Story Time! ... :) Shangy! >-->WELCOME To ALL Our NEW SHANGY FUN LIST Yahoo Group Members! >Here are the details on our Yahoo ShangyFunList: To Subscribe send a blank email to ShangyFunList-subscribe@yahoogroups.com Group home page: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ShangyFunList or Web Site: http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/ShangyFunList.html Group email address: ShangyFunList@yahoogroups.com or email me here: bcrsystems@earthlink.net ================================================================== |\ || \ | | | /.,, / ( / \ ( \ \ \_\__ .' '--._ ,__,-., WHEN YOU BELIEVE... / _";__( ,__._7 / ) \_ Y,=; \d ( _.' ~/ 6, '-, \___ ; ( _,-. Y) (C(/\. ) /I-._\(_'-' \_\_,-,_ /,,/ '-7) \ |"\_ \ ` \ _\ \_ \___ (` \_ '.<,_))) snd `-\,))) >Belief in One Race Story Editor: by Sheldon Campbell Joyce Schowalter California, USA It was 1958 in Deep Creek, Virginia. I was 6 years old, and my father was, like most fathers are to their sons, a superhero to me. It never occurred to me that he had a reason to fear anything, because he never showed any fear. My sister had come running into the house, hollering that a bunch of men with guns were outside. My dad took a look outside and his face darkened a bit. He stuffed his revolver in his back pocket and, as he went out the door, told us to go to the kitchen and stay there. My mom and my sister looked scared, and kept pulling me back as I tried to get to the window to watch. Although I never got a very good look, I remember seeing a lot of men, with rifles, shotguns and torches, some of them wearing white robes with hoods. There was a lot of shouting and a fair amount of cussing. Since my dad was a sailor, I recognized some of that. Finally I heard my dad tell them that if they didn't get off his property right then, and never come back, he'd guarantee that at least six of them would never see their families again. This had started when my father had intervened when a group of young bullies were roughing up a much younger black kid from down the road. These men were telling my dad that he was forgetting his place, and he'd better remember the way things were. My dad was white, raised in Meridian, Mississippi, during the depression, and he knew very well "how things were". But he had also shared foxholes in Guadalcanal, Iwo Jima, and Korea, with other soldiers, who were scared just like him, missing their families like him, and sick of killing like him. Some of them were white like him, and some of them were black, brown or yellow. But they all bled red just like him. And they all got cold, hungry, sick and sad -- just like him. My father never took his gun out of his pocket that day. But apparently, the men believed him because they left, grumbling and waving their guns. And they never came back. I wasn't old enough to know how dangerous the situation was that day. My father always taught me that all you really had to do was what you knew was right -- and then things would pretty much take care of themselves. He proved it that day, and on many other occasions. Dad was raised in a bigoted culture, by bigots, and taught how to act like a bigot. Everything about Mississippi in the Depression years screamed of racism. He was taught to believe in only one race. I guess all those foxhole buddies of his helped confirm that, because to the day he died, he only believed in one race: the Human Race. --- /\ , {Oo\{o\ .=. {o: \:.\ / \ {O:' \:.-'_.-\_)____ {o:. /`~('-./-----.\ }o: // /| `/\ {O:'// /-' /\/\ }o-/( <___ \'/ /\/\/\ /o./ ;--._)====* -\/\/\/ `"`\ \ /.\ `""` \ \ \ \ Together, We Take HeroicStories to the World jgs /`\ ) |/| | _// \| Help us continue to reach hearts and minds | / || |/ / | `\| via Our Summer 2007 Fundraiser ' Join in here: http://www.heroicstories.com/fundraiser2007.html =======HeroicStories====== >-->From Heartwarmers: _________________ |.---------------.| || _ || || |_)| |\ / || If only I went on-line... || |_)\_/ | || || , || ||__________|`.__|| jgs '-----------|_ r--' \\ >ON WINGS OF LOVE by Michael T. Smith I'd called Ginny before I left work. It was late -- almost 7pm. "Hi, Baby! I'm on my way! See you soon!" "Michael, I hate to do this to you, but could you stop by the store on the way home?" "Sure! No problem." I said. "I know you had a long day, but I really need you to go to the store." I used our only car to commute to work. "Hun, it's OK. What do you need?" ___________________ The shelf at the grocery store was filled with various brands of the item I searched for. Ginny said it had a picture of a red flower on it. I saw several with red flowers. A lady walked up, selected what she wanted and moved on. I continued to search. I finally gave up and called Ginny, "Hun, what brand did you say it was?" "It's the brand with a red flower on it." "Maxi with wings?" "Yes." "Hang on." I replied and searched the shelf. "Hun, I see one with a red flower, but it's not maxi and it doesn't have wings." A woman standing nearby smiled and pretended not to hear my conversation. "Gin, here's one with wings. It's not maxi though? Is that OK?" "No! Keep looking please. It has a red flower on the label. The one I want is maxi, long and has wings." I sighed. "Hun, I'm trying." I lowered my voice. A man stopped to get toothpaste from a shelf behind me. "Hun, I think I found them. Long, maxi, and with wings -- right?" "That's them!" Ginny replied. "Thanks, Darlin'!" I closed my phone, slipped it into my pocket and walked to the self-checkout. Three people were ahead of me, waiting for their turn at one of the four machines. I held my only purchase in my hand. The gentleman ahead of me turned and said, "Hi! Hot day, isn't it?" He saw what I carried and turned away. Men don't want to know. I just wanted to get out of there. A lady, two young children in tow, stepped up behind me and asked, "Is this the line for all the machines, or is there a line for each self-checkout?" I turned to face her, my only item in my hand. "This is the only line." She smiled. "Thank you," she replied and turned to her children. "Jason! Jason, don't hit your brother!" She turned back to me and smiled. "Kids!" "I know." I replied. "I know what it's like." She saw what I carried and turned away. Everyone knew why I was there. My wife had no privacy. I tucked my article under my arm. The man ahead of me stepped to a machine. A woman at the machine next to him swiped her bank card, punched in her password and made her purchase. _ |-| jgs |=| "^" ====`o It was finally my turn. I pushed the button on the screen, waited until the inhuman voice said, "Please scan your first item." I waved the barcode at the scanner. Nothing happened. I tried again. The scanner failed to pick up the code. Behind me, the lady with the two kids said, "Jason, get your finger out of your nose!" She looked at me. I knew the look. Her eyes said, "Will you please finish! I need to get these kids home!" The barcode didn't work. The machine couldn't read the code, probably because the plastic distorted the reading. "Can I help you?" The young lady working the self-serve section asked. "The machine won't read the code." I complained. "Let me see it!" she said and took the things with wings from my hand and forced the barcode against the glass screen. "Beep! Please place your purchase in the bag." the robot voice said. "Thank you." I said. My face turned a light shade of red. "Jason! How many times do I have to tell you? Get your finger out of your nose! And stop hitting your brother!" I heard as I grabbed my purchase, now hidden inside a bag. ___________________ "Thank you, baby," Ginny said to me, when I handed her the package. She gave me a hug. "No problem, Hun!" I hugged her back. "I don't mind at all. You know I'd do anything for you. I love my girl." -- Michael T. Smith ___________________________________________ Michael lives in Fort Lee, New Jersey with his beautiful wife, Ginny, and his son. Michael writes for a hobby and works as a project manager in the telecommunications industry. He is currently completing a collection of stories to be called, "From My Heart to Yours." To read more of Michael's stories or to sign up to receive his weekly story, go to: http://subs.zinester.com/86758/ ___________________________________________ -<>- _.._ /` __) _ ___ \ ( '> |-| |._ ___ ) )_< | | | | [___] (_/`\____ | | |_.' | ^| / \_____/) |-|___| | | / .-' _:::_))_(___ | |/'-./_ |___________| '-;_|\_____`\ ||"""""""""|| | `######||_ || || \ ._ _,'{~-}|| || _) ( {-_}|| || jgs /______`\ T\_\|| || >THE GERIATRIC ALPHABET A is for apple, and B is for boat, That used to be right, but now it won't float! Age before beauty is what we once said, But let's be a bit more realistic instead. A's for arthritis; B's the bad back, C's the chest pains, perhaps car-d-iac? D is for dental decay and decline, E is for eyesight, can't read that top line! F is for fissures and fluid retention, G is for gas which I'd rather not mention. H is high blood pressure--I'd rather it low; I is for incisions with scars you can show. J is for joints, out of socket, won't mend, K is for knees that crack when they bend. L is for libido, what happened to sex? M is for memory, I forget what comes next. N is neuralgia, in nerves way down low; O is for osteo, the bones that don't grow! P is for prescriptions, I have quite a few, just give me a pill and I'll be good as new! Q is for queasy, is it fatal or flu? R is for reflux, one meal turns to two. S is for sleepless nights, counting my fears, T is for Tinnitus; there's bells in my ears! U is for urinary; big troubles with flow; V is for vertigo, that's "dizzy," you know. W is for worry, NOW what's going 'round? X is for X-ray, and what might be found. Y is another year I'm left here behind, Z is for zest that I still have-- in my mind. I've survived all the symptoms, my body's deployed, And I am keeping twenty-six doctors fully employed! =================================================================== >--->From InspiredBuffalo: >Walking through life This is long but worth the read. Enjoy! Here's a good reason to keep walking! This is a wonderful piece by Michael Gartner, editor of newspapers large and small and president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing. Well worth reading. And a few good laughs are guaranteed. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ _ , __ __ __ __ __ -- -,_/\\_~0_\ ___ __ __ __ -- / ___ \- `___`"-, --- `"-( @ )----( @ )---` jgs '-' '-' ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ My father never drove a car. Well, that's not quite right. I should say I never saw him drive a car. He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet. "In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it." At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in: "Oh, bull----!" she said. "He hit a horse." "Well," my father said, "there was that, too." So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars -- the Kollingses next door had a green 1941 Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford -- but we had none. My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines, would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together. My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we'd ask how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother would explain, and that was that. But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of you boys turns 16, we'll get one." It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us would turn 16 first. But, sure enough, my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown. It was a four- door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents didn't drive, it more or less became my brother's car. Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but it didn't make sense to my mother. So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive. She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, and a generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving. The cemetery probably was my father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember him saying once. For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps -- though they seldom left the city limits -- and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work. Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of marriage. (Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.) He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin's Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was on duty that morning. If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the service and walking her home. If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and then head back to the church. He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Father Slow." After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along. If she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio. In the evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored." ________ /.--..--,\ //___||___\\___, #% / ,_, - ,_, \ jgs #%@# =(_/(_)\_____/(_)\__) If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out -- and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream. As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?" "I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre. "No left turns," he said. "What?" I asked. "No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most accidents that old people are in happens when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic. As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make a left turn." "What?" I said again. "No left turns," he said. "Think about it. Three rights are the same as a left, and that's a lot safer. So we always make three rights." "You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support. "No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It works." But then she added: "Except when your father loses count." I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing. "Loses count?" I asked. "Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a problem. You just make seven rights, and you're okay again." .---;-, __/_,{)|__;._ ."` _ : _ `. .:::;. .::' jgs '--(_)------(_)--' ` '::' I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked. "No," he said. "If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can't be put off another day or another week." My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided to quit driving. That was in 1999, when she was 90. She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died the next year, at 102. They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years later for $3,000. Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom -- the house had never had one. My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower cost nearly three times what he paid for the house. He continued to walk daily -- he had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he'd fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to keep exercising -- and he was of sound mind and sound body until the moment he died. One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide- ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news. A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, "You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." _......_ , __.-'\______\\'.______ >` '-`.--------'---`-`-`-. / .-. \________ "" .-. =\ jgs '---( o )------------( o )--' '-' '-' At one point in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not going to live much longer." "You're probably right," I said. "Why would you say that?" He countered, somewhat irritated. "Because you're 102 years old," I said. "Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day. That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night. He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said: "I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet." __ .' '. | STOP | '.__.' || || || \\||/// ^jgs^^^^^^^^^^^ An hour or so later, he spoke his last words: "I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have." A short time later, he died. I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so long. I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life Or because he quit taking left turns. To Subscribe send a blank email to: the-inspired-buffalo-subscribe@yahoogroups.com ==================================================================== >-->From The Archives of Roger Dean Kiser: .,ad88888ba,. .,ad8888888888888a, d8P"""98888P"""98888b, 9b d8888, `9888B ,d88aaa8888888b,,,d888P' d8888888888888888888888b Who's That Masked Man? d888888P""98888888888888P 88888P' 9888888888888 `98P' 9888888888P' `"9888P"' `"' Randy Ransom >THE LONE RANGER! Am I the only one who held a heavy heart or shed a tear when I heard that Clayton Moore (The Long Ranger) died several months ago? How deeply it hurt me when I barely saw him mentioned on the national news and then for less than one minute. Had this masked man passed a football, dribbled a basketball or thrown a baseball, I am sure he would have received five minutes or more of our precious valuable airtime and I am so ashamed of the news media. {) _, _/) /,`"/.|),___ (\.'//`<-' ,`+. `'_| > / |)) (.-)|--'\ < \( \)|| || ` /( /( SK How wonderful were the days when I, as a very young boy, looked up to a clean-cut honest hero, while living in that terrible abusive Jacksonville, Florida orphanage. Thank you so much masked-man for the honesty, integrity and kindness that you instilled in my lonely heart as an abused little boy. Oh, how much less the world has had to suffer because of a few caring people like yourself, who lived on this earth and touched my heart, and the hearts of other children searching for something special to believe in. Because of your honesty and kindness, and for living your entire personal life on this earth in the same manner as did the clean-cut, honest man that you portrayed on television. I have opened my heart, as have many other children and have learned much about how good human beings could be, if they really want to. More important than The Lone Ranger being Clayton Moore was the fact that Clayton Moore became "The Lone Ranger." You proved that to the entire world by the way you always conducted yourself as a gentleman in "real life." By the way you lived your personal life and by having become a true American role model and hero. One that the entire world was able to believed in and trusted, no matter how many years passed us by. Never once did you ever let us little kids down, even after we grew up and became adults. I will always respect you for that. Please accept this true "American Hero Award," which I carry in a very special place in my heart just for you. ______/``'``'-. (_ 6 \ .^ __ `'.__, | `'-. /_ \ / / :`^' /`/_` \/ / .' "/ `'- |.-'`^. `. Hi-ho SILVER.... And Away! / .`-._ \ `'^^^ /`/' \ \ "" \ `. `\ `. `\/ \-'-.- / /`. `-. ( /' ) .^ \ \\ .'^. `. \ > > `` `. ) // / .` /`/ gnv "" -- Little Roger The darnedest thing happened to me after I wrote this story. I received an email from Clayton Moore's nephew, who thanked me for the story. The next morning, I went to Books-a-million to purchase Mr. Moore's book entitled "I was that masked man." They did not have it in stock so I had them order the hard cover edition for me, so I could save it as a souvenir. They told me that it would take about two weeks for the book to come in from their warehouse. Several days later, my wife and I were invited to dinner (in another town) for our anniversary. Next door to the restaurant was a little bookstore and for some strange reason, I had the urge to walk in. I entered "The Book Mart" on Saint Simons Island, Georgia and asked the gentleman (Brion Trainor), if he might possibly have Mr. Moore's book in stock. I purchased the hard cover edition and then placed it in my car. Then we walked over to the restaurant to eat dinner. Later that evening, I took the book out of the bag and began to wrap it in plastic so it would be protected. I stopped for a moment and opened the front cover. To my amazement, there was Clayton Moore's autograph staring me right in the face. I absolutely could not believe what I was seeing before me. The next day, I contacted the publisher (Taylor Publishing) in Dallas, Texas and confirmed that the signature was in fact authentic. Thank you, sir. Your book and signature will forever be one of my most prized possessions. You certainly have me thinking about my life and I am considering making some major changes to that life, mainly because of this one unusual incident. I can only tell you that I am truly, truly honored. Roger Dean Kiser, Sr. -<>- >ZIP-A-DEE DOO-DAH _ _(_)_ wWWWw _ @@@@ (_)@(_) vVVVv _ @@@@ (___) _(_)_ @@()@@ wWWWw (_)\ (___) _(_)_ @@()@@ Y (_)@(_) @@@@ (___) `|/ Y (_)@(_) @@@@ \|/ (_)\ / Y \| \|/ /(_) \| |/ | \ | \ |/ | /\ | / \|/ |/ \| \|/ jgs|/// \\|/// \\\\|//\\|///\|/// \\\|// \\|// \\\|/ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "There it is,” I softly muttered, as I stood motionless moving my eyes back and forth in disbelief. After almost 50 years, I could hardly believe that I, Roger Kiser, was actually standing in front of the gate leading into that wonderful place called "Disneyland" (World). After finishing a book signing in Tampa, Florida some friends of my wife and I asked if we would like to go and see Disney World. Pam had started working for the Disney Corporation several months prior and had several free passes. We entered the gate and began to walk around the grounds. I must say that I was not very impressed with what I saw. "I really thought it would be a lot more colorful than this. Sort of like the Ringling Brothers Circus or something like that," I said to Craig. "This is it," he responded as he moved his arm from left to right across the skyline. I followed his finger until it stopped and pointed at the giant castle. The same castle I remembered seeing on the little black and white television as a young boy living in the orphanage in Florida. "Now that is really pretty," I thought. We walked around for a while and then rode several rides. I did my very best to act as though I was enjoying myself. But there was just something about this place that was not very happy to me and I could not quite put my finger on it. Next we headed to "Frontier Land" and decided the four of us would tackle the "Splash Mountain" ride. We sat down in the hollowed-out, log-style boats and began our slow, down-stream journey inside the dark mountain. We traveled very slowly from cavern to cavern looking at the various brightly lit cartoon characters. Between the caverns there was nothing except total darkness. Suddenly, off in the distance I heard the sound of music and the words, "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay. My, oh my, what a wonderful day. Plenty of sunshine headin' my way. Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay." I tried to fight off a feeling of sadness that was coming over me. All of a sudden, a picture came into my mind - a picture of four lonely little boys sitting in the television room at the orphanage watching the Disney program on a Sunday evening way back in 1952. I had long forgotten the part of the song that went, "My, oh my, what a wonderful day. Plenty of sunshine headin' my way." I could see in my mind, all of us boys looking at each other as the tune played and the tears welled in each other’s eyes. Not one boy said a single word. We just sat there in our own little individual spaces and cried our little eyes out. I wiped the tears out of my eyes before we hit the light, so my wife and friends would not see the little boy inside of me crying. When we exited the mountain, we slid down a long chute, which splashed cold water all over my wife as we hit the bottom of the little river. I smiled and then laughed real loud, just like a happy little boy would do and enjoyed the remainder of the day at Disneyland (World). It was very dark when we finally walked out the gates of Disneyland later that evening. I looked over at my wife and my two special friends. I thought about my children and grandchildren, and instantly understood, "My, oh my, what a wonderful day. Plenty of sunshine headin' my way." CLICK HERE to order an autographed copy of"ORPHAN" http://www.geocities.com/trampolineone/survive/srv080.htm CLICK HERE to order "ORPHAN" Online http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1580624480/thesadorphan/102-0205647-5135317 Visit Roger's Site here: http://www.rogerdeankiser.com/ =========================================================================== >-->From SermondFodder: >Think About It == <^\()/^> \/::\/ jgs /::\ `''` - The journey of a thousand miles begins wwith a broken fan belt and a leaky tire. - It's always darkest before dawn. So if yyou're going to steal the neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it. - Never test the depth of the water with bboth feet. - It may be that your sole purpose in lifee is simply to serve as a warning to others. - If you think nobody cares if you're alivve, try missing a couple of car payments. - If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything. - If you lend someone $20, and never see tthat person again; it was probably worth it. - Some days you are the bug, some days youu are the windshield. - If at first you don't succeed, skydivingg is not for you. - Never ask a barber if he thinks you needd a haircut. - To the world you might be one person, buut to one person you might be the world. - Going to church does not make you a Chriistian anymore than going to McDonald's makes you a hamburger. - A coincidence is when God performs a mirracle, and decides to remain anonymous. - Sometimes the majority only means that aall the fools are on the same side. - Life is like an onion; you peel off one layer at a time and sometimes you weep. - Learn from the mistakes of others. You ccan't live long enough to make them all yourself. - Following the path of least resistance iis what makes rivers and men crooked. - Life is 10% of what happens to you, and 90% of how you respond to it. -<>- _ === _ / \(_)/ \ | / \ | | \\ // | \_/ \_/ .--" / \ `"-. ( ( '.___.' ,') (__,-. )--' jgs '.____)--' >CLOSET ANGEL Now that their children are grown, Cindy and Jim Hawkins run a closet organizer business out of their home. A few years ago, they moved to a house in a new community, and of course, the closet business came too. Cindy was nervous about the move; it would be hard to build up a new base of customers, she knew, since their business was not known in the area and there was plenty of competition. Leads had so far been scarce, almost non-existent. What if they didn't find any new work? Their future depended on it. One Wednesday afternoon Jim had an appointment to give an estimate, so Cindy decided to go along too. While Jim went into the house, she sat in the van and read Where Angels Walk. "I have a lot of faith in God and prayer," she says, "but at the time, I didn't think about angels much. I was reading the book to learn more about them." She couldn't imagine that angels would be all that interested in a closet organizer business, but she was so engrossed that she didn't hear anyone approaching the van. She jumped when she heard a tap on the window. It was a man, probably wondering why a truck like hers would be parked in the neighborhood. She had noticed the "No Solicitation" signs as they drove along, but they weren't soliciting… The area was very quiet and for just a moment, Cindy was afraid. But, no. "I'm a construction worker," the man told Cindy. "I'm working on this street. Grab a pen, will you?" Cindy did. "Write down this telephone number," the man went on. Mystified, Cindy did. "Is this your number?" she asked. "No, it's the number of the family I was working for today," he explained, pointing to nearby house, also under construction. "They're only here on Wednesdays, so I saw them today and they asked me if I knew where they could buy closet organizers. I saw your truck parked right there………." "Oh yes!" Cindy was astonished and amazed. "I'll send my husband right over as soon as he's finished here. And thank you, thank you SO much!" It turned out to be the special job they needed, Cindy says. "Jim received many referrals from that job, and he ended up working for about 80% of all the new homeowners---which kept us financially stable for two years." Despite Cindy's frequent presence around the neighborhood, she never saw the construction worker again. Now that they are planning a move to Atlanta, she knows she probably never will. But he came when she needed him most. "I was packing the truck and noticed that the book, Where Angels Walk, is still in the pocket of the door," Cindy said recently. "We are hoping it works out just as well in Atlanta…" …..Copyrighted 2006 "Where Angels Walk" (Joan Anderson – (www.joanwanderson.com) (joan@joanwanderson.com) by way of "Christian Voices" (www.ChristianVoicesWorldwide.com) (CVWorldwide@wmconnect.com) Brought our way by CUP O'CHEER. To join drop a note to cheer316@sc.rr.com with SUBSCRIBE CUP O CHEER in the subject line. To subscribe send an e-mail to: Sermon_Fodder-subscribe@yahoogroups.com ==================================================================== >-->From AndyChaps: -====- .--._ ( __) .--. ( / -( /.-. \( | _/ / /-'\ \) (\ /\ / /-'/`\(_ ) ) /\/ /_/-'/-' \\ '-' / /_/-'/-' | '.__.' /_/-'/-'/ | /_/-' | \ / \ _.-' \ (` / jgs '----'`'------' ** WHEN JESUS LOOKS ** When Jesus looks upon my life, What picture does He see. Does He see His own reflection, Or does He just see me. Does He see His likeness, The product of His hand. Or just another Christian, Who never took a stand. Does He see a child of God, A child that He set free. Living life to honor Him, Or does He just see me. What about the other folks, I meet along the way. Do I show them Jesus, To brighten up their day. When someone looks into my eyes, Can they truly see. That calm and gentle peace of God, That dwells inside of me. When I reach out and shake a hand, Is He right there in my grip. Can they feel that strength from God, That steadies when I slip. When folks are in my presence, Do they know His Spirit's there. Can they see that He's the one, Who guides me everywhere. When other people think of me, What is on their mind. Do they think of Jesus Christ, So gentle and so kind. I try to be like Jesus, Every single day. Spreading love and kindness, All along my way. I'm afraid that I have failed, I could not pass the test. Deep inside my heart I know, I haven't done my best. I have had to fight my flesh, Since the day that I was born. It's always causing trouble, And being such a thorn. That's why His Spirit dwells in me, He's helping me to learn. In every situation, Where I need to turn. He knew I'd never pass the test, That's why He took my place. He gave His life to save my soul, He suffered my disgrace. Now I try to be like Him, I must present Him well. So other folks will want His gift, And turn their backs on hell. Other folks should see the joy, That Christ has given me. They should want to have it too, Especially since it's free. They should begin to ask me, What is it they must do. Just how it is they go about, Getting Jesus too. Then I get to tell them, This wondrous gift is free. It only takes a humble heart, A prayer on bended knee. Someday when I'm face to face, With the Lord who set me free. Will He see His own reflection, Or will He just see me. --By Chick Velasco It is so easy to get distracted and let the world lure and entice us. The enemy has many ways to get God's people focused on other things and get off the main objective; To serve the Lord and be an example to others, just as Jesus set for us when He was on the Earth. I encourage you to be strong and never let this world system get you worried or ashamed of who you are. If Jesus is on your side then why would you let anyone make you feel unworthy or not well equipped to serve and be a witness unto the Lord? , , /////| ///// | ///// | |~~~| | | |===| |/| | B |/| | | I | | | | B | | | | L | / | E | / |===|/ jgs '---' Read and meditate on these scriptures and let God's Word inspire and encourage you: Galatians 2:20 "I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." KJV Philippians 1:20-21 "According to my earnest expectation and hope that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain." NKJV Ephesians 6:10-13 "Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand." KJV In Christ Service, Dwayne Savaya Gods Work Ministry <> ======================================================================== >-->For Classic Car Lovers From Our Friend Steve :) / : \ / : \ / : ___ \ / : /___\ \ / : ." | ". \ / : (o_|_o) \ jgs/ : u u \ / : \ I was driving up the street about two blocks from home and Wowsers. A parking lot almost filled with beautifully restored classics and a flawless '32 A-bone custom. I finished driving home, got the camera and came back. I had a nice chat with one of the fellows working there and was invited to come back anytime. They were loading them on a very big rig (notice in the picture below two trailers two levels in each. They were loading that beautiful Pontiac Bonneville while I was there. They drove it in from the back and went clear to the front of the front trailer. The silver one is one of the very few real Shelby AC Cobra's left in the world. These were built clear back in my Heyday the early '60's. I visited the plant where these were built. The blue Camero and engine belong to Reggie Jackson (the engine alone is a special one-off valued at $32,000). All the vehicles belong to different member of the bucks-up crowd. --- ...Wow - that's pretty cool Steve! I've posted these pictures in our Yahoo Club in the 'Photos from Steve' Folder for all to enjoy! - Thanks Steve! TO VIEW THESE: Visit our Group, Logon, Click on Photos on the left hand side and view the last 6 ones starting with "Classic Cars 1" from Steve... http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ShangyFunList/ ========================================================================= >-->From Petwarmers: CATCHING THE PET "BUG" by Patricia Collier ."";._ _.---._ _.-"". /_.'_ '-' /`-` \_ \ .' / `\ \ /` \ '. .' / ; _ _ '-; \ ;'. _.' ; /\ / \ \ \ ; '._;._ .-'.--. | / | \0|0/ \ | '-. / /` \ | / .' \ | .---. \ | | | / /--' .-"""-. \ \/ \ | \ \ / / / ( , , ) /\ \ | / \ '----' .' | '-(_)-' | | '. / / `'----'` | '. | `'----'` jgs \ `/ '. , .' `-.____.' '.____.-' \ / '-' "Viral marketing" is a fairly new term, coined by Internet marketing gurus. At first, it sounds sort of questionable, like something you might contract just by listening to a telemarketer rave about aluminum siding. Of course, it is not a disease, but rather a way of promoting a service or product by actually giving the masses a sample of that service or product. People then can't help but pass the sample along to others, or at least tell others about the sample, thus giving the service or product even further exposure. It's the kind of "word of mouth" advertising that's about as free and easy as you can get. I guess you could say I've been using viral marketing techniques for years in my efforts to let everyone I meet know about the sheer delight of living with companion animals. When I was younger, I was actively zealous. I was so sure that every person in the world needed a pet, I proclaimed it from the mountaintops until I learned a couple of cold, hard facts: 1) Not all people like animals and, 2) Not everyone should be allowed to have a pet. These days, I don't force the issue. I certainly don't want to match up a feline with a human who does not have the patience to deal with an occasional overturned flower vase (filled with water, of course!) Nor would I care to have a hand in someone complaining about all the attention a new puppy is requiring from their spouse, as the pup increasingly becomes at risk for relocation, or worse, from the jealousy. That doesn't mean I have given up on my campaign to join needy animals with deserving humans. It does mean I now "show" the joy by "passing it along." A visitor to our home is greeted by six noisy, but well-behaved dogs. Their initial chorus of barks means they are guarding the house for the two resident cats, and, oh yes, for me and my husband, too -- I think! When our red Blazer is seen around town, all the dogs are usually on board. I think the folks at the Wendy's drive-thru window enjoy seeing the six lolling grins as much as the dogs like smelling the food, and the ladies at the bank never fail to pass out the doggie treats. Each member of our little crew of critters has a different personality, so life around here is never dull. Generous, priggish, lazy, energetic, manipulative, mischievous, shy, demanding -- we've got one of each. My friends tell me they frequently regale others with stories about our companion animals' latest antics. One told me her hairdresser adopted a Dachshund mix from the local animal shelter because she'd heard about our two so often she knew she'd love the breed. An attorney friend of ours signed adoption papers for a Border collie from a local rescue after watching pie-eyed as I tossed Frisbees with my two in the backyard. He had a Lassie-type collie when he was a kid, but the dog had died of old age and he swore he'd never "go through that again." An acquaintance from work, who now lives in another city, and who had never before shared her home with an animal, recently acquired an abandoned kitten from a shelter there. She said she finally broke down after hearing about how my youngest cat likes to lay on the curve of my hip at night and purr and gurgle and how nice that feels, especially when I am having trouble getting to sleep. She told me just yesterday how her kitten now licks her nose to awaken her in the mornings and yes, how nice that feels. Uh huh. Well, it appears my viral marketing plan is working just fine. -- Patricia Collier ____________________________________________ Patricia, from Florida, says, "What wonderful ambassadors animals make for themselves! My husband, Chris, and I have several other beautiful dogs and cats waiting for us at Rainbow Bridge and it's truly been an honor to share our lives with each of them." ====================================================================== >-->Quotes: "A friend is one before whom I may think aloud." -- Ralph Waldo Emmerson "I have never in my life learned anything from any man who agreed with me." -- Dudley Field Malone "Christianity is unquestionably a personal experience. It is equally unquestionably not a private experience" -- William Barclay "Continuous learning is the minimum requirement for success in your field." -- Brian Tracy "The loving service which God sends His people into the world to render includes both evangelism and social action, for each is in itself an authentic expression of love, and neither needs the other to justify it. -- John R. W. Stott "Face your deficiencies and acknowledge them; but do not let them master you. Let them teach you patience, sweetness, insight." -- *Helen Keller (1880-1968) "Learn how to separate the majors and the minors. A lot of people don't do well simply because they major in minor things." -- Jim Rohn ---> Visit my CyberHome - ALWAYS OPEN HOUSSE :)Shangy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ http://www.ShangralaFamilyFun.com/index.html Shangrala ------------------------------------------------------------------------ -->Bigham's Computer Rescue - PC Sales & SService 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 DDARE 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: a href="http://tinyurl.com/2vrfzv">This Weeks regular Shangy emails ************************************************************************ -->Want to ADVERTISE in The Shangy FUN Lisst Publication? >To ADVERTISE: Advertise ************************************************************************ -->Missed Any of These Teachings? 'BABES IIN CHRIST','IN The Beginning', 'Crossing The Line','NEVER Give Up', 'FEAR - Feeling Kind Of Buggy', 'HAUNTINGS', 'Christianity And The Renewed Mind', or 'Curse Of The Law' --BE SURE TO Tell me which one you want orr you'll get them all :) >For a Lesson: Teaching ************************************************************************