Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

October 8, 2006

Today’s Queue Stories

~**~**~

Bitter

Bill Walker

missourisage@yahoo.com

In this life, there is many things to happen that can make a sweet person bitter. Some times we find a bitter person even turns more bitter with each passing day. I think we all know of some one that has ever right to be bitter. Life has been very unfair to them.

I am thinking this morning of many things that has happened in the past couple weeks, and the way people is handling their heavy burdens.  I also am thinking of a young fellow I know of, who happened to have a great wrong done to him, and how he seems to be handling it.

It is very easy to blame God for things bad that happens.  We are told that God is in control.  That may be true, I think over all control, yes, maybe no. There is a few things one must factor in when thinking, is God in control?

If you remember, and this takes some reading on any ones part. When God set up this world, there was a plan, God's plan.  The problem is there was another with a plan.  A plan to wreck God's plan.  His name is Satan. Now I am not smart enough to understand just when this guy Satan kicked up his troubles, but he got the brain storm he was as big as God. God became upset with Satan and his band of trouble makers, and kicked them out of Heaven.  Satan and company set up shop on the place we know as EARTH. 

Now the Bible tells about earth and how it and all other things was made. Man and woman is made.  This man and woman is given full control over many things.  Also told a few rules to go by. A few don't, that is.  Now you can take your children, and tell them a few don't.  It isn't but a few minutes later and you will find your children saying,  "whats with this don't stuff ?"  Tell them don't eat of the fruit of that apple tree.  Now there may be a reason not to eat of the fruit of the apple tree.  Apples are still green, a couple apples may give a big tummy ache.  But what does the kid do? Goes gets a tummy ache. 

In the case of Adam and Eve, this is about what happened.  Children can't hear the words of wisdom. Father speaks, there is some of the words not heard. Also some of the words, children just don't believe dear Father will do.  And with the help of Satan who came walking along dressed in a snake Halloween outfit, they did as told not to do.  Now folks,  yes the snake walked on legs.  After God figured out what happen. the snake traveled about on belly, ate dirt, and a few other things, like get stomped on. Most normal people will kill or at least stay away from any snake. I have been told there is some snakes good for something. Sure beat me as to what, I want no part of any kind of snake.

Now it is time for a side trip on this yarn. My Grandmother Sonner, her folks died leaving 2 boys, and 2 girls. The oldest boy tried best he could to hold the kids together,  one day he went some where, and what happened to him, no one knows.  But here comes people that is uncles and aunts and such.  The kids are taken in and split up.  Grandmother gets a new role in life. I am sure some has read the story of the girl known as Cindy.  Cindy was the poor slave for the rest of the  family.

My Grandmother was much like Cindy in that story.  The family had this snake in the house,  A King snake, job of King snake was to lay around and feed off of the mice that invaded the house. Grandmother a child of maybe 7, or so was left in the house while all the others went to town for the day.  She seen snake, which gave her the creeps.   It was laying by the fire place to keep warm.  It got warm all right.  Family came home, never did know what happened to the King snake.

I think God is in over all control, but he also leaves us to pick and do things.  He gave us a guide book to follow.  There is many that just looks at the guide book, and try to find ways of not following the guide book.  And don't forget this fellow Satan and gang.  They will do lots of things in telling you this is not going to happen.. No father would be so mean to his children as to send them to a place called hell.. And besides there is no such place.  He is just doing a little  fibbing. Satan and gang tells us that many times in this life. It is strange, God wrote the book I called the guide book. Lots of people look at it, That is about the size of it, look, the dust builds up on it.  It is heavy reading to hear most talk.  Satan best I know never wrote a book, but many sure likes what he and his gang has to say. I guess his words is what might be easy on the ears, and easy to follow.

Maybe I should back track a bit.  There is an outside chance I missed something as to Satan writing a book.  He and his gang has to be the greatest fiction tellers of all time. It could be he and that gang does have fiction books for people to read.  I know lots of people can just get all wrapped up in pure fiction and garbage books and papers. I call them trash for the empty heads.   And we know Satan and company sure has a field day on empty heads.  I may cause a fire storm here. But I wonder if Satan and company may have a hand in all the rewrites of the Bible.  My favorite President Harry Truman said,, all their doing is muddying up the best book of books ever written. That is the King James.

Now we know of the people in a small town of Pennsylvania. A town made up of Amish belief.  These people could be very bitter over what has happened. Five of their children murdered, one more may die, others may be crippled for life.  The people is now saying they forgive.  I don't know as I could say that.

The young man that I know.  He too is now crippled for life, unable to ever walk again, not on this earth.  Some day he will be called home.  There he will walk on the streets of gold, live in a fine Marvelous Mansion.  Does he blame God for his earth problems?  I don't think so,  he is looking for the day to come,  when he will go to his real home.  He says he forgives the one who caused him this life of useless legs.  He is a Christian.  He has ever right to be bitter, but he isn't.  Instead he is a cheer leader for us that sometimes says why did this happen to me?  For some of us that says, WHERE WAS GOD ?  The answer to that is simple.  The same place he was when his Son, JESUS paid for us to some day walk the streets of gold, and have that Marvelous Mansion in HEAVEN. And my Bible does read MANSION,no flop house room.  I take HEAVEN to be my  Heavenly Father's house. 

Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write

http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book_detail.asp?&isbn=0-595-35741-5

~**~**~

Daylily Comforts

By Mary-Ellen Grisham

A storm came up suddenly one evening with no fore-warning at all.  The skies turned yellow, and strong winds began to blow.  In a matter of minutes, heavy rains pelted the yard, and tree limbs began to fall around the house.  We were stunned at the swiftness of the storm and its violence; no predictions for such weather had been forthcoming, and people were unprepared for the damage. 

Many areas were left without electric, and our block of houses was one of those.  The storm cooled the air, and the first night without electricity was uncomfortable but not too bad.  The days ahead were a different story. 

The next morning, as the temperature climbed, we were so hot without electricity that my son David and I got in the air-conditioned car and kept driving.  All the open eating places were just packed as people sought comfort, more than food.  We kept driving.

Finally, the second time around Godfrey, we stopped in at a Casey's, got tortilla chips, cold drinks, and a bit of comfort--the clerk was quite nice.

Then we went to the lovely park behind Godfrey City Hall.  It's practically in the country, and the park is surrounded by corn and soybeans on three sides.  This was a park to which I had brought David when he was pre-school age, but it has been beautifully developed and landscaped since that time.  Kansas-style hot breezes kept us ventilated, if not completely cooled.

We sat on a swinging bench under the trees and had our cold drinks and chips; then David did some swinging in the big swings.  After a while, we boarded our vehicle and started through our old neighborhood, a semi-country setting.

I had always loved the house on the corner of Bethany and Humbert, where the lady has massive flower gardens, vegetable gardens, and orchards.  This day, she had a small sign out that said 'daylilies.'  I tentatively knocked on the breezeway door, and she soon answered, inviting us in to the air-conditioned breezeway.

I walked out briefly to show her the light yellow daylilies I wanted, and then she directed me back to the breezeway where David waited.  In that heat, she took a shovel and dug up two huge clumps of light yellow daylilies.  She brought them to the breezeway in "water bags" and told me to throw them under a shade tree in the bags until we got time to plant them.

We sat chatting in her lovely breezeway for quite awhile--a breezeway full of violets, plants, plucked peaches in dozens of cartons, tomatoes, and other hanging plants and greenery.  When we left, she invited us to visit again.

After several days, the electric came back on, and Lowell and I planted the daylilies one Saturday morning.  They were still blooming, and as they bloom through the years, we will always remember the garden lady's kindness to us. Her home was like an oasis in a hot and weary land.

(c)2006 Mary-Ellen Grisham
meginrose@charter.net

The recent storms in the Midwest caused many folks to be without electricity for several days or longer.  There was considerable damage to buildings and property in some areas, and I know my husband's place of work sustained damage to the roof of an airplane hangar.  Many went "sleepless" as hot houses made rest nearly impossible.  The fact that people had water and could draw cool baths saved many from heat prostration.  During this time, neighbors were helping neighbors, and people within communities were helping those in need.  Our damaging storm was on July 19, 2006.  ("Sleepless near St. Louis"!)

~**~**~

 "Finders keepers.  Losers weepers."

Helen Dowd

My life began three summers ago. My mommy  had been left behind when her people moved away.  Why, I will never understand.  She was a beauty—black and white and sleek, just like me. So she became a "stray"—that's what humans call cats who have no real homes. 

Poor mom.  What was she to do?  Soon she would have a family to look after--me and five of my siblings. She hunkered down underneath the mobile home that her people had left.  A few of the neighbours took pity on her and brought her food. One lady in particular always brought bread and milk, with canned cat food mixed in.  I know that sometimes Mommy didn't act very grateful.  Whenever she saw someone approaching, she would hiss. But can you blame her?  How was she to know that they weren’t going to harm her babies? But as for me, I could hardly wait until the dish of food was down before I dug in.  It was delicious.

One day I heard my mommy crying.  "If we keep feeding the strays," she overheard one of the neighbours saying, "they will just keep on increasing. We must stop putting out food." How would she look after us if she had to go out and find food? She'd tried catching birds. Humans threw stones at her when they saw her with a bird in her mouth.  Then to make matters worse, the mobile home disappeared.  Mama had had enough!  She broke the news to us that we would just have to fend for ourselves. And that's the last we saw of Mommy. So here we were, six little kitties on our own.  We huddled together in the vacant lot where the mobile home used to be, venturing out only at night. Soon, as we became old enough, we melded into the neighbourhood.

But I and a couple of my siblings didn't go far. We had discovered a secret. That kind lady who had been bringing the delicious bread and milk-- whose name I have since learned, is Helen--didn't listen to the advice of her neighbours not to feed the strays. Every morning on her front porch, we would find a dish of dry cat food and a dish with bread and meat, soaked in milk. And there was always  fresh water  Quite a number of other stray kitties had discovered my secret too. I counted at one time, about 10.  I'm not too good at counting, so I am not sure.

Summer came and went.  I grew into a beauty, just like my mother—black with a white bib and booties.  Winter was hard, and I was cold a lot, but I always knew where to go to find food.  I was cautious, though, as my mommy had warned me that humans might try to catch me and take me to the pound.  So I became wary of everyone, even Helen.  She tried a few times to pet me, but I fled as soon as she got near.

 Soon it was spring again.  I was one year old, and ready to meet my Prince.  But which of these strays should I pick?  One day I saw him. He was a gorgeous Siamese.  I went up to him, flirting carefully at first, then becoming bolder.  Even though I was afraid of HUMANS I wasn't afraid of this magnificent creature.  Gradually I attracted his attention.  After a few flings—oh, they were great!—my Prince disappeared.  A few weeks later I had my first taste of motherhood—three kittens, not looking the least bit like me.  They took after their daddy.  I was still leery of people, so I taught my kits to be too.  However, I did lead them to the porch where I knew the food would be.  They gladly consumed whatever food Helen put down, but they wouldn't let her, or anyone else, near them. 

 It was summer again. My three Siamese kits were on their own.  It was time for me to go looking for another Prince. But which one should I choose?

Every time Helen saw me she would coax me to let her pet me.  I would roll over, allowing her come near me, but as soon as she did, I would skitter away.  "Come on, Little Mama" Helen would say—Little Mama is what she called me. Gradually over the summer I learned to trust Helen.  In the evenings on hot days, Helen would open up the front door.  I was now brave enough to go right up to the screen and look in.  That's when I saw them—all those kitties inside her house.  There was a kitty that looked a lot like the daddy to my first family, but I knew he wasn't.  This kitty was playful and would rub up against the screen.  We touched paws many times.  I heard Helen calling him, "Ezee." And then I saw a beautiful white kitty.  He just stared at me.  I stared back. His name, I learned, was "Casper." Eventually I spied a third cat, a grey and white beauty, with long, silky fur. I heard Helen call him "Casey." He was my favourite.  I liked to touch paws with him and rub up against the screen.  Oh how I wished that I could go through that screen and live in that house.    That's where my friend Helen lived. I wasn't afraid of her anymore.

Oh! I almost forgot.  There was another member of the family—a noisy one. His name, I learned, was "Rocky."   He wasn't a cat. He was what they called, "a dog."  He went everywhere with Helen.     When Helen and Rocky got home, I was always waiting for them.  I loved the way Helen rubbed my tummy.  I let her do it now. At first Rocky would chase me, but soon, after Helen scolded him a few times, he started to like me. He would come up to me and lick my face. One day I heard Helen say, "So! Little Mama, you are going to be a mommy again!"  That was no surprise to me!  

September came.  It was time for my kittens to be born.  I scouted around for a private place to hide.  One day I heard Helen say, "Little Mama, where did you hide your kittens? (How did she know I'd had them?) For three weeks I kept my hiding place a secret.  Then one day Helen followed me.  One of my kits was adventurous and crept out of the hidey-hole. Helen picked him up. Soon another kit ventured out, and another.  Helen scooped them up and took them into the house.  So, I coaxed the rest of my family out from under the shed. When Helen came back outside I met her at the back door, with my other three kittens following me. Next thing I knew Helen had my kittens in the house.  She knew I would follow.  At last!  I was in Helen's house, a member of her household.

But how would Casper, Ezee, Casey and Rocky react to six little moving balls of fur? Helen put us all in a room and shut the door.  She gave us food, water, and a kitty litter box.  How was I supposed to know how to use a litter box?  But guess what!  Those things come instinctively to kitties. I not only used the box she provided, but I taught all six of my babies to do so too. 

One day, not long after we were welcomed into the house, I was horrified at what happened.  How could Helen have betrayed me like this?  I thought she was my friend.  But here we were, five of my babies and me, squished into a carrier.  Helen kept one of my babies because he looked like Ezee.  I still don't know how I managed to have one Siamese offspring from a black father.  Oh, did I forget to tell you which of the strays I picked to be the father of my babies?  It was my brother—a beautiful, sleek all-black kitty.

But back to this horrid experience of being stuffed into a box with wire windows and a door.  And then, of all things, Helen plunked the cage into the back seat of her car.  Where were we going?  To my disbelief, I learned that she had taken us to the Veterinarian's.  I listened carefully to the conversation between the Vet and Helen.  The Vet had explained earlier to Helen on the phone, when she phoned to find out what to do with a stray mother cat and her kittens, that if she were to take them to the Vet's, and relinquish them (I leaned that "relinquish" means to give them up), the city would pay for the mother to be spayed, and homes would be found for her and her kittens.  Horrors!  Not only was I to be given to a stranger, I was never to be able to have babies again!  My whole world fell apart. Tears splashed on to my babies as I sat in a cramped cell, waiting for my inevitable fate.  (I didn't know it at the time, but I found out later that Helen didn't want to give me up, but she couldn't adopt me and my six kitties, so she had no choice but to take me to the Vet's so he could find homes for us all, and so that I wouldn't go on "populating" the neighbourhood.)

It is to remain forever a secret what happened to me during the next two months.

It was now very cold again.  But I didn't care.  I was free!  I was free!  I had escaped from my captivity. I knew where I was headed. And sure enough, there it was, the porch with the food dishes still waiting for me. I started to gobble food down as fast as I could. 

I glanced up at the window, and there was Helen, looking out. I heard her scream, "Come look!  Little Mama's back. She's back!" Soon there were two people at the window.  The man was there too.  I heard him say, "Are you sure it's her?  Go open the door and see if she comes in."

Next thing I know Helen is standing at the open door, calling, "Little Mama. Is that you?"  Of course it is me!  I walked right in.  Ezee and Casey and Casper and Rocky were all there to greet me.  They licked me and purred. I rolled over, in that cute manner of mine.  What a welcome!  But then along came a little guy.  He came bouncing up to me, hissing and spitting.  He didn't want me.  Then I recognized him.  That was one of my own babies, and he didn't want me!  Oh well, I would ignore him.  All the others were glad to see me.  I was home to stay.

The man of the house said, "'Finders keepers. Losers weepers'. Welcome home, "Keeper."

My name was no longer "Little Mama."

© Helen Dowd

hmdowd@telus.net

 Keeper

The End.

 Note form Helen: It didn't take Keeper's son, Scooter, long to make friends with his long-lost mama.  And it didn't take long to learn that Keeper had escaped from her captor WITHOUT being "fixed."   But that was soon remedied. KEEPER is now a permanent member of our household of 5 cats and one dog and two humans.  She doesn't even WANT to go outside.  HD

"If you find something and let it go, if it returns to you, it is yours. 

If it does not, it was never meant to be."

But! That's NOT The End!

Wait for a sequel: Do Kitties Have Angels.

~**~**~

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; Grisham, Mary-Ellen; 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; Meeks, Carol; Mizrany, Mary Carter; Morris, Deepak; Ojeibge, Georgewaters; Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan; Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Smith; Michael; 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

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Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

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