Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

Nov 25, 2006

Today’s announcements

^{Remember that all stories and poems were lost because of the computer crash, if you sent me anything in late August, September or October and you haven’t seen it published please send it back again.  Thank you.}

See below for Storytime Angels

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Queue Stories

~**~**~

Old Brush Arbor Meetings

(Part One) 

Sometimes I wish that I could slip back in time for just a little while to see and experience some of the interesting things from the past. 

Imagine for a moment walking toward an outdoor meeting being held in your community.  As you walk up into an open field you see in the distance a rustic shelter and coming from that place you hear the strains of When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder being played upon stringed instruments or a pump organ that has been brought by wagon.  A large crowd is gathering beneath bows of greenery that block out the sun, giving the place a yellow-green color as the branches filter the light.  A slight breeze wafts across the crowd on this hot summer day as you find a place to sit on one of the long benches that were hastily constructed for the meeting.  You can’t help tapping your foot to the sound of the music as everyone anticipates what is to come because you have just entered a brush arbor meeting.

Religious freedom has always been a part of our American heritage.  There were many churches in the east but when our country began moving toward the south and west there were very few formal churches. 

Brush Arbor meetings, sometimes called protracted meetings, or camp meetings, began in the late 1700s and continued into the mid 1900s.  Itinerant ministers or circuit riding preachers would travel from place to place and would often send word ahead of their approximate time of arrival in a community.    If there was no building, the people there would quickly erect a brush arbor for a meeting place.  It was usually located in a well-traveled area along the side of a road and everyone was welcome.

Rev. James McGready, a Presbyterian minister, is said to be the one who came up with the idea of the brush arbor meetings but many denominations began having them around that same time.  Rev. McGready was said to be a tall muscular man with a powerful voice that thundered out across the crowd as he preached.

Some people came from a quite a distance.   People often lived in isolated places and the chance to hear a preacher was a great event.  It took some people two or three days to arrive.  They came by horseback, covered wagons, or walked and would come for miles to hear someone speak the Word of God.  They would camp near the brush arbor where there was plenty of room for everyone.

These arbors were rough shelters made by driving upright poles into the ground and then weaving longer poles across the top to support brush made up of green leafy branches that would be placed on top to make a primitive shelter.  At the front of the arbor there would be a pulpit in the center that someone would have made for the occasion and a long bench on each side for

The brush arbors provided shade and at least some protection from the rain.  The communities that had permanent church buildings looked forward to the brush arbor meetings in the summer because any meeting inside of a building was stifling due to the heat.   There was no air-conditioning at that time and the only fans were of the hand-held variety that was often given out by businesses or politicians.  They were made of cardboard and usually had a religious scene printed on one side.

Oftentimes the brush arbor meetings lasted all day and then into the night.  The day might begin with Bible school in the morning for children and singing in the afternoons.  Sometimes a choir would be made up of folks from many different denominations.  There weren’t any hymnbooks to hand out.  People learned the hymns from one another and memorized them.  Sometimes the only instrument might be a tuning fork to begin a song.  There were a variety of hymns that would be sung such as Will There Be Any Stars In My Crown, Amazing Grace, Bringing In The Sheaves, and Shall We Gather At The River.  The talented and the not so talented would bring special music in solos, duets, and quartets to make a joyful noise unto the Lord. 

By

Pamela Perry Blaine

© September 30, 2006

About Pamela:  My husband and I live in Missouri.  I enjoy writing, music, and country living.  I write "Pam's Corner" for the local newspaper and many stories have been published on the internet as well as in several books.
I have loved music and writing ever since I can remember. I play piano at church and I'm an avid reader. One of my goals is to be able to write for my children and grandchildren so special memories will not be forgotten.  We have a CD entitled "I'll Walk You Home".  If you would like one, they are available by freewill donation.  More information as well as a clip from the CD is on the website at:http://www.blaines.us/PamyPlace.htm
  
My Website:
http://www.blaines.us/PamyPlace.htm
e-mail: pamyblaine@blaines.us

~**~**~

 BORIS GARDNER AS A BIRTHDAY GIFT (October 2006)

By Georgewaters Ojeigbe – Lagos, Nigeria

gojiegbe@oregun.jhplc.com

Have you ever in your life received a birthday gift from a-would be friend?

Yes, I have!

In 1989, my relatives just moved into a new apartment, which to me seemed lonely being that faces around were not the familiar ones.

I am that kind of person who misses a place after staying that long, so I really felt bad living my old friends behind; moreover, the previous house was much bigger and finer than the new one.  We moved out due to some constraints from the daddy of the house who could not shoulder his responsibilities anymore.  Life must continue in any form so we chose this accommodateable place; a two bedroom bungalow with a little store which served as a third room for my cousin and me, where we fitted in the double-layer bed with a little desk by the side, it was cozy anyway.

In no time neighbors, living on the little estate, which was owned by a widow, started a friendly relationship with us.  We were greeted over a hundred times a day.  Well, it is part of the Western Nigeria culture to have greetings for every situation; if you are found fighting, there is a greeting for that; if you are found eating, there is a greeting for that; if you are in the rest room, there is also greeting for that; every situation has its peculiar greeting.  For me I was feeling lonely trying to adapt to my new environment, and at the same time, it was close to my birthday, which has never been celebrated but only recognized by my household.

In a short while, I guess I might have discussed my birthday somehow, somewhere with one of our new neighbors absent-mindedly.  Perhaps, he asked me or so, I would not remember now since my birthday has never been taken seriously in my household and I never saw it as a thing to rejoice over but as a thing to rethink and count my years of aging into a matured man, not knowing where I was going to end up.  I was then clocking 19 years and yet no school was in the making for me by my household and not even an apprenticeship offer was promised after leaving the secondary school.

I have never understood anybody to be concerned about a new neighbor’s birthday until 1989.

It was 21^st of April, 1989 and we had just returned from my aunties restaurant.  Nobody talked about my birthday, nothing was done as usual.  It was just a normal day with a normal boy living with a normal family as represented throughout the world.  I guess my journey through life is not that different from most people, just a slight difference, if we may compare, but we all have had our shares of harsh life especially living with people who are not your parents. 

It was about 8:30 p.m. or 9 p.m., something of that nature anyway.  There came a little tap on the sitting room entrance door and the night visitor was told to come in.

The door slightly opened and a timid face appeared.  The face was familiar and has been one of the keen people always smiling at me each time we met on the way.  He entered into our house for the first time and my aunty was inquisitive of his late evening visit.  He introduced himself by name of Muyiwa Falowo, a neighbor opposite our flat and that he has come to see me.  All eyes in the sitting room turned to me and I was kind of nervous and shy seeing someone who we have not really talked together coming to see me that let hour.  For what purpose, I murmured to myself.

He stepped out of our house and I followed him behind. 

Outside the our house, he turned to face me and smiled sheepishly.  He turned left and right, looked behind him and put one of his arms on his head as if rubbing the hairs.  Then he tucked his left arm into his trousers pocket and handed me a little rapped notebook sheet.

I wondered what the content could be as I nervously exposed the content in the notebook sheet.  It was a cassette and I looked at the artist’s name, which read Boris Gardner.

My late evening visitor simply looked at me in the eyes and said enjoy the music, it is for you on your birthday.  Instantly, I felt like crying.  He requested me to listen to the songs and would have my view on the songs later on.  I promised him a feedback.  He said goodnight to me and in turn, I saw him off to his family apartment door.

I got back into our house and waited until everybody had gone to the bedrooms before I slotted the tape in the play.  I pressed the play button, and the music played in a gently manner, a soft melodious with rhythms so strong filled with love lyrics.

In the 80’s, Mr. Jim’s country music was my best and many others like Anita Barker.  I had never heard of Boris Gardner until 1989 and I have no course of regret accepting the birthday gift from a-would be friend.  From the very day I responded to his question he became my closest friend ever had.  Being a younger one of about 16 years we always talked about music, films, our futures and some few gossips about his family, my relatives and many other issues each day; we were never bored.  His family members always knew where to get him each time they needed his attention, and my relatives knew where to find me also each time they needed my assistance at home.

After a while, he got into a seriously relationship with a girl around the neighborhood and it blossomed for them until I lost my closest friend to this girl.  Before, we used to talk for hours but it became an issue of “George please I am coming very soon.”  I would be there waiting endlessly until when it is time to go in before he resurface and apologize for his lateness.  We would only talk for about 10 to 15 minutes before saying good night to each other.

With time, at the age of 16+ he was gone with the girl for real.

One thing I know about is that he never understood the role he played in my life.  I learnt from him that love could come from anywhere.  Whoever loves you might not have the boldness to let you know until a situation conducive arose.

Just late last year 2005, I saw him with his son, I was pleased with him, and in my mind I looked back to the years gone by; only God knew my thought.  He still smiled sheepishly at me and we managed to ask ourselves questions, but that old feelings had gone yet I believed we held on to the old days friendship, a bond that was tied just through a mere audio tape given to me as my birthday gift, my first and last gift on my birthday.  He talked about the bad health of his father and the changes especially his great involvement in his father’s investments.  Things have actually changed after fourteen years of departing due to relocation by his parents.  By now he has reached 32 years and no more that 16 years old close friend of mine.  But as I looked down to him I was not seeing a 33 years old man standing in front of me instead I was seeing that 16 years old friend of mine who showed me what a true friendship opt to be.  My first and last closest friend.

Just today, 16^th October, 2006 before writing down this story I felt like calling him to say a big thank you for being that friend of mine in 1989 but his phone rang for a long time after several trial, it was never picked.  He does not have my office phone number, I guess.

Each time that song of Boris Gardner is being played on radio my mind always race back to the friend Muyiwa Falowo.  Perhaps without him I would not have known the cool artist Boris Gardner.  I am still having the audio tape of Boris Gardner in my music collections.

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

Absent

Mary Dees

You put a hole through the heart of the church in my soul,

Now the faith that I had is beyond my control.

Struck by this lightning, your stars drip from my sky,

The limbs from my tree, broke off in your night.

My field full of daisy's, wash down your unguided stream,

The blue in your ocean, took my current from me.

The wind welcomes my sails with my boat still in tact.

My passage brand new with your hand gone from my back.

By Mary M. Dees

marlena7694@yahoo.com

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