Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

Today’s Queue Stories

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Looking for the child in me!

Norma Liles

He is my delight, so cute and cuddly; doesn't require special foods.  I'm speaking of my favorite cartoon character, Tweety Bird.

I call Tweety my mascot as I need someone to encourage me when my 'pen in hand' has become dry.  I can look across at my small collection of that sweet little bird and my fears of the loss of thought seems to diminish.

When my family realized that I had a fetish for this little fella, they made it their mission to add another to my lonely one.  We were attending a street festival and one of the booths would part with one if the participant could qualify when their ball strikes the intended target. From this venture, I became the proud owner of two more: patterned after an angel and one of a young boy

I have added one more little fella from my secret pal and yet another from a yard sale.  For my birthday last year, my sister gave me a little ceramic  one holding a birthday cake.  On top of that, I am the proud owner of a Tweety keychain, dollar, footies and a video, no less.  Don't you think it is high time that I purchased a mousepad to reflect his image, too?   (sh!)

Today, I spoke with a niece who lives in another town.  While we were chatting, the topic came up about my love for Tweety.  She had a good laugh as she said: "I guess there is a kid in all of us?"  What can I say?  I love the little birdie!

NormaLee Liles ©

hoopla214@yahoo.com

Norma Liles is a retired data entry

clerk/supv who is 76, a native of Ohio

and still resides there. She is very

outgoing and loves to make new friends! 

Her hobbies are: writing poetry and

stories, living for Jesus, reading,
enjoying her family, and her use of

her computer.Her ambition is to add

pleasure to those who read her writings

as well as sharing her faith. She enjoys

Southern Gospel Music and loves to sing.

Her writings have been published on Starfish,
Driftwood, Sandollar, Morning Spirit Lift,

 PrayerofGod, Jan Karon'snewsletter,

American Poetry Writer's league,
Lucy's Inspiration, Faithful Hope reading room,
Poetry of Today publishing, Hope in Him,
Bonnie's Place, America will remember,
News Moose & Penworm prayer warriors as well as

a senior writer for Storytime Tapestry.

~**~**~

After the applause, make time for words of praise!

Keith Ready

Any form of presentation, speech or address no matter how long or short it is can be challenging and nerve racking, particularly if you are not use to standing on your feet and talking in front of an audience. I am very fortunate in that I have been doing presentations and conducting training programs for many years, so I have got use to the challenge and nerves or butterflies in the stomach that always emerge and swell up inside of you in the days, hours and minutes before you speak.

The challenges, nerves and butterflies are always a good thing for me in so much as it gets my adrenaline working and allows me to channel my energy and enthusiasm into what I want to say and the message I have been asked to deliver. However, I have never really thought very deeply about how much of my energy it takes to do any form of public speaking.

Just recently I had the pleasure of speaking at a conference about the key success factors in business and as usual in the weeks and days prior to my presentation I spent considerable time researching and reviewing what I wanted cover, as well as preparing the structure and content of what was an hour and a quarter presentation.

When I was young, my mother and father regularly said to me that 'the early bird catches the worm', so as I have always done, I arrived early at the conference centre so that I could make sure that everything I needed for my presentation was on hand and check out the venue, as well as prepare myself for my presentation. This completed, I then had time to speak to a number of the delegates who had also arrived earlier than the scheduled starting time of my presentation.

I have always measured the level of success of my presentations by the applause and comments that I receive from those people in the audience. On this occasion I spoke in the session leading up to the morning break, so after the applause had ended and the MC thanked me, I had the opportunity to personally speak to nearly all of the delegates.

The last delegate I spoke with greeted me by taking my hand, shaking it and saying how much she enjoyed my presentation, and that she had got of lot of helpful and practical tips to use in her business. For some reason as we continued to talk she did not let go of my hand and then placed her other hand just above my wrist and increased the pressure of her hand shake, whilst gently squeezing my arm with her other hand.

She went on to say that I had put so much of myself into the presentation that she hoped that my energy levels would not suffer for the rest of the day and she wanted in some way to return the energy I had given out. She smiled at me whilst she said this and then let go of my hand and went to join her colleagues for morning tea.

Usually an hour or so after any presentation that I give, I feel quite exhausted and I know that this is directly related to what I put into what I do and the up shot of using a lot of nervous energy, however, on this occasion, the opportunity for me to receive the words of thanks from the delegates gave me a genuine lift and recharged my batteries. The icing on the cake that gave me an even bigger energy lift was the words of support and encouragement from the delegate with the very firm handshake.

This experience at the end of my presentation also made me realise that what we give out in life can come back to us and equally, we all need and value receiving positive feedback and praise when and where it is warranted and deserved.

A business associate who works in the field of leadership and people development refers to the word 'Praise' as an anagram, although some may consider it to be an acronym for - People Really Are Into Sensational Efforts, and he goes on to say that all people need is regular praise and encouragement for them to reach new heights in all aspects of their personal and business life.

As I drove away from the conference I reflected on how fortunate I had been to receive all those words of appreciation and praise for what I had done that morning and how refreshed and energised I felt.

Inspired by a firm handshake and all the genuine words of appreciation and praise. Written by Keith Ready 

© June 2006

Keith Ready is an Australian based business adviser and trainer whose specialty is working with his clients to improve top and bottom line business performance in a measurable way, through people. Keith is also known as Mr Inspiration and is publisher of InspirEmail which provides inspirational messages to refresh the spirit and boost the emotional bank account. 

You can visit his website at www.agiftofinspiration.com.au www.agiftofinspiration.com.auand he can be contacted via e-mail at info@agiftofinspiration.com.au

~**~**~

By Chance or Providence

The Story

Mary Carter Mizrany

This Easter morning found Molly Carter sitting alone on the front porch of her tiny duplex apartment.  The morning sky was ablaze with billowing white clouds.  The sun, peeking from behind one, reminded her of a small lamb.  Easter had always been special for Molly.  It had been a time for family togetherness’ and great ‘made-from-scratch’ southern home cooking, but this holiday she thought she would be spending it alone as she did so many other holidays.   She thought back to a time when she was secure in a family full of warm, nurturing love.  She grew up in a time when people never locked their doors; they walked everywhere.  They were trusting people, and you could count on your neighbors for just about anything.  People came to visit without an invitation and without telephoning.  It was war time in America.  Molly recalled the ‘black-outs’.  Every night lights in the city were extinguished.  Ration stamps were used to purchase fuel and sugar.  Families were close.  Those were her happy memories.  

Sunday was a day for worshiping together and fellowship.  Preparations were made on Friday for Easter.  She thought about her mother bustling around like a bee readying their clothes and their home for company.  Molly’s frilly new red dress had been chosen carefully by her mother.  The stiff white petticoat caused the skirt part of her dress to flare out.  Her hats were often white, decorated with red plastic cherries that didn’t taste very good when she bit into them. This was her tiara.  Her black patent leather shoes were always shined to a lustrous sheen with white bread.  (Sometimes her mother used a biscuit). She felt like a little princess.  Molly was brought back from deep thought when a young couple, who lived in the end apartment, called to her.  “Hi.  How are you this morning?”  Molly knew the couple only in passing.  “Great. How are you?  My name is Emma Wilson and my husband’s name is Paul” “What’s your name?” “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Molly Carter.” “Do you have plans for the week-end?” Emma asked, “We didn’t see the young girl that stays with you this morning; is she your daughter?” “Yes. She’s my youngest child.  She’s visiting relatives, and I haven’t made any plans.”  “Then why don’t you come with us to my parent’s home in Cincinnati?  They won’t mind.”  “Are you sure?  I don’t want to put anyone out.” “I’m sure.”  Molly readily accepted.  Molly was a police officer, and she of all people, should have been more cautious. They could have been serial killers for all she knew.  She was putting her hand in the hand of the Almighty. 

Molly’s parents were still very much alive, but they lived two states away in Tennessee.

It would be impossible for her to make the four-hundred and some mile trip, both ways, and be back for work on Tuesday.  She felt empty.

Two of her children lived with their father fifty miles away.  They had chosen to stay with him, and their stepmother, after her divorce from their father.  For the last three years they had chosen to distance themselves from her.  If they only knew the truth about their father, and the reason she had no choice but to divorce him, they might have a change of heart.  Molly prayed that one day, when they became adults with families of their own, they would discover the truth about their father.  She prayed that their eyes would be opened before it was too late.  Molly couldn’t fathom people who professed to be Christians behaving this way.  Her father had admonished her to ‘marry in the church’ but he omitted the part about marrying a truly converted Christian.   Jeff’s father had been a minister, and they attended church services faithfully.  She wanted her marriage to last as long as her parents and grandparents had; forever-always-four-days-and ten-minutes’.  Their church family, elders and deacons included, didn’t know her husbands dark side.  When she finally called it quits, her father turned against her believing her husbands words over her own.  She had so many unanswered questions.

“We’ll be leaving around o’clock; can you be ready by then?” “One o’clock is fine; I’ll be ready.”  The three hour drive went by quickly.  Emma’s family welcomed her with open arms.   “I would like to go to church tomorrow.  Is there a Church of Christ in this area?” Molly asked. “Not that we are aware of.” So she picked up the telephone directory and began her search. There were so many to choose from.  Molly closed her eyes and pointed to one.  Emma laughed.  “That’s funny.  My brother drives the Baptist van and he goes right by there.  I’ll ask him if he can drop you off.”  The following morning, as he delivered her all eyes were riveted on the van.  The look on their faces was priceless.  During class she discovered they knew the same people.  One couple had a cousin that, at one time, had been her parent’s best friend.  “Betsy and her husband are coming down from Springfield today. Why don’t you come home with us and surprise them?” It had been at least twenty years since she had seen Betsy and Delbert.  “We’ll take you back home after services tonight.”  What a small world.  When Molly walked into the large, spacious farm house she saw Delbert first.  He nearly fell out of the chair he was sitting in.  One would have thought he had seen a ghost.  As they settled into conversations of the past, Molly would get all the answers she had been searching for.  Only God was aware of these questions.  Only He could have engineered this encounter.  Her heart had finally found the peace she had been searching for.  Was this by chance or was it providence?

Mary Carter Mizrany

musingbymary@aol.com

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Poetry Section

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A Wonderful May

Joyce Lock

May the joy of being alive

Be the start of every morning.

May you experience Sonshine

On even the cloudiest of days.

May you see God's wonders

In places you hadn't thought to look.

May you always remember ~

You are God's greatest treasure.

May you thoroughly enjoy this day

And have A Wonderful May.

© by Joyce C. Lock

~**~**~

Beautiful

 Joyce Lock

If you want to feel beautiful, from without and within,
Remember you're royalty and chosen by Him.

If you want to be beautiful, so your face really glows,
Just let Jesus take over and let His love show.

When you do not feel beautiful, there is sin in your life.
If that isn't the reason, then Satan has lied.

© by Joyce C. Lock

~**~**~

Beauty Tips

Joyce Lock

It takes less muscles to smile than to frown.
It is worth looking up instead of down ...

Because, if you keep smiles upon your face,
It will keep wrinkles from taking their place.

Singing is something that's even more good.
Joining the choir, we sure wish you would.

I guess you do know the reason for this.
When some look older, you'll still be a dish.

But, in the meantime, you'll make some new friends;
Maybe, some that you will keep to the end.

© by Joyce C. Lock

~**~**~

Becoming One ...

 Joyce Lock

Two individuals, walking alone,

Reach out to take God's hand:

A joining of hearts to what His will is;

Melting their hearts as His own.

© by Joyce C. Lock

And the glory which thou gavest me I have given them;
that they may be one, even as we are one:
John 17:22

Senior Writers

Chief writer: Sharon Bryant

Chief researcher/historian: Hartson Dowd

Agee, Vance; Apted, Violet; Baker, Kathy; Batt, Al; Berry, Nell; Blaine, Pamela; Boda, Ginger; Booher, Paula; Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.; Costner, Joan Clifton; Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark; Dees, Mary; Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria;

Dowd, Hartson; Dowd, Helen; Gilbert, Robert, Jr.; Gold, Ron; Goodier, Steve; Braun-Haley, Ellie; Harris, Kathy Anne; Henry, Linda Ann; Hunt, Sharlett; Hymes, Christina; Jacobson, Gary; Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Kevin, Tim; Jenkins, Pamela; Liles, Norma; Lily Jodi Flesberg; Lock, Joyce; Marlor, Janice Bumbalough; Mazzella, Joe; Morris, Deepak; Ojeibge, Georgewaters; Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan; Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Streidel, Saskia; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan; Walker, Bill; Walker, Joe; Warner, Gordon, K; Walsh, Sue; Weymouth, Barbara J.; Whirity, Kathy;

Wainland, David; Westerfer, Clara; White Robert;

Storytime Tapestry Staff

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer – moderator

Bob Johnston - moderator