Stories For A Hot Summer ... :) Shangy! >-->Hot Off The 'Shangy' Press :) This one is fun! It comes inspired via a forward to us from our friend Becky... _ _ (.)_(.) _ ( _ ) _ FROG / \/`-----'\/ \ __\ ( ( ) ) /__ ) /\ \._./ /\ ( jgs )_/ /|\ /|\ \_( Visit Here for Your Frog: http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/frog.html ...THANKS BECKY! =================================================================== >-->AN ALERT From The Emergency Email Network: >Health Alert: Excessive Lead Warning :Toys from China recall 8-02-2007 USPSC issues nationwide warning of approximately 1 million toys made in China with excessive lead. Extensive list and types: http://www.emergencyemail.org/newsemergency/anmviewer.asp?a=228&z=1 THE EMERGENCY EMAIL & WIRELESS NETWORK http://www.emergencyemail.org ==================================================================== >-->From our friends at CES :) Hello and God bless you! We thought you would be blessed to read and listen to a teaching on the benefits of thanks-living. The goal of this article (and audio teaching) is to motivate you to make every day of the year one of thanks-living. Thankfulness is often heard in Christian circles. In fact, the theme of thankfulness is something that should be central to our daily Christian practice. At the beginning of the article is a link to our audio teaching on the same subject. All you have to do is click on the link to hear the teaching - free of charge. To read / listen to this teaching, click or cut and paste the link into your address bar: http://www.truthortradition.com/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=606 And, if you have a computer, you can listen to our free Podcast. You don't need an iPod. www.STFonline.org/podcast Have a great day with God's blessing! The Home Office Staff Spirit and Truth Fellowship International 1-888-255-6189, M-F, 8:30 - 5 (EST) ================================================================= | [ | v': : | |_,;c | ] |/; |, | | [ ( __,/ | ,-'/ ;\ ,< _',\.-._,; | ] | n | -' / _;'; '=_'-' ,) ,\ | ,; | ] / \,'__/--,_,-- 'mm'J -"_ ] '-,+_ | / / "''-.,;"---''--'"" \ ] __ "-' ;' [ / : : _c / / ",_,' | [ | v| , '/ c c \ | \ ] | \ /| : __,-,v;|] . \| [ /"--'/ | (7_ c@ ) )/| \ ] ,-"'<': '--, ( /^ | | ] / : '| \ | ) | | | / | | ;,-;, \ ,)( ]| | \^ | | : |\ ,' \ / \ [ | | ? / \_ | /|: | , \ | | | ('. "--' |:, ; :\ ,\ [| | ;\~) _ \_) ',_| , | ), \_ : | |/ [ /""-,_ '-'( /.' | \ | '-_ | [ | | "---,__"'=';=,_ | \ /|\ '"-,__ | ] | : | ""'^.\ | | | \ | [ ]| | : | ] \ \ / _AsH >Respite from the Middle School Jungle Story Editor: by Jennifer Schrader Joyce Schowalter Missouri, USA These days we hear stories about the hazing and cruelty that can exist between kids in middle school. But when I was there in the late seventies, such things were never discussed. A clique of about five girls had it in for me; they would literally wait outside the door to my classes to accost me, taunting me to get a reaction. I was a nerd, and my responses, when I dared to retort, were graceless. Seventh grade was one long year of torment; every day the girls found me somewhere, cornered me and called me names. It never occurred to me to get parental help, but it was easily the worst year of my life. When I entered eighth grade I was afraid. My fears were realized when the same bunch of girls, with new additions, started harassing me again. I struggled on. A few weeks into the year, I noticed that one of the new girls, "Darlene," now led the clique. I didn't know her and never noticed her around when I was attacked, but I feared her. One day, the girls cornered me again, I got angry and yelled insults back, whatever nasty words came to mind. It was an incident like a hundred others, forgotten it by the time I got to gym class. But suddenly I was alone in the locker room with Darlene advancing on me with her jaw set. She confronted me angrily, saying I had insulted her friends, and must answer to her. It was too much for me. I started to half cry, half protest, wailing that they had insulted me first, that they did so all the time, that I was just trying to defend myself. Darlene listened in silence, and when I was done, she said something that changed my life. She said simply, "I didn't realize that. I'm sorry; I'll talk to them." She must have, because they never, from that moment on, picked on me again. What Darlene changed for me, more than anything, was my understanding of my enemies. The notion that they were people, that they could possibly be reasoned with, that they might be kinder to me if I showed them my own humanity and not only my defensive thorns shook my whole understanding of the world. Darlene caused me to believe that strangers might bring something good, and that life is lived best in that hope. She helped me notice that I, too, had been cruel, even though only in defense, and that it was not the best choice. Darlene and I didn't become friends. But I believe she changed me more than almost anyone else through that one compassionate, sensible act. And she gave me a sense of what character and integrity can mean even in the heart of the middle school jungle. ----------==========----------o----------==========---------- Our HeroicStories Summer 2007 Fundraiser Has Begun! A Message from our Treasurer Is Below. Please join in: http://www.heroicstories.com/fundraiser2007.html ----------==========----------o----------==========---------- =======HeroicStories======= >A Light In The Darkness ,~~;,~~.~~, (`'` ` ` `, ~~``` ` ` ; |@ , @ | , '; ' ( ' ` ; `._o__/^;' '; ;..' ';.` ; . ' * _ ;.;)_____ . _- \____/ ) )_____ )’ _- __-- \_____/ |-_ -_:-._- __-- ___ |______| --_/:::\_-- _-- / , \---=|:::::|=---------- | , \ __-\:::/-__ -__ / ; | _- | -_sd--__ --- | , |_- . | . -_ --__ / ; | ‘ | ‘ -_ | , ; | ‘ | ‘ - / ; | |__'___^^_______^^ ~~ ^^ -- Author Unknown A shiver ran through me I wasn't dressed warmly enough for the damp, night air I sat huddled on the little wooden bench down by the lake. It was an especially dark night, with no moon to reflect upon the still water. Only a few stars flickered between clouds. Shivering again, I tucked my legs up under me. I wasn't sure if the chill was from the cold air or from the despair in my heart. My problem seemed so much bigger than I was, Our dearly loved teenage son had run away from home. My cheeks were streaked with tears. I had no concept of how long I had been sitting there, crying out to the Lord. "Please reveal yourself to me. I need to feel you near. I need evidence of your presence." The pine trees rustled gently overhead, moved by an unseen breeze. How I longed for a visible sign, a rustling of his presence, a soft breeze of the Holy Spirit. "Please Lord, just a special little light up in the dark pines then I will know that you are here and that you care." Darkness prevailed. The lake lapped quietly against a piece of rock. I felt someone approach, lovingly, my other son placed a jacket around my shoulders and then quietly slipped away. Soon, one by one, the house lights went out, and the darkness intensified. I was surrounded by quiet dark and I felt so alone. Finally, cold and discouraged. I uncurled myself from the bench and giving a last longing look over my shoulders up into the pines I climbed the hill and crawled into bed. Morning arrived all too soon. I was emotionally exhausted. I stumbled into the kitchen going through the motions of fixing breakfast and getting the children off to school. With a heavy heart I began to straighten the house once again asking the Lord to reveal himself. I was beginning to make the bed, when the phone rang, I heard the familiar voice of a friend say, " I just wanted you to know I Love you and am praying for you." A few minutes later, the phone rang again, " I just wanted to let you know that you have been on my mind lately, Are you alright?" The caller assured me of her love and prayers. All during the day, in phone call after phone call, loving friends offered love, concern and support. That evening, two friends called to say they were coming over to pray with us. Suddenly I realized the Lord had revealed Himself to me . . . again and again . . . all day long . . . lovingly and tenderly. I was looking for a light in my darkness and He sent more than one. I asked Him to reveal Himself and His love to me in a special way. And He did. Not through night whispers, mysterious rustlings, or glimmers in the treetops, but in a way that I could feel. Through His people. Humbly I bowed my head, thank you Lord. "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ" (Galatians 6:2). =======HeartWarming======= >-->A Classic from our friend John-Paul :) ____ | | \ | | \________ _|_|____________) /| / | __________) ||__ /____|,' ________| |/_/| _|_______,' )( | | :|)( ejm )( )( >The Concert When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, The mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing. Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle,Twinkle Little Star." At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, "Don't quit.""Keep playing." Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obbligato. Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience. The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic,"Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." Perhaps that's the way it is with God. What ever we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful. The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, "Don't quit." "Keep playing." May you feel His arms around you and know that His hands are there, helping you. Turning your feeble attempts into true masterpieces. Remember, God doesn't seem to call the equipped, rather, He equips the 'called.' Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than by the things you acquire. May God bless you and be with you always! Just remember; "Don't quit." "Keep playing.", With~the~Love~Of~Jesus~~~~John-Paul --- ...Nice! Thanks John-Paul! ======================================================================= >-->From Heartwarmers: 8 8 8 \ 8 \ 8 8 8\, ___ ,/8 \ 8 \\//"\\// 8 8 \('_')/ 8 (8'---`-'---'8) 8`"-. .-"`8 8###|===\###8 jgs #####\ \ \### \ \ \ \()() >STORIES FROM A PORCH SWING by Diane Dean White I always looked forward to vacations with my grandparents and the simple things were a special time for me. They had an old black telephone that had a party line. It was considered a "Party Line" because other neighbors also used the same line from their home to make phone calls. One could get some interesting information if they were so inclined, but we were too busy making cookies, donuts and other neat things to care about telephone gossip. My grandparent's home didn't have a computer. Rather a piano was a fond source of entertainment. An old television was acquired in later years, but a tall standing radio unit that grandpa turned on for the Tiger baseball game each day took up residence in the front hallway. My grandparents were retired by the time I came along and as a daily ritual Grandpa took a walk down to the basement to check the coal bin. It wasn't used in the summer, but he wanted a supply in case heat was needed. More often than not, a fireplace supplied the warmth for an evening chill and windows were opened daily for the fresh breeze to cool off the Michigan summer days. Grandma was an early riser each morning and after doing a load of laundry and hanging it outside to dry on the lines, she would start breakfast. I don't remember box cereal, but rather oatmeal and eggs, toast or muffins and some meat and juice. A large dining room that had been used by my dad and his siblings for years, continued to serve my grandparents as well. I don't recall ever seeing Grandma in anything but a nicely ironed dress, often with an apron and her black "granny" shoes. I don't know how else to describe them -- they were plump and fat with laces and looked terribly uncomfortable, but she said the doctor told her to wear them. She had another pair for Sundays. Her hair was always neat and orderly, and yet I don't think she went to a hair dresser. She pinned it up and wore a net around it at home. We washed the dishes together and if I dropped a utensil she would tell me someone was coming to visit. It was an old saying -- a knife meant a man was calling, a spoon meant a woman caller and a fork met a couple. So, I purposely dropped a knife, and she would smile at me and tell me someone special was coming to call. All day I'd look for him and when the young man bringing their groceries from the store showed up I thought it was magic! It seemed like mornings were always so busy and often a neighbor would stop in for a brief visit. As soon as the noon whistle would blow, Grandma got another meal ready. After folding the laundry and making preparations for the dinner meal we would go out on the porch swing and sit and talk. She would tell me about the days when my dad was growing up and then about her own life as a young girl. How much I enjoyed our talks and the stories Grandma would share. A fun time of entertainment was in the evening when Grandma would sit at the piano and play some special songs. Grandpa didn't sing along, he smoked his pipe and just enjoyed her playing, but the songs she played weren't part of the top ten hits that the radio stations played. They were older songs and fun songs. "Seeing Nellie Home" and "Put on Your Old Gray Bonnet" were two of my favorites. I know kids today don't have these experiences and I think it's a shame. In many cases children are being robbed of their childhood, and although technology is a wonderful world in progress, there is so much more that life has to offer. I can't imagine having a cell phone chained to me and interrupting a conversation on the front porch with Grandma, because you can never replace a moment once it is gone. I'm grateful those moments with my grandparents turned into a storehouse of memories for me -- an avalanche consisting of sharing chores, making donuts, singing with Grandma at the piano, old starched aprons, those big black shoes and... stories from a porch swing. -- Diane Dean White ___________________________________________ Diane is a freelance writer, weekly columnist and author of two books. She is a contributor to Chicken Soup and a number of other magazines, books and websites. She is the editor of HeartCatchers, a weekly mailing. Diane and Steve are the parents of three grown children and three grandgals. They make their home on the Carolina Coast. You may visit her website at: http://www.DianeDeanWhite.com ___________________________________________ >A CURIOUS HEARTWARMERS ENCOUNTER by Roger Dean Kiser Still half asleep, I was sitting at my office desk on Saturday morning waiting for my computer to load. With closed eyes, I yawned, pushed back in my chair and began trying to focus my mind on getting the proper paperwork together so that my daughter could fly in from Canada to visit with me. Just as I sat forward the telephone rang. "Helloo," I said, with another long yawn. "Is this Mr. Roger Dean Kiser?" asked a faint, somewhat shaky female voice. "Speaking," I replied. "This is Sara and I would like to ask a personal favor of you." "How can I help you?" "From the information I have, and from what I see here on the map, you live in Brunswick, Georgia." "Yes ma'am, that's correct." "How far is Brunswick, Georgia, from the Jacksonville International Airport?" "About forty-five minutes, give or take fifteen minutes." "This afternoon, at about one o'clock, I will be flying to Miami and stopping in Jacksonville, Florida. Would you consider meeting me at the airport about noon and signing my book?" I sat there silently wondering what was actually happening and who this woman was. Not wanting to be rude, I didn't want to begin questioning her. "I will gladly pay you for your time and effort." "The Jacksonville Airport is a large facility. If I drive down how will I know where you are and who you are?" "Oh, I'll recognize you." "How will you recognize me?" "My husband and I have a picture of you at home. You are one of our favorite authors. I'll be the only woman wearing a red hat from the late fifties," she said, as she laughed. As my head began to swell (just a bit) I hung up after agreeing that I would meet her at the Delta Airlines Counter about twelve noon. I arrived at the airport several minutes after twelve. After parking, I walked to the Delta desk, and asked the attendant if she had seen a woman in a red hat. With a strange look on her face, she raised her hand and pointed behind me. When I turned around there stood a woman, about seventy-five or eighty, behind her stood two unfriendly looking men wearing black suits and sunglasses. "You are a lot older than I thought," she replied. "You are a lot younger than I thought," I told her. "Don't be coy, young man. I am too old for that type nonsense," she said, as she laughed without opening her mouth. I stood there watching her as she began rambling through her shoulder bag, finally pulling out a copy of a Heartwarmers book. I was rather surprised, as I was expecting her to pull out a copy of my book, Orphan. "Would you sign this for me, please sir?" I reached out, took the book and placed it against the wall. I looked in her direction and stood there waiting. "To Sara, if you don't mind," she said, nodding her head forward. I looked at the two men who were still standing behind her in an almost military stance. "Do those two fellows ever smile?" I asked. "I've never seen it," she replied. After signing her book, I handed it back to her. "Have you ever read any of my books?" I questioned. "Well, of course." "Oh, I almost forgot. Take this," she said, as she reached into her purse and pulled out a large bill. "That's not necessary." "Oh, yes it is," she replied, as she reached out and jiggled my cheek with a pinch of her fingers, while stuffing the bill into my shirt pocket. She smiled, turned and motioned her head at the two men as they allowed her to walk between them. After she passed, they closed ranks and the three of them began walking away, the men trailing several paces behind her. I stood watching as they headed toward the concourse. "Say hi to the good life in sunny Miami for me," I mumbled, in somewhat of a loud tone. Without turning around, she raised her hand high into the air and the three of them disappeared down the long corridor. -- Roger Dean Kiser ___________________________________________ You can review Roger's fascinating books and CDs at this website: http://www.geocities.com/trampolineone/survive/srv080.htm ================================================================= >-->From Our Friend Betty :) _ /`> / > /`> _____/ / / /`> /____/ / / / /`> /====/ / / / / / / .> (_) < < < < (__ \ \ \ \ \ \ |__ \ \ \ \ \_> |___ \ \ \ \_> \ ( \_> \_> jgs \_> >The Cherokee father Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youth's rite of passage? His father takes him into the forest, blindfolds him and leaves him alone. He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not remove the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it. He cannot cry out for help to anyone. Once he survives the night, he is a MAN. He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each lad must come into manhood on his own. The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him. Maybe even some human might do him harm. The wind blew the grass and earth, and shook his stump, but he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold. It would be the only way he could become a man! Finally, after a horrific night the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold. It was then that he discovered his father sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm. We, too, are never alone. Even when we don't know it, our Heavenly Father is watching over us, sitting on the stump beside us. When trouble comes, all we have to do is reach out to Him. If you liked this story, pass it on. --- ...Wonderful! Thanks Betty! ======================================================================= >-->From InspiredBuffalo: >Moses Gets a Computer __ __ / \ /| |'-. .\__/ || | | _ / `._ \|_|_.-' | / \__.`=._) (_ |/ ._/ |"""""""""| |'. `\ | | ;"""/ / | | jgs ) /_/| |.-------.| ' `-`' " " "Excuse me, Sir." "Is that you again, Moses?" "I'm afraid it is, Sir." "What is it this time, Moses. More computer problems?" "How did you guess?" "I don't have to guess, Moses. Remember?" "Oh, yeah. I forgot." "Tell me what you want, Moses." "But you already know. Remember?" "Moses!" "Sorry, Sir." "Well, go ahead, Moses. Spit it out." "Well, I have a question, Sir. You know those 'ten things' you sent me?" "You mean the Commandments, Moses?" "That's it. I was wondering if they were important." "What do you mean 'were important,' Moses? Of course, they're Important. Otherwise I wouldn't have sent them to you." "Well, sorry, but I lost them. I could say the dog ate them, but of Course you would see right through that." "What do you mean 'you lost them'? Are you trying to tell me you Didn't save them, Moses?" "No, Sir. I forgot." "You should always save, Moses." "Yeah, I know. You told me that before. I was going to, but I forgot. I did send them to some people before I lost them though." "And did you hear back from any of them?" "You already know I did. What about the one guy who said he never uses Shalt not'? Can he change the words a little bit?" "Yes, Moses. As long as he doesn't change the meaning." "And what about the guy who thought your stance was a little harsh, And recommended calling them the 'Ten Suggestions,' or letting people Pick one or two to try for a while?" "Moses, I'll act like I didn't hear that." "I think that means 'no.' Well, what about the guy who said I was scamming him?" "I think the term is 'spamming,' Moses." "Oh, yeah. I E-mailed him back and told him I don't even eat that Stuff, and I have no idea how you can send it to someone through a computer." "And what did he say?" "You know what he said. He used Your name in vain. You don't think he Might have sent me one of those -- ER -- plagues, and that's the reason I Lost those ten things, do you?" "They're called 'viruses,' Moses." "Whatever! This computer stuff is just too much for me. Can we just go Back to those stone tablets? It was hard on my back taking them out and Reading them each day, but at least I never lost them." "We'll do it the new way, Moses." "I was afraid you would say that, Sir." "Moses, what did I tell you to do if you messed up?" "You told me to hold up this rat and stretch it out toward the computer." "It's a mouse, Moses. Mouse! Mouse! And did you do that?" "No, I decided to try the technical support first. After all, who Knows more about this stuff than you, and I really like your hours. By The way, Sir, did Noah have two of these mice on the ark?" "No, Moses." _,,,,_ ,########, ,##` `##, ## ## ## ## /# (.)(.) #\ \# _) #/ #,######,# ##, ~~ ,## '########' jgs `######` "One other thing. Why didn't you name them 'frogs' instead of 'mice,' Because didn't you tell me the thing they sit on is a pad?" "I didn't name them, Moses. Man did, and you can call yours a frog if You want to." "Oh, that explains it. Kind of like Adam, huh, sir? I bet some woman Told him to call it a mouse. After all, wasn't it a woman who named one Of the computers Apple?" "Say good night, Moses." "Wait a minute, sir. I am stretching out the mouse, and it seems to be Working. Yes, a couple of the 'ten things' have come back." "Which ones are they, Moses?" "Let's see. .'Thou shalt not steal from any grave and image' And....... Thou shalt not uncover thy neighbor's wife.'" "Turn the computer off, Moses. I'm sending you another .========. .========. // I .'..' \ // VI.'.,".\ || II .'..'| || VII..'..| || III .'."| || VIII,'.'| || IV ,','.| || IX.'".'.| || V '..'.'| || X .'..',| jgs .\_________/ .\_________/ set of stone tablets. -<**>- | | *tock* | | *tock* | <-*) | |(() | |"/ | |' PhS >SIMPLE NOT EASY - By: Joseph J. Mazzella Shortly after our first home burned down when I was a boy we moved into a small house near the top of a mountain. The entire house was heated by a single, wood stove. My dad, brothers, and I spent days every Spring and Summer cutting and stacking the wood for it. It worked great as long as the wood wasn't wet. A lot of the time, however, this wasn't the case. Snowy and rainy days meant wet wood, a weak fire, and a cool house. It wasn't long then before my Dad decided that we needed to build a wood shed. ______ .-"""".._'. _,## _..__ |.-"""-.| | _,##'`-._ (_____)||_____|| |_,##'`-._,##'` _| |.;-""-. | |#'`-._,##'` _.;_ `--' `\ \ |.'`\._,##'` /.-.\ `\ |.-";.`_, |##'` |\__/ | _..;__ |'-' / '.____.'_.-`)\--' /'-'` //||\\(_.-'_,'-'` (`-...-')_,##'` jgs _,##`-..,-;##` _,##'`-._,##'` _,##'`-._,##'` `-._,##'` I can still remember the day we started it. Dad had me and my brother climb into the pick-up truck after school. A local railroad company had pulled up some unused track and was giving away the wooden ties that went with it. Dad wanted to use 4 of these ties as the corner posts for the new building. It seemed simple enough at the time. All we had to do was load them up, take them home, dig some holes, and set them in the ground. What I didn't realize was that each railroad tie weighed almost 500 pounds. I never worked so hard or strained so much in my life. I went to bed that night exhausted and had sore muscles for a week afterward. Yes, it was a simple job, but it surely wasn't an easy one. Living in love, joy, and oneness with God is simple too, but sometimes it isn't easy. It is a choice that we have to make every single day of our lives. We often have to give love in the face of hate and share joy in the face of despair. Easy or not, though, it is still worth the effort. Loving God, loving ourselves, and loving others is what we were meant for. Nothing is better for us or feels better to us. When we work for love, we work for God, and when we work for God we will always have joy. Work hard at the simple life of love then. Even if you do run into some heavy lifting at times God will always be at the other end ready to help you. -<,,>- >GROWING TOGETHER -Authir Unknown to Me __ __ {_/ \_}\\ _ _\(_)_ (_)_)(_)_ (_)(_)_)(_) (_)(_))_) (_(_(_) (_)_) jgs (_) Once upon a time there was a little grape stem. She was so glad to be alive. She drank water and minerals from the soil and grew and grew. She was young and strong and could manage quite well... All by Herself But the wind was cruel, the rain was harsh, and the snow was not one bit understanding. The little grape stem experienced pain. She drooped, weak and suffering. "It would be so easy to stop trying to grow, To stop trying to live," thought the little stem. She felt poorly. The winter was long, and she was weary. But then the little stem heard a voice. It was another grape stem calling out to her... "Here, reach out, hang on to me." But the little stem hesitated. "What would this mean?" she wondered. For you see, the little stem had always managed quite well... All by herself. Then ever so cautiously, she reached out toward the other grape stem. "See, I can help you," it said. "Just wind your tendrils about me, and I will help you lift your head." And the little stem trusted. Suddenly, she could stand straight again. The wind came...and the rain...and the snow. But when it came, the little stem was clinging to many other stems. And although the stems were swayed by the wind, and frozen by the snow, they stood strongly united to each other and in their quiet strength, they could smile and grow. One day, the little stem said, "Here, hang on... I will help you. And another stem reached up to the little grape stem. And together, all stems grew...leaves budded ... flowers bloomed ... and finally the grapes formed.... Without each other, they would never have grown to have such a great bunch and have so many grapes to bless and feed many. Subscribe send a blank email to: the-inspired-buffalo-subscribe@yahoogroups.com =================================================================== >Love Never Fails Story Editor: by Bethann Joyce Schowalter England, United Kingdom \\ ///// | | (| _ _ |) |` | '| | __ | >>>___/\_^__/\___<<< / ||| \ Frank was a soldier, and all the time he was in Burma as a POW, he dreamed of getting out and having a life. He suffered terribly, and was left scarred physically and emotionally. When he came home, his fiancee's parents worried his scars meant he was too damaged to make a good husband. They forbade him to marry "Bette". Frank and Bette obeyed, as was done then. Neither married. Frank worked hard, cared for his parents, an aunt, then a disabled nephew. Bette was the same, the maiden aunt always helping others. She too helped people avoid public-funded care, helping people spend their last days in homely comfort. She and Frank spoke often, but visited infrequently due to distance. As Bette's health failed, she was moved to a beautiful, privately-funded nursing home. She loved her beautiful sunny room, the gardens and duckpond. She was waited on compassionately, as she'd cared for many others. Frank, however, was in a dingy, dark rented flat, with no central heat or bathtub. Yet Frank never seemed to mind. We nurses brought Frank "extras", worried he'd forego warm socks or dinner. We loved his gentle ways, humour, and the little gifts he made for us. He was patient as we bandaged his legs wounds -- painful ulcers still weeping from his torture scars. One day Frank asked a nurse to take him to see Bette. She drove Frank on her own time. She watched Frank hold Bette's hand, obviously comforting her. Oblivious to Bette's dementia, Frank spoke heartfelt words. Before he left, he kissed Bette, and she said, "Frank?" The nurse ran out, sobbing. After that, if necessary, we paid ourselves for a taxi to get Frank to Bette. Once I asked him how she afforded such a nice nursing home. Putting finger to lips, he showed me sheaths of legal documents, insurance, investments, pensions. He said "I pay. Please: If something happens to me, make sure Bette never wants." I was dumbstruck. Frank lived in poverty to ensure Bette's exceptional care. Over time we convinced Frank to eat better and get a mobility scooter so he could visit Bette himself. Asked if he was happier he said, "I was afraid if I took anything, there wouldn't be enough for Bette. I couldn't bear to see her go without..." Then the call from the nursing home, "Please get Frank". Beautiful Bette had passed away in her sleep. Frank said his goodbyes. Returning to his home, I found Frank happy. "She's free", he said. "No more pain. Someday, I'll join her -- free, too." Bette's 18 years of care cost Frank one million dollars. He then trust-funded the nursing home for free care in Bette's name -- endowing two beds for the forseeable future. The day I left to move to another place, Frank took my hand to share a secret. "We married in 1951, but didn't want to hurt her folks. Did I fail her?" I told Frank he was my hero. He'd lived in poverty with enough to live like a king -- for Bette's sake. =======HeroicStories======= >-->From Sermondfodder: All I Ever Needed to Know I Learned From LEGOs - October 21, 2003 .-+~~~~+-. / \ |'~~~~~~~~`| || o o || || \__/ || Hand Me Another Brick |`--------'| >----------< ,p~V V~q, ,Z /.sdbs. d7 \ N, Z | 8( )8_/P `| N d' | `YbdY' | `b |' ,.| |., `| | _ /| |~ | .p~~TV/ ./*T~\, |( ) \|~~~~~~~~~~~~~V ()#,| `b'\\.|-----+--+-----\/ ~' `` ``| | | |~+ | | | | |------`'------| | || | |------||------| | || | |______||______| Ric Hotchkiss Are you into LEGOs? Our son, Caleb, is. He has been playing with LEGOs since he was about four years old. He likes to put the kits together -- one time. After that, he uses the pieces to create his own designs. For the last couple of months, he's been working on Legoville. His layout features a railroad, streets, vehicles, people, and several buildings. Oh, did I mention that it covers a third of our family room? Comprehension, strategy, and ingenuity are just three life-skills being developed in Caleb by these little bricks. LEGO Lessons for Life Life might be less complicated for all of us if we each received our own LEGO kit at birth. Yes, I realize there is a choking hazard for children under three. But when you are old enough, you can learn a lot from LEGOs. >I have learned that: ~ Size doesn't matter. When stepped on in the dark, a 2X2 LEGO brick causes the same amount of pain as a 2X8 brick. ~ All LEGO men are created equal (1.5625 inches tall). What they become is limited only by imagination. ~ There is strength in numbers. When the bricks stick together, great things can be accomplished. ~ Playtime is important. Sometimes it doesn't matter what you are building, as long as you're having fun. ~ Disaster happens. But the pieces can be put back together again. ~ Every brick has a purpose. Some are made for a specific spot - most can adapt almost anywhere - but every one will fit somewhere. ~ Color doesn't matter. A blue brick will fit in the same space as a red brick. ~ No one is indispensable. If one brick is unavailable, another can take its place. ~ It doesn't always turn out as planned. Sometimes it turns out better. If it doesn't, you can always try again. A few of Caleb's LEGO creations can be seen at www.blessed2bless.us/caleb/legos.html Read more writings by Steve at www.blessed2bless.us/by-steve.html Subscribe to "Blessed to Bless" at www.blessed2bless.us/subscribe.html == Contributed by Steve Klusmeyer Read more writings by Steve at http://216.74.109.125/by-steve.html -- From Daily Wisdom To subscribe, mailto:dw-subscribe@lists.gospelcom.net ====================================================================== ) ( ) _.-~(~-. (@\`---'/. Tea, ) (' `._.' `) anyone? ( `-..___..-' ) .-.,--^--. _ \\| `---' |// \| / niki _\_______/_ >-->From PetWarmers: THE TEA PARTY by Clara Wersterfer There once was a little girl who loved animals. She had a gold fish, two tiny turtles in a bowl, a rabbit and three dogs. Two of the dogs were small Terriers, and the other one was a big black Chow dog. The little girl had neither a brother nor sister with whom she could play, therefore she spent a lot of time with her pets. She fed and brushed them, ran and played with them, sometimes dressing her two little dogs in doll's clothing. One day, Grandma came to stay with little girl while the mother and father worked. The little girl became bored and asked, "Grandma what can I play?" Grandma thought for a moment before replying, "Why don't you have a tea party?" The little girl clapped her hands in delight. She loved tea parties! Grandma helped the little girl set up the table and arrange her tea set. She filled the teapot with water, and the little girl made several "finger sandwiches" from saltine crackers and peanut butter. Grandma provided a plate of ginger snaps. The girl gathered the dogs, put dresses on the two Terriers, and tried to make them sit on chairs. She would seat them, and admonish them to stay, but they would jump down. After about a zillion tries, and several bites of crackers, the dogs became weary and finally sat on the chairs, tongues hanging out, tails wagging, anticipating the treats. The girl carefully poured water into four little cups and lifted the plate of "sandwiches" to serve to the dogs when bad luck befell the happy gathering. Without even a meow, the neighbors big black cat sashayed thru the hedge. Oops! In unison, the two little Terriers jumped off the chairs, running after the cat, barking and yipping, dresses flapping in the breeze. Mr. Cat ran back into the hedges and jumped up on the fence, licking his paw, out of reach of the nattily dressed small dogs. Fortunately, Chow Dog was looking at the food on the table when the cat made its appearance. He did not see the cat immediately, but when the other dogs barked, he turned to see what was happening. Quick as a wink, the girl threw her arms around his neck, gabbing his collar. She held on tight, trying to keep the big dog from the cat chase. But Chow Dog outweighed her by several pounds. The best the girl could do was hang on to the collar for dear life. The two Terriers, unable to get to the cat, turned their attention to the new commotion and chased after Chow Dog and the girl. Around the yard ran they ran. The little girl was holding on with both hands now. Grandma, sitting on the porch shelling peas, jumped up, knocked over the pan of peas, ran down the steps, brandishing the broom while yelling, "STOP, STOP, STOP" at the dogs. The dogs didn't slow their pace and were barking louder than before. Chow Dog circled the yard once more before he stopped at the edge of the duck pond. The girl untangled her fingers, slid from the dog's back and rolled down the small knoll. She tumbled into the duck pond with a big splash. Two large geese were swimming and began honking, and the four resident ducks flew from the pond, quacking loudly. Just then, the two Terriers arrived, still full of excitement from chasing the poor cat and dog. They began running back and forth, yelping at the sight of the girl in the pond. Grandma was still calling out for the dogs to stop. Meanwhile, Chow Dog had gone to the Tea Party area, knocked over the table, scattered the tea set, and began scarffing down the peanut butter crackers and cookies. Grandma arrived to lift the little girl, wet and muddy, from the shallow pond. She was not injured and put her arms around Grandma's neck. "Grandma, I'm glad you thought of a tea party. You have the very bestest ideas" she said. "This was sooo much fun! I wasn't a bit bored. Can we please do it again tomorrow?" Grandma's eyes swept over the yard, and sighed, "Maybe some other day. Right now, it looks like we've gone to the dogs." -- Clara Wersterfer ____________________________________________ Clara still loves animals as much as she did as a child. She and her "fur kids" reside in Texas. ====================================================================== In a full heart there is room for everything, and in an empty heart there is room for nothing. -- Antonio Porchia >Updated FUN STUFF URLS - Wow Baby :)Shangy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------- http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/urls.html FUN URLS ------------------------------------------------------------------------- -->Bigham's Computer Rescue - PC Sales & Serrvice You can trust us to provide you with quality computer sales and repair. We've been servicing the Van Wert area since 1981 and can help you with all your computer needs. Please phone us at 419-238-5806 ************************************************************************ -->This is for all you who love food and DARRE to make it at home Yep. You guessed it - Recipes. 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