Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

Nov 13, 2006

Today’s announcements

My husband is on PERITONEAL DIALYSIS-----where he hooks up to a cycler and
filters at night while he sleeps.  He started this on August 8, 2006.  We
went on a trip to Dallas, Texas, to watch the Cowboys play.......and since
that trip (which the doctor encourages four trips a year) we can't get the
swelling out of his feet.  He need prayers that his body is truly responding
to the dialysis and the swelling will go away.  This causes him discomfort
and we can't walk three times a week as the doctor has told us to do. 
Please lift him up for I know God is with him, we just need a little extra
help right now.

Thanks......................carol dee meeks

c_pmeeks@hotmail.com

Please continue to pray from Mark and Sandra Crider who are grieving over the lost of their beloved dog Miss Dougie.

Congratulations, Sandra Lewis Pringle for making senior writer status.  Sandra came to us on June 10^, 2005 as the 214^th writer for Storytime Tapestry and has graced us ever since with her wonderful Christian devotions. Please send her your best wishes.

Do not forget to send in your votes for the Halloween Contest – deadline to vote – November 17^th

See below for Storytime Angels

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Queue Stories

~**~**~

Ms.Doogie

Bill Walker

missourisage@yahoo.com

There is a home in Texas that is very sad. All you will hear is tear drops falling. Ms.Doogie went home to the Rainbow Bridge.  The girl passed over with out any warning, this happens many times in this life. Leaving behind her loving people Mark and Sandra.  The house is quite tonight, and for many days and nights to come. 

Some people, many people says well it was only a dog, so what?  Let me tell you something,  Ms.Doogie was not just a dog, no Ms.Doogie was a family member.  She was loved, and cared for like any member of a family should be cared for.   She was a loyal member of the family.  Knew happy times, sad times and all times in between. She took part in any goings on, and why not, she was family. 

Some people never understand the bond a dog makes with true dog people and lovers of a dog.  If you don't understand, I can't explain it to you, you just would never understand.  A loyal dog, asks for so little, but gives so much.  Ms.Doogie was such a loyal dog.  She always was ready to go, but if couldn't go, she understood, she waited at the door, holding the fort down, till the return of her people.  What was her people's, was hers also.  She was the owner and guard of the home fort till, she leaped for joy on their return.

Some day Mark and Sandra will too go home, and I can say this, will be met by a loving dog name of Ms.Doogie and others also.  Tails will be waving and the slop kiss given once again.  Happy Days are here again. She and the others will lay, wait and watch, looking through the mist for the coming home of the much loved Big People.  The ones who are now crying their eyes out over the earth loss of a much beloved Ms.Doogie.

Yes there is a sad home in Texas. A family member passed from this life to the next life.  A place where Ms. Doogie is with out pain, sickness , but sad till her Big People comes running up the lane for a happy reunion, and what a greeting that will be. She will lay, set, play a bit with the others also waiting, but her eyes will be watching down the lane.  

Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write

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

~**~**~

LITTLE LESSONS

Joe Mazzella

Everyday life has taught me a lot of things over the years. It has filled me
with hundreds of little lessons that have brought so much laughter into my
life, love into my heart, and joy into my soul. Here are just a few of the
many wonderful bits of wisdom that life has given me.

When raking leaves in the backyard always rake them into a big pile. This
makes it easier for you and your children to jump and play in them.
Shoveling snow off the driveway isn't complete until you make a snow angel,
build a snowman, and have at least one snowball fight. When mowing the lawn
always leave a clump of dandelions or sweet clover standing for the
butterflies to enjoy. You will get tired of playing fetch long before your
dog does, but you should still play anyway. An empty lap is far less happy
than one that has a cat, dog, or young child sitting on it. A clean house
isn't always a happy house. The best homes look lived in, laughed in, and
loved in. It is hard to give away a smile. It almost always gets returned to
you. Arms are meant for hugging, hands are meant for holding, and lives are
meant for living. You can't give too much love or share too much joy. The
more love you give to others the more love you have in your heart. The more
joy you share with others the more joy you have in your soul. If you are too
busy to watch a sunset, play with your kids, read a book, listen to music,
or gaze at the stars then you are just too busy period. We can create Heaven
on Earth or we can create Hell on Earth. It is our choice. I much prefer
Heaven on Earth myself.

One last thing that I have learned is that God loves us more than we will
ever know and that God wants us to be happy in our lives. Why else would we
be down here learning these little lessons about life, love, and joy? I hope
that you have a lifetime of happiness learning yours and sharing them with
others.

Joe Mazzella

joecool@wirefire.com

~**~**~

ValueSpeak

A Weekly Column

By Joseph Walker

valuespeak@msn.com

ELECTED BY A HAIR

1972 was the first year 18-year-olds could vote in American elections.  Unfortunately, I was only 17 in 1972, so I couldn’t cast my ballot for Richard Nixon (but I still have the “Nixon’s the One!” button I wore to make it perfectly clear who I WOULD have voted for).

            During the off-year election of 1974 I was 19 and old enough to vote, but I was in an exotic foreign country doing volunteer work for my church, and the whole election thing sort of slipped past me (what?  You don’t think Southern California qualifies as an “exotic foreign country”?  Believe me, to a kid born and raised in Middle America it couldn’t have been more exotic or foreign if I had been laboring in the shadows of the Taj Mahal).

            So as far as I was concerned, my first real opportunity to exercise my franchise to vote was in 1976.  It was an intensely political year, in part because of the patriotic furor inspired by our country’s Bicentennial celebration and in part because it was the first presidential election post-Watergate, and I was completely caught up in it.  In fact, my first job upon returning from the wilds of San Diego was to work for a gubernatorial campaign in my home state.

            I served my candidate zealously.  He was a man I had known most of my life, and he was a good man.  He was bright, articulate and had years of experience as a leader in our state legislature.  I believed in him.  And I knew he would be the kind of governor our state needed – a statesman, not a politician.  So I invested my heart and soul into working to get him elected.

            Only he wasn’t.  He didn’t even make it out of the primary.  I was devastated.  This wasn’t the way it was supposed to work.  You get behind a good candidate, you work hard for him or her and you win.  That’s the way it’s supposed to work.  And my candidate was great.  He would have been a terrific governor.  The only thing he didn’t have going for him was his hair.  He was kind of . . . you know . . . bald.  And he lost to a guy with a full head of hair.  So I figured we lost for cosmetic reasons, and that sort of soured me on the whole political process.

Which is why I decided to show my disdain for the superficiality of American politics by NOT voting in November.  “What’s the point?” I asked my Dad.  “Nobody cares about qualifications or ability.  It’s just about . . . you know . . . hair.  I refuse to be part of it.”

I expected a strong reaction from Dad, who had always been politically active and had even run for office a time or two.  Instead, he just looked at me and smiled the smile of one who had voted for his share of Election Day losers through the years – from Herbert Hoover to Thomas Dewey to (that very year) Gerald Ford.

“You’re right,” he said.  “The process isn’t perfect.  But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.  It’s like our Impala.  Mom and I would love to have a Lincoln, but what we have is an Impala.  It’s not what we’d prefer, but it gets us where we want to go.  Elections are like that.”

Now, I have to be honest – Dad’s analogy was a little lost on me.  But somehow I got the point that we’re not always going to emerge from Election Day with a Lincoln – or a Washington or a Jefferson, for that matter.  The process doesn’t guarantee that the best candidate will win.  The important thing here is the process itself.  As Americans we have a choice, and we have the privilege and opportunity of exercising that choice on Election Day.  Whether or not your candidate wins, the process works.  Because eventually, it gets us where we want to go.

So I went ahead and voted in 1976.  I confess to venting my political frustration by voting for the gubernatorial candidate from the other party mostly because he wasn’t the guy who beat my guy.  I freely admit to being deviously delighted when my new candidate won.  But the really interesting thing is he turned out to be one of the best governors in our state’s history.

Even though he was kind of . . . you know . . . bald.

~**~**~

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