Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

Nov 29, 2006

Today’s announcements

The Storytime Family wishes Bruce Roney: busyb460@msn.com a very Happy Birthday

Hello dear friends

Just a short note to let you know that I have been in the hospital since the tuesday before thanksgiving.  My son brought me home today.

I have blood clots in my lungs and am on two kinds of blood thinner (INJECTION AND ORAL).

I am very tired will try to write more later.  Please keep the mail to a minumum for the next couple days please.  I am sorry but I won't be able to reply to all the emails.  I am just too tired.

I love you all and hope you all had a great thanksgiving.  I spent mine in the hospital.  My son and his family came and brought me a wonderful homecooked dinner and we had a nice visit together.

Please keep me in your prayers.

Praise the Lord for without Him urging me through my son to get to the doctor's office, I may not have been here now.  He moves in mysterious ways his miracles to perform.

Love to all,

Barbara

weymouth@surewest.net

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Queue Stories

~**~**~

He Is Still With Us

Sharon Bryant

My sister was never the crafter in my family.  I was the one who always had my hands in yarn, knitting needles, paints, sewing, etc.  We both work, and though I hate to admit it, her home is cleaner than mine.  She always says, "How do you find the time to make all the things that you do?"  I answer, "I let the dishes go for a night, I don't vacuum every single day, and I dust when I DO find time."  Suzy homemaker I am not.  But then when I last saw my sister's house and opened a large door in her kitchen, I saw how she does it.  When a box of Biscuit mix fell on my head and two cans of peas went rolling across the floor, and I saw everything crammed into that hidden door, I see how she does it.  Why I bet she even sweeps the dirt under the front mat when her doorbell rings!  Gram taught me that trick many years ago.

The other day my sister called me and said, "Watch your mailbox.  A box will be arriving and I want you to open it.  It's an early Christmas present but when you see it, you'll understand why I want you to open it up early."

The box arrived today.

For someone who has never sewn before, my sister did a fabulous job.  For someone who couldn't even hem a skirt or a pair of slacks, she did wonders.  And I, when I opened the gift I got a warm fuzzy feeling all over.  Because now I know he is still with us.

My sister took all of my dad's shirts and cut them up into squares and made a comforter for me.  She told me today she made one for my brother also.  I recognized four shirts on mine that I had bought dad.  When she called me today to see if the box arrived, she said, "I wanted dad to be with all of us this Christmas."

I told her we think alike because I shipped out two boxes today, one for her, one for my brother.  I want dad to be with us also.  I enlarged the last photo I had taken of dad two days before he died ten months ago.  I bought a frame with the verse "Remember me", and I sent both my sister and brother one.

I'm facing some tough times this year.  My daughter has to have a second heart surgery as the first one last week did not "take."  This is my first year my whole life without my dad here.  I miss my mom and I miss my son.  When you put it all together, it means heart tugs. 

Sharon Bryant

1946@bellsouth.net

~**~**~

 ValueSpeak

A Weekly Column

Guest Columnist: Elizabeth Walker

valuespeak@msn.com

YOU CAN’T JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS MULLET

Elizabeth Walker

            Hudson is a really nice guy.  That’s probably what got him into trouble.

            You see, my older sister, Amy, is going to cosmetology school, and last week the girls in her school put on a fashion show.  Each student selected a theme and styled two models.

            Hudson just happened to be at my house when Amy arrived.  Explaining to us the theme she had chosen, Hudson reluctantly agreed to be one of her models.  After all, her theme would call for a classic Frank Sinatra-type look.  How bad could that be?

            Pretty bad, it turns out.

            The day before the show Hudson went in for his hair cut.  As Amy greeted him he could tell that something was up.   Apparently she had been flipping through magazines and found a whole new theme she wanted to do: Punk Rocker.  Because he had already committed to the show – and because he’s a really nice guy – he smiled and said, “Sure.  I trust you.”

            And so the pain began.

            After what seemed like hours under the scissors, Hudson was finally ready to see what had been done to him.  Turning to face the mirror, his jaw dropped.  He could barely recognize himself with pink hair and a spiky mullet.  He tried to laugh it off, knowing that in three days it would be gone.  But he couldn’t figure out how he was going to get through the two days in between during which he would have to attend school and work as usual.

            During this period of time Hudson noticed many different reactions to his Crayola-colored hair.  His mom couldn’t stop taking pictures and his dad couldn’t stop laughing.

            Some of the reactions were hurtful.  Adults stared, children pointed, and his friends suddenly didn’t want to hang out with him.  He found himself wondering what the problem was.  He knew why he looked the way he did, and he knew he wasn’t any different inside than when he looked clean-cut and all-American on the outside.  He could hear people whispering behind him, making comments about him being too wild.  Some people were even afraid of him.

            Returning to his car one night after a concert he found himself walking toward a noticeably nervous teenager, who was pacing in front of his car.  As Hudson got closer he noticed the kid becoming ever more anxious.  When he started to unlock his car the trembling teenager walked up to him.

“I was backing out and hit your car,” he said.  “That big dent in your door is my fault.”

            Hudson shut his door and looked at the damage.  Then he smiled.

            “It’s no problem,” Hudson said.  “It doesn’t look any different to me.”

            “But there’s a huge dent in it,” said the new, nervous driver.

            “I know,” Hudson replied, still smiling.  “I did that about a year ago when I ran into a pole.  No worries, man.  It’s alright.”

            The boy, who clearly had been expecting trouble from this hard-looking punk, took one last look at Hudson – his eyes focused on Hudson’s rosy coiffure – before he hurried off.

            Hudson was relieved when he could finally return to his normal look.  As far as he was concerned, the wild and freaky Hudson didn’t act any different than the straight-laced Hudson.  He was still the same guy – a really nice guy – with or without the pink, punk hair.  But he sure was treated different.

            And that has made me think.  Every day I encounter people who have different styles and different ideas.  How often do I judge them – for good or for ill – without actually knowing anything about them?  First impressions can be deceiving – especially if we don’t take the time and effort to dig deeper.  What really counts is what’s inside people.

            Because you never know when there’s going to be a pink mullet on a really nice guy.

Your vote

Now who in their right mind it seems
-
Would give away their vote carelessly'
-
To people who lie to them deliberately'
-
Put them and loved ones in harms way'
-
And continue to rob them of their dreams

~**~**~

As I turn 40:

Tannia Ortiz-Lopes

Last year I turned 40 and I decided to make an inventory of my life, my goals, my dreams, my motivations, my destination, and myself.  I went to a weekend silence retreat to find myself again. During the study of the assigned scriptures, the enjoyment of nature, and doing my drawings, I discovered a brand new world.  It was as if my eyes and ears were opened for me to see who I was, who I became, and whom I wanted to be.

I learned that the sacrament of marriage is sacred and I had neglected it for a long time.

I learned that the sacrament of motherhood is holy and I had misused it for a long time.

I learned that the ministry I was looking for outside my home, was inside my home but I was too busy and blind to see it there waiting for me.

I learned that life is short and I will be accountable for the gifts and treasures given to me and I have not been a good steward of them.

I learned that “Tannia” was more than a name, but an attitude and I needed to adjust mine so I could become the person the Lord wants me to be, to do the work He needs me to do.

I learned the Lord gave me many talents and I was not using them properly.

I learned that my tongue needed to be educated and seldom down so only kind words come out of it and not "those words" we all know well are shameful to God and to others.

I learned that the "gift of silence" is indeed a gift which so many of us don't know how to treasure it but instead violate it with noises.

I learned that learning to "walk my talk" and having a conversation with Jesus is the most gratifying experience for any human being.

I learned to see through the eyes of Jesus my weakness and my strength and to trust in Him for all my needs.

I learned to hear through Jesus ears, and what I hear was only praises and worshiping to the Father.

I learned that nature is precious and we should learn from it and make it last for others to see.

I learned that having a deeper relationship with Christ is a BIG responsibility and is the best tranquilizer for my life aches and pains.

I learned that counting with Jesus is total surrender and total acceptance to His will.

I learned that reading the scriptures and reflecting on them could be the beginning of my new life and career with Christ.

I learned to laugh.

I learned to listen attentively to others, including the birds flying on the sky.

I learned to say "The Peace be with You" and feeling the joy of sharing His peace with others.

I learned to say, "Thank You, Lord, for this wonderful day. Thank You, for finding me worthy of your time and mercy."

I learned to be humble and obedience to my Creator and His Son, Jesus, my Savior.

I learned to remember that family and friends are also important and phrases as:

 "I love you"

"I am proud of you"

"You are precious to me"

are refreshing as a glass of water for a thirsty person in a hot summer day.

I learned to life.

I learned to love.

I learned that “Tannia” is more than a name, but a friend of Jesus you count among your friends

By: Me 

May 13, 2003

This poem later on became the Preface for my poetry book,  The Window to my soul, My Walk with Jesus.

Tannia E. Ortiz-Lop?s was born in Guayama, Puerto Rico and currently lives in Germany with her husband and two sons. On 2004, the author published her first free-style inspirational poetry book, The Window to my soul, My Walk with Jesus, with Tate Publishing and under the pen name of Mary Magdalene. On March 2006, the book was voted “Best Poetry Book” by www.christianstoryteller.com The book could be purchased directly from the publisher at www.tatepublishing.com, www.amazon.com, and it’s affiliates and  at all other major online stores.

Author’s webpage: www.myspace.com/tanniaortizlopes. The author also has a blog at www.amazon.com

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

They?

Mary Dees

Territory preserved for leaders here,

They walk with pride and little fear.

Though a justified cause can make a saint into a liar.

When They parade with the torch that lit the fire.

Preoccupied lives curse fate well known,

The rock of ages can't share its thrown.

Death waving through widows and yesterday boys,

While mocking the sadness, They rape the joy. 

They carry the burdens, usually in stride,

Casually concerned, intimidation their guide.

Leaking truth causing disarray.

Mothers humble, are forced to pray.

No way to mend what will be done,

Yet They put bread on the table for a fatherless son.

Business as usual, keeping their friendships at bay,

They live by a code...Respect , Honer & Obey.

By Mary M. Dees

marlena7694@yahoo.com

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