Story Time! ... :) 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 ================ ) _ \ ) (_) _ () \ .-'` \ ) {_} () .-'````'-. / ) \ / `'-. ___ /.------. \| \ () \ .-'`___`;/ __ `\ | __ () | .'.-'` __'.| o/__\o |/ / /| \/ / o /__\o\ \\// /; // / ._ \_| \\//|`-.__.-'|\ '; / / \ .' \-.___.'| || |/ \/ `._ '-/ | || '.___./ . '-.\_.-' __'-._||_.-' _ / .`""===(||).___.(||)(||)----'(||)===...__ `"jgs"`""=====""""========"""====...__ `""==._ `"=. `"=. `"=. >-->2 HOT Off The 'Shangy' Press! :) This scorcher is from our friend KarenF. I do so love this art work! Most impressive and sure to awe you! Give it time to load and turn up your sound... /\ /\ //\\ //\\ // \\ // \\ // \\ // \\ // /\ \\// /\ \\ \\ //\\ //\\ //\\ // \// \// \// \// //\ //\ //\ //\ // \\// \\// \\// \\ \\ \/ //\\ \/ // \\ // \\ // \\ // \\ // \\// \\// jgs \/ \/ Chalk Art 6 http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/chalkart6.html --- ...Very amazing! Love this series! Thanks KarenF! This hot tottie is from our friend Geniann. It is one of those that will put a smile on your face. Give it time to load, turn up your sound and check it out here... _ *' ' _ _ (/) _.___ ()\ ()\ ,/_) X X (__\. kOs Think Happy Thoughts http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/happythoughts.html --- ...A sweet one! I Luv it! Thanks Geniann! -<>- >-->We have new recipes added from our friend Bunni :) ( ( ) ) ) ( ( ( ` .-""^"""^""^"""^""-. (//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//) ~\^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^/~ jgs `================` Check here - Easy-Does-It Home Recipes: http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/easy.html Under MEALS For: Crispy Baked POTATOES By Bunni And Under DESSERTS For: Bite-Sized Apple PIES By Bunni --- ...These look like super yummy ones! Thanks Bunni! =========================================================== >-->From Heartwarmers: Instead of being a time of unusual behavior, Christmas is perhaps the only time in the year when people can obey their natural impulses and express their true sentiments without feeling self-conscious and, perhaps, foolish. Christmas, in short, is about the only chance a man has to be himself. -- Francis C. Farley _ _ _ _ _ /^\ /:\ /%\ /8\ /#\ /___\ /:::\ /%%%\ /888\ /###\ [_____]:::::]%%%%%]88888]#####] |_____|_____|_____|_____|_____| |=====|=====|=====|=====|=====| | _ | _ | _ | _ | _ | | / \ | / \| / \ | / \ |/ \ | || || | || ||| || | | || || | || ||| || | | || || | || ||| || | | | \_/ | \_/| \_/ | \_/ |\_/ | |_____|_____|_____|_____|_____| jgs |=====|=====|=====|=====|=====| | |:::::|%%%%%|88888|#####| '-----'-----'-----'-----'-----' >CHRISTMAS CRAYONS by Darlene Buechel My childhood was filled with laughter, love, and happy memories -- especially during the holidays, but tthe yuletide that stands out most is the year of the Christmas Crayons. I was nine that December, little sis Diane was eight and big brother Dennis was 10. Since all of us were sophisticated non-believers in the man in the big red suit, Mom thought she'd be straight with us. "Money's tight so you're each getting one small gift so I can get your dad the dresser he needs," Mom warned. Dennis made a grumpy face, but Diane and I weren't too upset. After all, we had plenty of Barbies and board games to occupy our free time. One day, about a week before Christmas, Dad was at work so Mom brought out a huge box and a gigantic roll of red wrapping paper. "I need you kids to help wrap but remember, Dad's dresser is our secret," Mom winked as Diane and I grabbed scotch tape and Dennis found the scissors. After the box was gaily decorated, Mom let the three of us drag it into her sewing room -- Dad would never look in there. Since we always got up early Christmas morning, we could put it under the tree and surprise Dad when he got up for Christmas breakfast. I knew my parents always stayed up late on Christmas Eve, then put presents out before they slipped off to bed. Since I was nine and had my own alarm, I set it for 12:15am so I could sneak out and look at the loot under the tree. I felt a little sad when I spied only three small gifts that Christmas Eve. I frowned at the smallest tagged "Darlene", but didn't dare shake it, smell it, or touch it. I was old enough to know Christmas held little magic if I already guessed my one and only gift. I trudged back to my room and reset my alarm for 6:15 before slinking back under my smiley face quilt. I was extra quiet so as not to wake my little sister softly snoring under her Strawberry Shortcake blanket on the other twin bed. Two blinks later my shrieking alarm clock signaled Christmas morning was finally here. I popped out of bed and shrugged into my blue fuzzy bathrobe before I yanked the pink quilt off of Diane. We heard Dennis already galloping down the stairs, so Diane and I quickly followed. As soon as we entered the living room I blinked a few times in the hopes our three tiny gifts would have multiplied over night, but no such luck. Without a word we trudged off to the sewing room to get Dad's gift. By the time we'd dragged it under the tree, Mom was in the kitchen putting her famous cinnamon rolls into the oven and we already smelled Dad's coffee perking. "Time for presents. Hurry up!" Diane tugged mom's bathrobe, then all five of us scrambled back into the living room. "Youngest first," Dad commanded when Dennis started reaching for his gift. Diane quickly ripped the festive paper off her cereal-sized package and promptly pulled out a bright red coloring book with a goofy grinning elf on the cover. "Thanks," she squeaked in her best trying-to-be-happy voice. I was next, so I grabbed the smaller box with my name on it and carefully peeled off the paper. "Geeze -- think we got all day?" Dennis grumbled. My smile was genuine as I inspected my big box of 64 Crayola Crayons. "Wow! It even has a built in sharpener. Thanks." Mom and Dad grinned as Dennis ripped the paper off his one measly gift. "Neat. A model car," my brother mumbled with all the enthusiasm reserved for a visit to the dentist for three silver fillings. Mom and Dad chuckled softly, then Mom smiled. "Kids, why don't you help Dad open his present?" The three of us huddled around the huge box while Dad stayed parked in his Lazy-Boy. "Go ahead. You didn't get to open much this year," Dad nodded. The three of us quickly ripped into the bright red paper, and Dennis pulled the tape off the huge brown box. Shouts of "Wow!" and "Groovy!" filled the room as the three of us discovered more than a dozen wrapped gifts nestled inside the big box. Dennis frantically grabbed at all the boxes bearing his name -- boys were such animals! I glanced shyly at Dad to see if he was disappointed. "What about the dresser?" I asked. Mom laughed. "We got a new one last summer, remember? I saved the box for this Christmas surprise." The next moments were a blur of flying paper and gasps of delight. I don't recall the other gifts I gushed over that year, but I think about the Christmas Crayons every December. These days when Christmas means big ticket items like portable DVD players and Nintendo games for elementary school kids, I long for a simpler time when a box of 64 (with its very own built in sharpener!) brought pure joy. Yes, I'm glad my childhood was filled with laughter, love and one special Yuletide -- colored with the joy of Christmas Crayons. -- Darlene Buechel ___________________________________________ Darlene -- a Wisconsin Cheesehead -- enjoys reading, writing, and coloring during blustery winter nights. Some of her previous Heartwarmers include, The Incredible Shrinking Mom, Fistfull of Pennies and Easy Bake Christmas. You can reach her here: mailto:dar@tcei.com ========================================================== >-->Story Time From Our Friend Geniann :) This is well worth reading. I pray it means as much to you as it did me. Life isn't handed to us on a silver platter. But when we stop thinking inward and open our heart to God, He will send us someone to fill that need of friendship. God bless!!!! .-'--. .' '. / _ `-. / .\- \, , ; .-|-' \####, |, .-|-' ;#### ,## ` ,|###" #,####, "#, ,#|^;# `###### `#####,|##" |`)| `##### ```o\`\o_.| ;\ (-`\#, .-'` |` : `; `\ ;\#, \ \-' )( \# C,_ \ ; (_, \ / `'./ | \ / | .-`'--'`. | jgs | ( \ , /_, | \ ` `` / '-.__ // .' `'`.__.' >Cheyenne "Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?" Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle. "I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts.... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him? Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon .. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man. Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack.. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone. My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article..." I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons: too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly. As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?" "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog." I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said.. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw... Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at is feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years.. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind. The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it." "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter... his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father.... and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live while you are alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second chance. And if you don't send this to anyone -- no one will know. But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found. God answers our prayers in His time... not ours... --- ...A heartwarming Classic! Thanks Geniann! ============================================================ >-->Story Time From Our Friends Linda, KarenF and PatDeE :) _ _ /` ) ( `\ ( `\ / / \ \ \ \/ / __\ '---. \ /___ ( __/ / ) '--. ( / .-----' \__\_../ / .-' / /. .' /.-"""""-._ / .-. -` _.--.._ '-._, | /\ \ -" `' / / \/ / .__ / __..-' '-' _.' /_/ '-..____..-' \ | '--,-' / (_____.,--' __.' \ ( jgs| \ >The True Story Of Rudolph A man named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night. His 4-year-old daughter Barbara sat on his lap quietly sobbing. Bob's wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer. Little Barbara couldn't understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad's eyes and asked, "Why isn't Mommy just like everybody else's Mommy?" Bob's jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears. Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger. It had been the story of Bob's life. Life always had to be different for Bob. Small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys. He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was often called names he'd rather not remember. From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to fit in. Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at Montgomery Ward during the Great Depression. Then he was blessed with his little girl. But it was all short-lived. Evelyn's bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced to live in a two-room apartment in the Chicago slums. Evelyn died just days before Christmas in 1938. Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn't even afford to buy a Christmas gift. But if he couldn't buy a gift, he was determined to make one - a storybook! Bob had created an animal character in his own mind and told the animal's story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling. Who was the character? What was the story all about? The story Bob May created was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was. The name of the character? A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose. Bob finished the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn't end there.. The general manager of Montgomery Ward caught wind of the little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the rights to print the book. Wards went on to print, “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores. By 1946 Wards had printed and distributed more than six million copies of Rudolph. That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an updated version of the book. In an unprecedented gesture of kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May. The book became a best seller. Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter. But the story doesn't end there either. Bob's brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation to Rudolph. Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and DinahShore , it was recorded by the singing cowboy, Gene Autry. "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer" was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of "White Christmas." The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning back to bless him again and again. And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn't so bad. In fact, being different can be a blessing. MERRY CHRISTMAS Enjoy life... it has an expiration --- ...Sweet classic Heartwarmer! Thanks Linda KarenF And PatDeE! ========================================================== >-->Story Time From Our Friend Linda :) * , _/^\_ < > * /.-.\ * * `/&\` * ,@.*;@, /_o.I %_\ * * (`'--:o(_@; /`;--.,__ `') * ;@`o % O,*`'`&\ * (`'--)_@ ;o %'()\ * /`;--._`''--._O'@; /&*,()~o`;-.,_ `""`) * /`,@ ;+& () o*`;-';\ (`""--.,_0 +% @' &()\ /-.,_ ``''--....-'`) * * /@%;o`:;'--,.__ __.'\ ;*,&(); @ % &^;~`"`o;@(); * /(); o^~; & ().o@*&`;&%O\ jgs `"="==""==,,,.,="=="==="` __.----.(\-''#####---...___...-----._ '` \)_`"""""` .--' ') o( )_-\ `"""` ` >Gas Station Christmas story worth reading The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through. Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll just go." "Not without something hot in your belly." George said. He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew ... Made it myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh." Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken." George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead. "You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away. "But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good." George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ." George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought. George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on. "Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway. As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me." George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease. "Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance." The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio. He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area." George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain." George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked. "None for me," said the officer. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time. The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before. "That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer. "Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt." The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!" The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now." He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pea shooter away." George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week." George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can." He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out." The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer." "Shut up and drink your coffee " the cop said. George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer. "Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?" "GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man. Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran." George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. "That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job." The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?" Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything." "Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems." George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day." The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you." "And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need." George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours." The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier. "And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said. "Now git home to your family." The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good." "Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after." George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?" "I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?" "Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby." The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor. The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man." George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man. "Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again." The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned." George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room. "You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas." George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord Jesus" Merry Christmas!! This story is better than any greeting card. MERRY CHRISTMAS AND GOD BLESS! --- ...Awww, so sweet! Thank You Linda! -<>- This is so heart-rending,it had me in tears * tree w/presents * 11/96 | \ ' / -- (*) -- >*< >0<@< >>>@<<* >@>*<0<<< >*>>@<<<@<< >@>>0<<<*<<@< >*>>0<<@<<<@<<< >@>>*<<@<>*<<0<*< \*/ >0>>*<<@<>0><<*<@<< ___\\U//___ >*>>@><0<<*>>@><*<0<< |\\ | | \\| >@>>0<*<0>>@<<0<<<*<@<< | \\| | _(UU)_ >((*))_>0><*<0><@<<<0<*< |\ \| || / //||.*.*.*.|>>@<<*<<@>><0<<< jgs |\\_|_|&&_// ||*.*.*.*|_\\db//_ """"|'.'.'.|~~|.*.*.*| ____|_ |'.'.'.| ^^^^^^|____|>>>>>>| ~~~~~~~~ '""""`------' >Gold Wrapping Paper~~Merry Christmas I received this from a friend who had a choice to make. It said that I had a choice to make too. I've chosen. Now it's your turn to choose. The story goes that some time ago a mother punished her five year old daughter for wasting a roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and she became even more upset when the child used the gold paper to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift box to her mother the next morning and then said, "This is for you, Momma." The mother was embarrassed by her earlier over reaction, but her anger flared again when she opened the box and found it was empty. She spoke to her daughter in a harsh manner. "Don't you know, young lady, when you give someone a present there's supposed to be something inside the package?" She had tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Momma, it's not empty! I blew kisses into it until it was full." The mother was crushed. She fell on her knees and put her arms around her little girl, and she begged her forgiveness for her thoughtless anger. An accident took the life of the child only a short time later, and it is told that the mother kept that gold box by her bed for all the years of her life. Whenever she was discouraged or faced difficult problems she would open the box and take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there. In a very real sense, each of us, as human beings, have been given a Golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and GOD. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold. You now have two choices: 1. Pass this on to your friends, or 2. Delete it and act like it didn't touch your heart. As you can see, I took choice No. 1.Friends are like angels who lift us to our feet, when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly. --- ...Indeed a Heartwarmer! Thanks Linda! -<>- ,_ , /^\\ //\ | \\ // \ | || ,==. // | \ ||.=~////"=,|| / /(\ /////////\\\\\ /) (/(((///`~\\\\\)))\\///\ (//)))/_.-"")))\\((//((()) (((((((_.-"///"")).`')\\(\\ )))())' ((( ( './//))) (////~/ )) (((/(/ /)///` ( ))\(( `//(/_ '._ _.' _\\\ ((((/^\ '. .' /^\))) (\)\\__\ ' ' /__/(( )))\ ' ' /))) )//)/| ' ' |((( //))))/\ : : / )) (((((\\| : : | ( \\)\\\| : : | )))))| _.--'''--._ | /(/// \.' _____ './ (JGS( / .-': :'-. \ ))) \.' . . './ (( | . . | ) |/ '. .' \| //( )\\ \\/ \// `\ ''' /` '.__.__.' `"""` >Because Of Love A brother and sister had made their usual hurried, obligatory pre- Christmas visit to the little farm where dwelt their elderly parents with their small herd of horses. The farm was where they had grown up and had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine, which topped the hill behind the farm. Through the years the tree had become a talisman to the old man and his wife and a landmark in the countryside. The young siblings had fond memories of their childhood here, but the city hustle and bustle added more excitement to their lives, and called them away to a different life. The old folks no longer showed their horses, for the years had taken their toll, and getting out to the barn on those frosty mornings was getting harder, but it gave them a reason to get up in the mornings and a reason to live. They sold a few foals each year, and the horses were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day's end. Angry, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the old folks Why do you not at least dispose of The Old One." She is no longer of use to you. It's been years since you've had foals from her. You should cut corners and save so you can have more for yourselves. How can this old worn out horse bring you anything but expense and work? Why do you keep her anyway?" The old man looked down at his worn boots, holes in the toes, scuffed at the barn floor and replied, " Yes, I could use a pair of new boots. His arm slid defensively about the Old Ones neck as he drew her near with gentle caressing he rubbed her softly behind her ears. He replied softly, We keep her because of love. Nothing else, just love." Baffled and irritated, the young folks wished the old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole through the valley. The old couple shook their heads in sorrow that it had not been a happy visit. A tear fell upon their cheeks. How is it that these young folks do not understand the peace of the love that filled their hearts? So it was, that because of the unhappy leave-taking, no one noticed the insulation smoldering on the frayed wires in the old barn. None saw the first spark fall. None but the "Old One". In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to the barn to save their beloved horses. But the flames were roaring now, and the blazing heat drove him back. He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless before the fire's fury. His wife back from calling for help cradled him in her arms, clinging to each other, they wept at their loss. By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife, exhausted from their grief, huddled together before the barn. They were speechless as they rose from the cold snow covered ground. They nodded thanks to the firemen as there was nothing anyone could do now. The old man turned to his wife, resting her white head upon his shoulders as his shaking old hands clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red bandana. Brokenly he whispered, "We have lost much, but God has spared our home on this eve of Christmas. Let us gather strength and climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair. We will look down upon our home and give thanks to God that it has been spared and pray for our beloved most precious gifts that have been taken from us. And so, he took her by the hand and slowly helped her up the snowy hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his old and withered hand. The journey up the hill was hard for their old bodies in the steep snow. As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they paused to rest, looking up to the top of the hill the old couple gasped and fell to their knees in amazement at the incredible beauty before them. Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with heavenly candles. And poised on its top most bough, a crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass. Never had a mere mortal created a Christmas tree such as this. They were breathless as the old man held his wife tighter in his arms. Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder and incredible joy. Amazed and mystified, he took his wife by the hand and pulled her forward. There, beneath the tree, in resplendent glory, a mist hovering over and glowing in the darkness was their Christmas gift. Shadows glistening in the night light Bedded down about the "Old One" close to the trunk of the tree, was the entire herd, safe. At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door ajar with her muzzle and had led the horses through it. Slowly and with great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping cautiously through the snow. The foals were frightened and dashed about. The skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits. The mares that were in foal with a new years crop of babies, pressed uneasily against the "Old One" as she moved calmly up the hill and to safety beneath the pine. And now she lay among them and gazed at the faces of the old man and his wife. Those she loved she had not disappointed. Her body was brittle with years, tired from the climb, but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her gift--- Because of love. Only Because of love. Tears flowed as the old couple shouted their praise and joy... And again the peace of love filled their hearts. This is a true story. This is an Inspirational message sent to a small group of people. My hope is that it will make your day just a little bit better. Keep reading A small request ! Cancer is a strange cell. Going along for years in remission and then one day it pops its head up again. Pray for the day there will be a permanent cure. A SMALL REQUEST... 93% won't forward, but I'm Sure You Will....... A small request....Just one line Dear God, I pray for the cure of cancer in Jesus Christ's Name. Amen All you are asked to do is keep this circulating. Even if it's only to one more person. In memory of anyone you know who has been struck down by cancer or is still living with it. --- ...Yes, I reached for the tissues - Again! Thanks Linda! ============================================================ >-->From Our Friend KarenF :) _______ / /_ / -/- / / / / / / /_______/ / jgs ((______| / `"""""""` >MAMA'S BIBLE Four brothers left home for college, and they became successful doctors and lawyers, and prospered. Some years later, they chatted after having dinner together. They discussed the gifts they were able to give their elderly mother who lived far away in another city. The first said, "I had a big house built for Mama." The second said, "I had a hundred thousand dollar theater built in the house." The third said, "I had my Mercedes dealer deliver an SL600 to her." The fourth said, "You know how Mama loved reading the Bible and you know she can't read anymore because she can't see very well. I met this preacher who told me about a parrot that can recite the entire Bible. It took twenty preachers 12 years to teach him. I had to pledge to contribute $100,000 a year for twenty years to the church, but it was worth it. Mama just has to name the chapter and verse and the parrot will recite it." The other brothers were impressed. After the holidays Mom sent out her Thank You notes. She wrote: " Milton, the house you built is so huge; I live in only one room, but I have to clean the whole house. Thanks anyway." "Marvin, I am too old to travel. I stay home; I have my groceries delivered, so I never use the Mercedes. The thought was good. Thanks." "Michael, you gave me an expensive theater with Dolby sound, it could hold 50 people, but all of my friends are dead; I've lost my hearing and I'm nearly blind. I'll never use it. Thank you for the gesture just the same." "Dearest Bob, you were the only son to have the good sense to give a little thought to your gift. The chicken was delicious. Thank you. Luv Ya, Mama --- ...TeeHee! Oh My! Thanks KarenF! =============================================================== >-->From Our Friend Bunni :) \\\\, / \\ '<' ) \- / _)_(_ .'\___/'. /.-.___.-.\ [_________] | | ( | , | (\/) ) _\)_ | -|- | <_@__> _(/_ || | | | (/\)(\/) || || | | (\/) <_@_> || || | | <_@_>'(/\) || || | | (/\|/|-. || || .---------. _|_|_ || ||_,-'---------'-,__ |WWWWW| ___jgs|_|____________________|_\_____/__ This is my life, and my dreams are worth it Life is a courageous journey or nothing at all. We cannot become who we want to be by continuing to do exactly what we’ve been doing. If you are passionate about something, pursue it, no matter what anyone else thinks. That’s how dreams are achieved. Be deaf when people tell you that you can’t fulfill your dreams. The only place where your goals and dreams are impossible is inside your head. Once you’ve dreamed of it, you’re halfway there. So go ahead and follow through. Let your dreams be bigger than your fears and your actions louder than your words. Follow your heart regardless of what others tell you to do. At the end of the day it’s you who has to live with your decisions, not them. --Unknown --- ...So True! Thanks Bunni! =========================================================== >-->Fun Places To Net Visit :) Are Angels Real? http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/BibleStudy/angelsreal.html Advice For The New Year http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/newyear.html Attitude Is Everything 3 http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/attitude3.html Christ's Life http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/jesuslife.html Where's The Line? http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/seejesus.html Puppy Days Of Christmas http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/puppychristmas.html Rules For Raising Children http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/rulesforchildren.html Price Of Children http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/child.html Molly The Speckled Pony http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/molly.html Yearly Friendship Renewal http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/renewal.html -<>- >From Our Friend Gebiann :) MERRY CHRISTMAS ! Have a Merry Christmas & a Happy 2013 http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=ki8EcnVbd-Q --- ...Awww, Luv this! So Adorable! Thanks Geniann! -<>- >From Our Friend Johanna... This is cool, it looks like the house is jumping. As the story goes, the guy that owns this house lives north of Cincinnati , Ohio ( Mason , Ohio ).. Police were constantly being called for traffic jams and accidents in the neighborhood so they asked him to shut it down during certain hours. Instead he started charging by car load to pay off duty police to be there.. The guy is supposedly a real computer GEEK! So click on the link below and enjoy! Best Christmas Lights Display We have this one here.. Amazing Grace http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/amazinggrace.html --- ...I Love this house decoration! Thanks Johanna! -<>- Linda sent us one we have here... This is so Breathtaking! Winter Wonderland! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/lessons.html --- ...I do love this reminder! Thanks Linda! -<>- >From Our Friend KarenF :) Karen sent us ones we have here... Maxine On Holidays http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/maxineholidays.html Maxine On Christmas http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/maxinechristmas.html --- ...FUN Reminders! Thanks KarenF! Message From Santa http://www.mamarocks.com/message_from_santa.htm Jingle Bell Rock http://www.mamarocks.com/jingle_bell_rock.htm Reindeer Cam...Live Feed... Holiday Site http://reindeercam.com/ This is precious! http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=ki8EcnVbd-Q http://carolynspreciousmemories.com/Pages.html#HOL The True Meaning Of Christmas http://heavens-gates.com/meaningofchristmas/ On A Snowy Christmas Night http://tinyurl.com/2yfdmx Meaning Of Christmas http://llerrah.com/truemeaningofchristmas.htm Ring Them Bells http://bcoff43.com/christmas/Ring_Them_Bells.html Type in any Christmas song and see what the little puppets do. Also, type in any non-Christmas song and you'll get a kick out of the response. Christmas Carolers http://www.sundog.net/carolofthechins/flash/card.swf --- ...Awesome!! Thanks KarenF ========================================================== .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:. - TEACH THE CHILDREN - Author Unknown ASCII art by joan stark _ (__/_) .-'''''-. _ | |'-----'| / \|ate one Christmas Eve, I sank back, |-.....-| \__|\_ tired but content, into my | | easy chair. The kids were in bed, the gifts | | were wrapped, the milk and _,._ | | cookies waited by the __.o` o`"-. | | fireplace for Santa. .-O o `"-.o O )_,._ | | ( o O o )--.-"`O o"-.`'-----'` '--------' ( o O o) `----------` As I sat back admiring the tree with its decorations, I couldn't help feeling that something | important was missing. It wasn't \ ' / long before the tiny, twinkling -- (*) -- tree lights lulled me to sleep. >*< I don't know how long I slept, >0<@< but all of a sudden I knew that >>>@<<* I wasn't alone. >@>*<0<<< >*>>@<<<@<< I opened my eyes, and you can >@>>0<<<*<<@< imagine my surprise when I saw >*>>0<<@<<<@<<< Santa Claus himself standing >@>>*<<@<>*<<0<*< next to my Christ- \*/ >0>>*<<@<>0><<*<@<< mas tree. __\\U//__ >*>>@><0<<*>>@><*<0<< |\\ | | \\| >@>>0<*<0>>@<<0<<<*<@<< He was dressed | \\| | _(UU)_ >((*))_>0><*<0><@<<<0<*< all in fur from |\ \| || / //||.*.*.*.|>>@<<*<<@>><0<<< his head to his |\\_|_|&&_// ||*.*.*.*|_\\db//__ foot just as """"|'.'.'.|~~|.*.*.*| _____|_ poem described him, |'.'.'.| ^^^^^^|____|>>jgs>>| but he was not the ~~~~~~~~ '""""`-------' "jolly old elf" of Christmas legend. The man who stood before me looked sad and disappointed. And there were tears in his eyes. ____ "Santa, what's wrong?" I asked. ;` `'-._ "Why are you crying?" / \ /\ /` \ | ; "It's the children." Santa / \ | | replied sadly. / `\ | | / \_ / | "But Santa, the children love ; / `\ | you." I said. ,|_ __ \__/ | _\_o/_( |_ "Oh, I know they love me, and /`"=/\==""=="=="=="=="`\ they love the gifts I bring | )/ | them," Santa said, "but the \ / children of today seem to /';=""==""==""==""==";`\ have somehow missed out on | /` /~\ /~\ `\ | the true spirit of Christmas. | \ _ \o/ \o/ _ / | It's not their fault. It's \ ; (_) ` o (_) ; / just that the adults, / |\_.-""(__)""-._/| \ many of them not having | \ /\ / | been taught themselves, / '.___.' '.___.' \ have forgotten to teach | ,==, | the children." | ' ' | \ / "Teach them what?" I asked. | | \ / Santa's kind old face became '. .' soft, more gentle. His eyes jgs '-.__ __.-' began to shine with something '---'--'---' more than tears. He spoke softly. "Teach the children the true meaning of Christmas. Teach them that the part of Christmas we can see, hear, and touch is much more than meets the eye. Teach them the symbolism behind the customs and traditions of Christmas which we now observe. Teach them what it is they truly represent." | Santa reached into his bag and pulled out a \|/ tiny Christmas tree and set it on my mantle. \\|// "Teach them about the Christmas tree. \\\Y/// Green is the second color of Christmas. \\\|/// The stately evergreen, \\\\Y//// with it's unchanging color, \\\\|//// represents the hope of eternal life in Jesus. `\\Y//` It's needles point heavenward as a reminder `#` that man's thoughts should turn __#__ heavenward as well." [_ _] \___/ Santa reached into his bag again and pulled out a shiny star and placed it at the top of the small tree. * ' . . "The star was the heavenly sign . | . of promise. God promised a Savior \ | / + for the world and the star was * \|/ the sign of the fulfillment of --==> * <==-- ' that promise on the night that + /|\ . Jesus Christ was born. . / | \ Teach the children that God . ' | ' * always fulfills his promises, | and that wise men still seek Him." . ' . "Red," said Santa, "is the first color of Christmas." He pulled forth a red ornament for the tiny tree. ____ "Red is deep, intense, vivid. It is the .' '. color of the life-giving blood that flows / # \_ through our veins. It is the symbol of | {_{c} God's greatest gift. Teach the children \ / `\ that Christ gave his life and shed his '.____.' (__) blood for them that they might have eternal life. When they see the color red it should remind them of that most wonderful gift." Santa found a silver bell in his pack and placed it on the tree. "Just as lost sheep are guided , to safety by the sound of the bell, it /\`--. continues to ring today for all to be |o-| )D guided to the fold. Teach the children \/.--' to follow the true Shepherd, who gave His life for the sheep." Santa placed a candle on the mantle and lit it. The soft glow from its one tiny flame brightened the room. "The glow of the candle represents how man ( can show his thanks for the gift of God's ,=(,)=, son that Christmas Eve long ago. Teach |'==='| _, the children to follow in Christ's | |,)/( footsteps. To go about doing good. | |)/<_, Teach them to let their light so >>>\, _/<8<-_/ shine before men that all may see >>>>>>oo<<)\( it and glorify God. This is what >>>>>>o<<<\/ is symbolized when the twinkle lights shine on the tree like hundreds of bright, shining candles, each of them representing one of God's precious children, their light shining for all to see." Again Santa reached into his bag and this time he brought forth a tiny red and white striped cane. As he hung it on the tree he spoke softly. "The candy cane is a stick of hard white candy. _._ White to symbolize the virgin birth and sinless /\|/\ nature of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the /\/ )-| Solid Rock, the foundation of the church, and /\/ `" the firmness of God's promises. The candy cane /\/ is in the form of a "J" to represent the /\/ precious name of Jesus, who came to earth /\/ as our Savior. It also represents the /\/ crook of the Good Shepherd, which He uses `" to reach down into the ditches of the world to lift out the fallen lambs who, like all sheep, have gone astray. The original candy cane had three small red stripes, which are the stripes of the scourging Jesus received by which we are healed, and a large red stripe that represents the shed blood of Jesus, so that we can have the promise of eternal life. Teach these things to the children." ,...., ,;;:o;;;o;;, Santa brought out a beautiful wreath ,;;o;'''''';;;;, made of fresh, fragrant greenery and ,;:;; ;;o;, tied with a bright red bow. "The bow ;o;; ;;;; reminds us of the bond of perfection, ;;o; ;;o; which is love." "The wreath embodies ';;;, _ _ ,;;;' all the good things about Christmas ';o;;/_\/_\;;o;' for those with eyes to see and hearts ';;\_\/_/;;' to understand. It contains the colors '//\\' of red and green and the heaven-turned jgs // \\ needles of the evergreen. The bow tells |/ \| the story of good will towards all and its color reminds us of Christ's sacrifice. Even its very shape is symbolic, representing eternity and the eternal nature of Christ's love. It is a circle, without beginning and without end. These are the things you must teach the children." "But where does that leave you Santa?" I asked. The tears gone now from his eyes, a smile broke over Santa's face. "Why bless you, my dear," he laughed, "I'm only a symbol myself. I represent the _... spirit of family fun and the o_.-"` `\ joy of giving and receiving. .--. _ `'-._.-'""-; _ .' \`_\_ {_.-a"a-} _ / \ If the children are _/ .-' '. {c-.-o-.){\|` | taught these other things (@`-._ / \{ `~^~`} \\ _/ there is no danger that `~\ '-._ /'. } \} .-. I'll ever be forgotten." |>:< '-.__/ '._,} \_/ / ()) | >:< `'---. ____'-.|(`"` "I think I'm \ >:< \\_\\_\ | ; beginning to understand \ \\-{}-\/ \ at last." I replied. \ '._\\' /) '. /( "That's why I came," '97 `-._ _____ _ _____ __.'\ \ said Santa. "You're an jgs / \ / \ / \ \ \ adult. If you don't _.'/^\'._.'/^\'._.'/^\'.__) \ teach the children these ,==' `---` '---' '---' ) things, then who will?" `"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""` .:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~ >-->From Kidwarmers: __ .' '-. / '. / \ / \ | / | | / \ ( / '. )'. .'```--'`'-.__.-" / `\ / | | | '. / ) )_.' \ /'--""-...-'-.__/ '-/ , \ ;_ )`-. .( \ ."`` ` | `\ / | ; ; \ _| | _| '-. | '.(_/ \(_/ \ | __ | ; `'.__.- (._.) ._. / \ \ ) | /` `'. '. ( / ; '. `'-'-._` _.' / `. '-' / |`-. _.' _| `. '--;` jgs_.-""` `"=. .-._| / ` `-""-. \ ) `;-.__.--._ ._ .' / `""` `--`\ / \ >THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY Cheryl tells about visiting her neighbors on New Year's Eve. As they were getting ready to leave, Cheryl turned to Alex, 2, and said, "Happy New Year!" His mother said, "Alex, what do you say to Cheryl?" Alex looked at Cheryl and said, "Happy Reindeer!" -- Cheryl D. Fox of Monroe, Ohio Sara has been talking with her son Alex, 3, about God's gift of Baby Jesus. Alex has a baby brother. So many times while playing with the nativity he would point out the mommy, the daddy, the angel and baby Jeremiah, his brother. Sara had Alex repeat "baby Jesus" several times. The other night while preparing for bed, Alex said, "Mommy, let's talk about the mommy, the daddy, the angel and baby Gus!" -- Sara of Kentucky Dylan, 4, was helping his parents decorate their Christmas tree. When his father insisted that he put decorations all around the tree, Dylan asked, "Why put balls on the back of the tree, 'cause nobody cam see 'em." -- Dennis Smith (Dylan's PawPaw) of Oak Ridge, North Carolina _.--""""'. .' `\ / \ _/_ _,__ __ __/ | |`_o)/ ` ` | ; | )/o\> \ / ;"`""`""`"""`";.""-. .' .--._.--. / ' \ / / _ _ \ |'. '| / | / \ / \ | \__'/ ; .-' \o/ \o/ '-. ; | | () .-"""-. () | | ; | \ / | ; \ ; \ / ; / /`\ \ \ / / /`\ / .:`""--....Y....--::` .:\ \:' .:' .:' .:' .:'/| /'._.:' .:' .:' .:'.;':\ / ``;--::.___::.--;``` | \ / / \ |':.| ; | | \ ':| | | _..._ | \ \ | \ .' o o'. / |:. | \ './ o.-"-. o\.' \ ':.\ ;. `-; ;-' .;\ | | `-._ _/ \_ _.-' | |:. | | | ```\o (>0<)` /``` | |/__':/ ; \ '._/`\).' / ;77777 \ \ /```\ / / \ '. .' / \ `-.__ __.-' / '. ``` .' jgs /`-._ _.-'\ / , ``;---;`` , \ | / | | | | \ | '-'|__/\_/ \_/\__|'-' While going through her Christmas crafts books, Connie found a few scraps of paper onto which she had written down some of the wonderful things kids will say. One story was about Maggie, 7, when they spent Christmas in the U.S. They spent a day looking for a dress for the Christmas and New Year's parties and receptions. Connie found out they were even invited to a gathering that was going to have valet parking. When told about "valet parking," Maggie replied, "What color is the velvet?" -- Connie (mother of Maggie) of Vienna, Austria Connie tends to write a year's review and enclose it in their holiday cards. Maggie wanted to know what Connie was going to write about her. When Connie told her Maggie, who was 8 or 9, admonished, "You didn't mention that I have no more baby teeth left!" Obviously, for her that was a major milestone and worthy of the Christmas letter! Joan's family had their large annual gathering at Mamaw's house for Thanksgiving. It is the one time of year when everyone gets to see family members from far away. James, 8, kept saying, "My toy has AA batteries, my toy has AA batteries" over and over. Finally his cousin Taylor, 4, said, "James, will you stop repeating that. You are rattling my brain!" -- Joan Henry (great aunt of Taylor) of Sulphur Springs, Texas _...._ .' '. / _ _ \ | O O | ; ; .-;-. \ '--' / /\.7./\ .-. '. .' .-./\/ )/ (_ \ ) ( / _)/ ` \ '-' '-' /\/ '. () .'\/ | | |/ | () | ; ; | () | ; /\ ; _ / / \ \ _ jgs / ` .' '. ` \ \___.' '.___/ Tricia is constantly forgetting things. So she asks her children, Olivia, 7, and Ethan, 5, to remind her about things she needs to remember and they do a great job. One day she told Ethan to remind her to pay their insurance bill at State Farm. After a moment of silence he asked, "Mommy, do you think they will let me pet the cows?" -- Tricia Olmstead of Hillsdale, Michigan When Tom was little his parents were expecting their second child. Asked what he wanted (a sister or a brother?) he replied, "A dump truck!" -- Angela Hoover of Seattle, Washington Leah says the "girl cheese sandwich" story last week reminded her of her niece Chrissy who used to call fried eggs "frog eggs!" -- Leah of Tampa, Florida Here are some holiday stories from readers in year's past that I have enjoyed: ..'''::::... .::' `'''':::.. '...::' `.----. /_.--._\ , | =-| ,/ \,|=- | ,/ /`\ \, -| ,/ /'.-.`\ \, | ,/ /`//_|_\\`\ \| ,/ /` ||_|_|| `\;, ,/ /` ||_|_|| ,/ \, ,/ /` ==_ `-----',/ /``\ \, ,/ /` __| == ,/ /` ~~=`\ \, ,/ /`==_ _|___- ,/ /` ==-= `\ \, ,/ /` --= ,/ /` =-- `\ \, ,/ /` |__ .... = ,/ /o = .-""""-. =- o\ \, / /`| .'_.._'./ /;{_} .'.-""""-.'. {_}`\`\ |/` |_| =/.; || ;|/` ||:|/.' ____ '.\|:|| `\| | |/_|_||_|_\| |\:/|| /|__|\ ||\:/| | -=|| | || | || | | || |_|__|_| || |_| | , ||-|-||-|-||=| T || |_|__|_| || T | |/_\||_|_||_|_||-|' || .::. ||= | /_ (|| | || | || | =_|| /::::::\ || __P__ /_\ \|-|-||-|-|| | || |::()::| ||/\ | `\ `>/ _\\_|_||_|_||-|'|_|| \/`\/`\/ ||||_____| /_/ <---------' | ||()\_/\_/ ||/ || / ` \_ ( ==_ __| |_|_|| /\ \ || =_|| `/_) | _ <` _ | || /_/\_\ || || > / \ == _ = | || ||= || jgs /_/ ( \ `\ __ =|_|_||----------||_| || )-._/ _\ _,-(' __.;-'- `""""""""""` `||-. '-,._ \__.-`-;''` ``--'`""'""`""""`-- `-- ``` `""""`"""'"`""" ----' Danny, 8, told his dad some boys at school had told him that Santa was really his parents. So Danny's dad decided it was time to tell him the truth. And he told him about the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy while he was at it. Danny took it all in stride, but seemed kind of sad. Then he looked at his dad and said, "Yeah, and there ain't no turkey, either." -- Patsy Campbell of Portland, Tennessee It was about a week before Christmas and Danielle, 3, was helping her mother decorate Christmas cookies. The radio was belting out holiday tunes and they sang and danced as they frosted. Suddenly Danielle started pouting, and tears fell from her eyes. "Honey, what's wrong?" her mother asked. "They said Santa Claus is coming to town," Danielle said. "But we live in the country!" -- Darlene Buechel (mother of Danielle) of Chilton, Wisconsin Nakita's preschool teacher asked the children about all the people in the manger scene. All the children knew baby Jesus and most knew Mary and Joseph. But they were stumped about who the three men grouped together were. Then, with a smile on her angelic face, Nakita announced: "The Three Wise Guys!" -- Dusty (mother of Nakita) of Barberton, Ohio .-------. |# | __|_______|__ '-/ 0 0 \-' _ | V | \// \ '...' / ./== _o_ /`'.__ ,-'\ // .-'---'-. | `| \ // / _....._\ /'-.....\-._|// | / e.e \| ; | (/ '-. \| ._. // /| o \ | '-=_~ ( '-.__.-' `| / ; o | |.- _=_=~ .'`-_ _/ `\_// \ o _=' / ~ / / `)-.;_ |//\ .'.__ ,-_~_=`, \___\_/ / \ / / ~ ~ \ / '...\__./`\ / \ `-.,___/\___..-' ; ; | _ | | | |___|___| ; ; jgs / T \ \ / '---'---' '.__ __.' `` ' ``` Allen, 6, was on his way with his mother to see Santa Claus at school. They were talking about what they wanted for Christmas. When Allen asked his mother what she wanted, she said, "Peace and harmony." "Mom, what's a piece of harmony?" Allen asked. -- Jo Ann G. Usey (mother of Allen) of Knoxville, Tennessee Sherri, 10, told her mother she did not believe in Santa, and asked if she could open all her presents on Christmas Eve. It was obvious on Christmas morning that she was really disappointed that there was nothing else under the tree from "Santa," but she didn't say anything. A couple of months later she was shopping with her mother when she said, very seriously, "I may not believe in Santa, but I sure believe in that Easter Bunny!" -- Sharon Sausedo (mother of Sherri) of Hollister, Calif. ========================================================== >-->From Our Friends Jo Ann And Johanna :) As the parents and nation grieves this is a wonderful poem of comfort. _..._ _..._ /\_|_/. .\_|_/\ |-(` \/\ /\/ `)-| '/_> \/\ /\/ <_/' _ \/\/\/ _ /'-:_\/\/_:-'\ | '=_/``\_=' | | .= \__/ =. | \_.-'/;|\'-._/ /\/|'||\/\ jgs /\/ / || \/\ /\/ |_/ | \/\ /\/ \_\ \/\ \/ \/ >Poem For The Children Twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38, when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate. Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air, they could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there. They were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say, they remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day. "Where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse. "This is heaven." declared a small boy. "We're spending Christmas at God's house." When what to their wondering eyes did appear, but Jesus, their savior. The children gathered near. He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same, Then He opened His arms and He called them by name. And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring, those children all flew into the arms of their King. And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace, one small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face. And as if He could read all the questions she had, He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of mom and dad." Then He looked down on earth, the world far below, He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe. Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand, "Let My power and presence re-enter this land!" "May this country be delivered from the hands of fools." "I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!" Then He and the children stood up without a sound. "Come now my children, let me show you around." Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran, all displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can. And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight, "In the midst of this darkness, I am still the Light." ~Author unknown REMEMBER --- ...Thank You Ladies! -=====- -=====- _..._ _..._ .~ `~. .~` ~. ,_ / } { \ _, ,_\'--, \ _.'`~~/ \~~`'._ / ,--'/_, \'--,_`{_,} -( )- {,_}`_,--'/ '.`-.`\;--,___.'_ _'.___,--;/`.-`.' '._`/ |_ _{@} {@}_ _| \`_.' / ` |-';/ _ \;'-| ` \ / \ / | _ {@}_ | \ / \ / '--;_ _ {@} _Y{@} _;--' \ _\ `\ {@}\Y/_{@} Y/ /` /_ / |`-.___. / \Y/\|{@}Y/\|// \ .___,-'| \ ^^jgs^^`--`------'`--`^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^`--`'------`--`^^^^^^^ I saw on Foxnews that they have light armor for kids backpacks and people are buying them up like hotcakes. The trouble is, I think their backpacks were in their lockers as they had already started class. I believe the best way to protect our children is as Dr.Phil said and that is to instruct them what to do when bad things happen. Some parents are hugging their children because them ran behind the gunman and fled out of the room. Praise God they had the wherewithal to do so. But the automate protection for our little ones is God Almighty. We have to ask God for this. God cannot intervene in our lives without us asking him to do so. We have freedom of will. People think God allows this or that when the truth is that many times God's hands are tied because we failed to ask in the name of Jesus Christ for His help. Jesus teaches us to ask and it shall be given unto us. Pss.116 [15] Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints. Costly! God needs His children here on earth not sleeping! Why? Because... You Are The ONLY You God Has! http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/BibleStudy/onlyyougodhas.html See also... The Sleep Metaphor http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/BibleStudy/sleepmetaphor.html -<>- >-->From Our Friend Bunni :) _ *"_"* __ /`_`\ __ .' '. | / \ | .' '. , / ')\^_^/(' \ , \`--' . (_.> <._) . '--`/ '.__.' '._/ \_/ \_.' '.__.' / , _ , \ \ \_/|\_/ / \ //^\\ / \/` `\/ | | | | | | | | .. ..:::.| | ..::::. .. ..::::..::::... .::::::::| |:::::::::::::::. ::::::::::::::::::.:::::::::::| |:::::::::::::::::. ':::::::::::::::::::::::::::::| |::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::| |::::::::::::::::::' '':::' '::::::::::::::::\_.__./:::::::::::::::'' '':::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::' jgs '::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::'' '':::::'' '''::::::'' Just received this update on the Newtown Address for sending Condolences... The United State Postal Service sent out the following press release: NEWTOWN CONDOLENCES SHOULD BE SENT TO UNIQUE POST OFFICE BOX NEWTOWN, CT — The U.S. Postal Service has established a unique Post Office Box to allow the public to send condolences to those affected by the tragedy in Newtown CT last week. Those who wish to send expressions of comfort should address them to: Messages of Condolence for Newtown PO Box 3700 Newtown CT 06470 “We understand that there is an outpouring of support for everyone in the Newtown area and we hope to make it easier for those who wish to send encouragement and messages of compassion to those affected,” said Kimberly J. Peters, Connecticut Valley District Manager for the U.S. Postal Service, adding, “Through letters and cards, families will be able to hold that friendship in their hands and to read those kind words at a time and place that supports their pace of healing.” --- ...Thanks Bunches Bunni! May God Truly Help And Bless their family and friends through Jesus Christ our sweet Lord. Amen >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 ************************************************************************