glass, came to the hallway and calmly called 911 and my neighboring nurse pal. Through blurry eyes I could see him hurrying down the driveway to direct the ambulance. He waited twenty minutes out on our road, unabashedly in his underwear with a catheter dangling for all the world to see. Bless him. Things are sketchy thereafter until a day or two later. My records state a sixty percent blood loss. Pretty serious stuff. I faintly recall beseeching the orthopedist on call not to take my arm off. If my family hadn't intervened, this surgeon would have amputated at the elbow. I didn't improve, for the doctor refused me blood stating it was tainted. Unbelievable and, of course, untrue. What was the matter with this man? Also about this time our oldest daughter, Molly, requested a by-pass, that is, harvesting a healthy vein from my leg to detour the crush. It's a common procedure, but the doctor declined, persuading us that it wouldn't work. On the third day my fingers were losing their color and the family insisted on a second opinion. The doctor rejected the idea, arrogantly maintaining that he was the best there is. The war was on! One of the concerned nurses called Molly at home encouraging her to have me transferred and giving her the names of several surgeons. Mol made arrangements to have me airlifted to Deaconess Medical Center where there are arm and hand specialists. My angel was on top of the crisis. Of course, there had to be one incredible last straw. The local doctor refused the airlift, even though the Deaconess surgeon felt every hour was crucial for a successful outcome. Our son, Tim, was the under sheriff in a neighboring county. He and his wife and our other daughter, Katie, accompanied me as paramedics. With front seat reclined and my temperature rapidly fluctuating, the road trip in Tim's big SUV was ghastly. Not even one aspirin was offered for the four-hour journey. The girls later remarked they didn't think I would survive the trip, but Tim slapped his red light atop the car and single-mindedly trimmed the time to three hours. I only vaguely recall that my darling angels were solemn and steadfast in their mission. Molly remained behind to take care of the business while Ken was encouraged to go home and rest, for I would be needing him sooner than later. My dear husband really never had a chance to recover in comfort from his own surgery. We arrived at Deaconess amid a gala open house for their board, patrons, and staff, celebrating a beautiful new wing and reception area. Stares of disbelief followed our little entourage as my angels rolled my bedraggled remains through the lobby in a stained hospital gown, ratty old blanket, and bare feet. If I hadn't been so sick I would have surely died of humiliation. Nonetheless, even though I was short of blood and my head was elsewhere, I'll never forget emerging from the elevator into a posh receiving area adjacent to luxurious private orthopedic suites. Just the flurry of activity and kindness made me feel so welcome, I was reduced to tears for the first time. "More guardian angels," I pondered quietly while the nurses helped me don a gown more befitting my new environment. Dr. Settergren arrived immediately, examined my arm, and ordered x- rays and plasma. Katie asked about a by-pass and he looked stunned. "Of course," he replied, "that's what I do for a living!" He patted her hand reassuringly and rushed off to study x-rays. She smiled for the first time in days. Later that evening the by-pass was performed. We all had expectations for a miracle, even though some of my fingers had begun to turn black. The next weeks consisted of a dozen or so debridement surgeries, daily therapies, visits from psychologists, prosthesis personnel, and my blessed Salvation Army Captains. There was a persistent thumbs-up attitude from my family, even though I was losing one finger at a time. Each day I assessed my options feeling that three, or even two fingers, would serve me well, but it wasn't to be. Ken and Katie never left my side and were my strength right up to, and after my arm was at last amputated several inches above the wrist. I think we all knew it was inevitable. Excessive delays caused by the narcissistic doctor on call had closed the window of opportunity forever. In the aftermath I spent a good deal of time grieving over my loss. What's left is so ugly, and yet I am forever grateful to Dr. Settergren for making the by-pass work at mid-arm. I also spent time grieving for all the things I felt I would never do again, or so I surmised. Keeping books and typing 120 wpm in our office for years. My oil paintings and needlework that had garnered "best of show." My free lance writing that had just produced my first big check. How was I going to play bridge and pinochle with our regular gang? Will friends be uncomfortable around me? How will my clothes look with a big ol' hook hanging out? And what about my hair? All these things proved so superficial, because all of a sudden the grandkids were calling me, "Granny Hook." I dearly loved it. Last year I took hook in hook, so to speak, and have now crocheted several sweaters. My neighbor pals took me in tow one day and announced, "Okay, Kath, enough is enough, we're going to play bridge today!" And we did . . . and I did . . . and I beat their pants off. God must look out for old broads like me, because during the .-""-. _______ .-""-. .'_.-. | ,*********, | .-._'. / _/ / **` `** \ \_ \ /.--.' | | **,;;;;;,** | | '.--.\ / .-`-| | ;//;/;/;\\; | |-`-. \ ;.--': | | /;/;/;//\\;\\ | | :'--.; | _\.'-| | ((;(/;/; \;\);) | |-'./_ | ;_.-'/: | | );)) _ _ (;(( | | :\'-._; | | _:-'\ \(((( \ );))/ /'-:_ | | ; .:` '._ \ );))\ " /(((( / _.' `:. ; |-` '-.;_ `-\(;(;((\ = /););))/-` _;.-' `-| ; / .'\ |`'\ );));)/`---`\((;(((./`'| /'. \ ; | .' / `'.\-((((((\ /))));) \.'` \ '. | ;/ /\_/-`-/ ););)| , |;(;(( \` -\_/\ \; |.' .| `;/ (;(|'==/|\=='|);) \;` |. '.| | / \.'/ / _.` | `._ \ \'./ \ | \| ; |; _,.-` \_/Y\_/ `-.,_ ;| ; |/ \ | ;| ` | | | ` |. | / `\ || | | | || /` jgs `:_\ _\/ \/_ /_:' `"----""` `""----"` first year after all those surgeries, my hair began to come in naturally curly and the casual look has kept me from becoming a panty hose recluse. Tim built me a computer, put me on the internet, and tutored me ever so carefully. I have renewed old friendships and laugh and scratch with relatives we haven't seen in years. I still manage to keep a great house, even though many of my culinary concoctions still land on the floor. And yes, I cry. But, in-between I continue to feed my soul on our mountain and thank God every day for my life. Ken recovered nicely, but now, both our early seventies miseries have emerged in the form of rheumatoid arthritis and, of course, my wretched phantom pain. Although the doctor was found guilty of mal-practice and thankfully no longer practices medicine, the jury did not award us even one thin dime. Our devastation was appealed without success. So we take our lumps in life and go on. We continue to be active in our business, for lawsuits and pharmacy bills are out of sight. We play with and ride our remaining geldings, and I've learned to ride farm and play toys with a left-hand throttle. We also talk about Smart Ass often, recalling his great days and wishing we knew what was going on in his head that ill-fated morning. On the brighter side, the grandkids think I'm a terrific candidate for "show and tell" with my numerous prostheses. Who'd have ever thunk it! Kathe Campbell bigskyadj@in-tch.com Copyright 2002 Kathe Campbell ---------- Kathe and her husband, Ken, llive on a 7000 foot mountain near Butte, Montana where they have raised national champion spotted asses. The Campbells have three grown children and 11 grandchildren. Kathe has contributed to newspapers, as well as national magazines on the subject of Alzheimer's disease. -<>- Links For Your Enjoyment: America's Funniest http://www.buffalosjokes.com/1180607.htm 2005 Armor http://www.buffalosjokes.com/21701.htm 2216 http://www.buffalosjokes.com/21602.htm 2481 http://www.buffalosjokes.com/21703.htm To subscribe from this group, send an email to: the-inspired-buffalo-subscribe@yahoogroups.com ================================================================== >-->From SermondFodder: .""--.._ [] `'--.._ ||__ `'-, `)||_ ```'--.. \ _ /|//} ``--._ | .'` `'. /////} `\/ / .""".\ //{/// / /_ _`\\ // `|| | |(_)(_)|| _// || | | /\ )| _///\ || | |L====J | / |/ | || / /'-..-' / .'` \ | || / | :: | |_.-` | \ || /| `\-::.| | \ | || /` `| / | | | / || |` \ | / / \ | || | `\_| |/ ,.__. \ | || Sometimes we wonder, "What did I do to deserve this?" or "Why did God have to do this to me?" Here is a wonderful explanation! A daughter is telling her Mother how everything is going wrong, she's failing algebra, her boyfriend broke up with her and her best friend is moving away. Meanwhile, her Mother is baking a cake and asks her daughter if she would like a snack, and the daughter says, "Absolutely Mom, I love your cake." "Here, have some cooking oil," her Mother offers. "Yuck" says her daughter. "How about a couple raw eggs?" "Gross, Mom!" "Would you like some flour then? Or maybe baking soda?" "Mom, those are all yucky!" To which the mother replies: "Yes, all those things seem bad all by themselves. But when they are put together in the right way, they make a wonderfully delicious cake! God works the same way. Many times we wonder why He would let us go through such bad and difficult times. But God knows that when He puts these things all in His order, they always work for good! We just have to trust Him and, eventually, they will all make something wonderful! _ === _ / \(_)/ \ | / \ | God is crazy about you. | \\ // | \_/ \_/ .--" / \ `"-. ( ( '.___.' ,') (__,-. )--' jgs '.____)--' He sends you flowers every spring and a sunrise every morning. Whenever you want to talk, He'll listen. He can live anywhere in the universe, and He chose your heart and will live there if you will only ask Jesus into your heart. I hope your day is a "piece of cake!" Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance. Thanks to "Ffranchina""Ffranchina" for today's Illustration. -<>- >"INFORMATION PLEASE" .-"-. / 4 4 \ \_ v _/ // \\ (( )) =======""===""======= jgs ||| '|' When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person - her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anybody's number and the correct time. My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway - the telephone! Quickly I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information Please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information." "I hurt my finger . . ." I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience. "Isn't your mother home?" came the question. "Nobody's home but me." I blubbered. "Are you bleeding?" "No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts." "Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger." After that I called Information Please for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math, and she told me my pet chipmunk I had caught in the park just the day before would eat fruits and nuts. And there was the time that Petey, our pet canary, died. I called Information Please and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers, feet up on the bottom of a cage? She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better. All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. Then when I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. Information Please belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the hall table. Yet as I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me; often in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy. A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between planes, and I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please." Miraculously, I heard again the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information." I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could you tell me, please, how to spell fix?" There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess that your finger must have healed by now." I laughed, "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time." "I wonder," she said, "if you know how much YOUR calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls." I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. "Please do, anytime, just ask for Sally." Only three months later I was back in Seattle. . . a different voice answered Information and I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" "Yes, a very old friend." "Then I'm sorry to have to tell you. Sally has been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago." But before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?" "Yes." "Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down. Here it is I'll read it 'Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean'." I thanked her and hung up. I did know what Sally meant. Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today? The Christian Challenge and Blessing Email Service. To subscribe to this free service send a message with "subscribe" in the subject field to liverite@charter.net. ======================================================================= >-->From Petwarmers: .0. / \ ; \_/ ; | | | | | | _______; ;_______ `======='\ /`=======` \ / _ | | _ _( \____|=|____/ )_ ( .---. .---. ) `-' / \ '-' / HUG \ ; ; | .---.|__, jgs : / :--' .--\ \ | `" `"".-' < =""` `"== `""""""` =""` `"""===="""` =""` `""==="""` >HER HERO by Ginger Boda "But I need your help, NOW! This is an emergency, operator. I tell you, my puppy is choking! PLEASE HELP ME!" I had screamed at the top of my lungs to find only a calm voice at the other end of the line, informing me to, "Call your local vet and see what they can do." But I was desperate. My little Tazzy was not going to make it! I couldn't believe it. I had seen 911 calls for trapped and desperate dogs on TV before. Why wouldn't they help? Panic set in. Taz was only 4 weeks old, born New Year's Eve and already chewing everything she could get her paws on. Thus, we had named her Tazzy -- short for Tasmanian Devil. The newest addition to our family, she was the cutest black Chow we'd ever seen. Babies need extra attention and with a family of five humans, Tazzy got it. We made sure she had a warm indoor bed, lots of love, toys, and of course puppy food. She was a tenacious little eater. We'd watch her, with laughter, making jokes as to how she'd "chow down" on her supper. It was Saturday afternoon and Tazzy just couldn't seem to get her food down fast enough. Her spot for replenishment, near the sliding glass door off the kitchen, was her favorite place to be. The sun was glimmering on her fluffy black hair. She was the picture of contentment. The scene changed abruptly when I noticed that her feasting had halted and her itty-bitty head began to jerk up and down. Concerned, I ran to check her out. The fright in her eyes was unmistakable. She was choking on her puppy food! I yelled for my husband to come immediately, screaming, "Help me Mark! Taz can't breathe! She's choking!" Mark hurried into the kitchen and grabbed her feeble frame out of my hands, attempting to do a sort of canine Heimlich maneuver. It wasn't working. She just dangled limply, seeming to lose consciousness. Taz was going to die right in front of our eyes! "Oh no! I have to call for help," I was screaming hysterically as I felt the minutes racing by. My three kids ran into the room to find out what was happening and stood in fear, watching. The operator relayed the same message to me again, as I proceeded to beg her, with loud sobs, "Please get someone quickly, before my puppy dies? Send the paramedics, NOW!" Then all of a sudden, like a scene out of Dances with Wolves, there came my neighbor, flying over the 5-foot wooden fence that separated our home from his. Steve landed on the side patio in one fell swoop, throwing the sliding glass door as if he were announcing, "Help is on the way!" In seconds, he was on our kitchen floor and had grabbed Tazzy from Mark's hands. Holding her head gently, he began performing "Mouth to Snout" resuscitation on our lifeless puppy. Mark backed away, and the phone dropped from my hands as I stared through tear-filled eyes. Steve released his mouth and then repeated the procedure again, only blowing much harder this time. You could hear a pin drop there in our midst. Tazzy's small body began to move slowly. And no sooner had Steve backed off when she coughed up two little pieces of puppy kernels. My mouth dropped as the food went flying across the floor. Her dark black eyes opened slowly and she gazed up at Steve like a damsel in distress would look upon her hero. We all ran to a huddle next to them -- hugging and thanking him for saving her life. Tazzy was a weak and dazed little puppy after the ordeal she'd gone through. The emergency veterinarian assessed and released her, warning us that pneumonia may set in, having had such a powerful burst of air forced into her lungs. The doctor was still shaking her head at the story we'd told her, as we drove away with our little bundle of New Year's Eve, sleeping soundly. I was told later that our neighbors thought Mark was having a heart attack when they heard me screaming out his name. Steve heard me too, but he responded without question or pause, becoming the rescuer of the year His reply to that was simply, "Ah, heck, what are neighbors for, anyway?" Well, his neighboring was above and beyond the call of duty, I'd say. If our nine-year old Tazzy could tell you her side of the story, she'd agree completely. And Steve knew exactly how she felt. Because every time she saw "her hero" after that memorable day, she'd give him a big ole' grateful lick, smack on his kisser. -- Ginger Boda ____________________________________________ Ginger is a contributor to various online publications, weaving faith, traditions, and humor into her stories. Petwarmers first published her story, Birthday Flower Attack. She lives in Southern California with her husband, Mark, and three grown children -- Jason, Danny and Alisha. Tazzy is still the proverbial baby of the family. ======================================================================= Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 30 feet tall. -- Larry Wilde, The Merry Book of Christtmas At Christmas play and make good cheer, For Christmas comes but once a year. -- Thomas Tusse >--->UPDATED FUN URLS - You Betcha :) Shangy! ----------------------------------------------------------- http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/urls.html Fun Urls ---- If You Haven't Joined The Shangy Fun List Yet - What Ya Waiting For? Send a Blank email here to: ShangyFunList-subscribe@yahoogroups.com -----------------------------------------------------------