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Storytime_Tapestry Archives Index
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Storytime Tapestry Newsletter The newsletter devoted to
spreading love and cultural awareness around the world. Our Christmas, Channukah,
Kwanzaa, New Years, holidays Contest Today’s Contest Stories ~**~**~ Christmas Kindnesses By Ron Gold Gretel and I blissfully returned to celebrate the first
anniversary of our very first date at our Ice Island, the skating rink at When winter first kisses We had just came off the ice, a little numb but happy, and
were heading to nearby Corwin’s Pharmacy, a skater’s oasis where the bill o’
fare included soup, hot apple pies and ice cream. Here we could hold hands, make small talk and
big romantic plans. Gretel hid her lovely mauve skating outfit under a puffy
polo coat and filed her long, lovely legs in knee-high leather boots. I carried our skates. Little Lisa and her mother, Karen unexpectedly greeted us
in front of the drug store. Lisa was
wearing a year-old red snowsuit, short red mittens and a somewhat crumpled
white “Hello, mister.
Hello, Missy,” Lisa said, taking off her cap and holding it open, in
front of her. “My momma and I haven’t
eaten since last night. Could you help
us, please?” Gretel looked at me and winked. “Please come inside with us,” I said. “This
store makes the best pancakes and hot chocolate in We found a booth for four.
Hattie, the waitress and cook, brought us iced water, menus and her
World Class smile. And she grinned as
she kissed my cheek. “Hi, Tom, you want your usual?” “Make it short stacks with bacon and hot chocolates for
all four of us.” “Momma,” Lisa said, “Will you please say grace?” When the pancakes were set on the table, Karen stood,
bowed her head and said, “let us pray.”
Both the drug store and dining area grew quiet. “Dear Father in Heaven,
Thank you for leading us to these kind young people. Thanks for getting us to this warm place and
thank you for your blessed bountiful food.
Please make Lisa and me worthy of this soulful generosity. Amen.” A tear wet its way down Gretel’s elegant face as she held
my hand tightly. There wasn’t much small talk as we ate. Gretel and I watched
Karen and Lisa attack their dinners in a hungry yet ladylike manner. And I discovered a bright new miracle:
Gretel’s unbelievably beautiful green eyes. Hattie reappeared and approached Karen. “Miss,” she said, “Mr. Corwin wants to know
if you could help me feed our hungry customers tomorrow. The pay’s not big but the hours are
long. As for you, Tommy, don’t reach for
your wallet. Your money’s no good here today. Eddie is picking up the tab. He’s never heard anyone bless our pancakes
before.” I told my ladies,
“Eddie Corwin’s been filling prescriptions here for thirty-five years. He never knows which of his pills work but he
knows that the grace he heard tonight was something special – and he’s proud to
have inspired it.” As we were leaving the store, I embraced the grinning
druggist. Eddie whispered, “She’s really
a looker. What great green eyes! I think
you may have a real ‘keeper’ this time, Son.
She’s stunning. In two hours mom
and I will be ringing your doorbell.
We’ll bring decaf coffee and Hattie’s store-made muffins.” I told the girls. “Now we want to take you to Macy’s
Department Store. Karen, you’ll need a
smart uniform and some fresh cosmetics for your new job. Both you ladies could use new shoes and a
bottle of shampoo.” Their Christmas shopping completed, the four winter people
piled into a taxi which drove Karen and Lisa to a small, clean hotel. (Tom checked them in.) Then they drove Gretel
and Tom to his apartment. Before they exited the cab, Karen and Lisa kissed Tommy
and Gretel. And wished them a very Merry
Christmas. An hour and a-half later, Tommy Corwin’s doorbell
rang. Ron Gold outthinkresumes@aol.com ~**~**~ ‘A MERRY JEWISH CHRISTMAS’ By Ron Gold The world was at war in the 1940’s. Most of
I was about 11 years old and had a job, delivering
newspapers for my father’s candy store. It was late December and, while everyone was worrying about
our boys serving in No one was more patriotic than blue collar families in Defense plants paid our men and women workers top
wages. Local businesses got by with
limited inventory, shortages and priorities. Whenever a request for merchandise couldn’t be filled, the
wise-guy answer was: there’s a war on, moron. My newspaper delivery route started after public school and
before Hebrew school. I’d come home to
our apartment over the candy store, demolish milk and cookies and put my
newspapers in order. Everyone ordered The Advocate, our local daily. Others ordered My route began directly across the street from our store, at
Mrs. McDonald’s apartment.
She was a tiny lady with a big brogue and an even bigger heart. She invited me inside, reached into a tiny change purse and
handed me a fifty-cent piece.
“I really wanted to wrap it with fine holiday ribbons,” she said with a
smile. It was good to see her smile
since Tommy, her only son was sweating out his draft board
deferment. (Mrs. McDonald used to be my second stop until rich ol’ Mr.
Hoyt, the banker, fell out of his tree, getting some cuttings for his
girlfriend. His maiden sister cancelled the delivery service, saying it
wasn’t worth a nickel a week not to cross the street to buy her newspaper.) Mr. Convery, the undertaker, came after Mrs. McDonald. He left me a dollar in an envelope with my name written on it. (Dad felt queasy about Mr. Convery.
“Tommy looks at you like he’s measuring you for a coffin,” he said.) Mrs. Thompson was my daily challenge. She kept about 10 cats and only one litter box.
I held my breath as I left her paper on her porch, I turned left at the corner to the them “Grace and Tom”.
I was taught that, until I got older, I should respectfully call them “Mr. and Mrs. Next was Mrs. Murphy, an aged lady who never spoke to
me. She
lived with her granddaughter, Jeanne, who used to be my babysitter. The balding old lady always sat in her
kitchen, behind an open bottle of Jamison’s Irish Whiskey. The Singletaries came next.
They were another two newspaper family.
She loved The Advocate because it printed news about her friends. He liked The N.Y. Sun’s columnists. I returned to Mobil service station.
I appreciated their air conditioning in the summer and the warmth in the
winter. The mechanics and pump jockeys liked me and kidded me. They collected five dollars as my Christmas gift. After Ray’s, I walked the longest stretch on my route, about
a quarter mile to Miss Jo Hanrahan, who lived with her politician brother in a pleasant white house with black shutters. John left my gift with my Dad in the
store. (I’m sure he sought a favor from
dad.) As a schoolboy, the most cash I ever carried was milk money. Now I was loaded at gift-giving time. So after I delivered my last paper, I “skipped” town’s main shopping area, beautifully decorated in holly
and ivy—plus some slushy residue. My first stop was The Squire Shop where I bought my dad a
hideous Gold-tone tie clip with a three-engine airplane design. When I gave it to him, I said, “I hope you
take your first airplane ride soon.” I walked on to a cut-rate drug store who wrapped gifts
beautifully. I told the lady that I wanted something very special for my
best girl. She brought out a bottle of Evening In Fast forward some 55 years.
It’s Dad’s jumbo 90th birthday party. As we reminisced, I told stories about my happy boyhood, including the tie clip incident. “Excuse me,” dad said as he walked into his bedroom and
returned with a small, old gift box.
“Remember this?” he asked. I looked at the tie clip.
“It’s as ugly as ever.” “Sure it’s still ugly,” Dad admitted. “But it has such beautiful memories and I
wouldn’t trade it for the world.” 896 words Ron Gold outthinkreumes@aol.com ~**~**~ Tinker and Poo, and Gang We all was setting here, talking about the Christmas
plans being worked up. A few was thinking about joining in on the
music this year. Hope that nuttie bunch of Ma Bakers don't know
about it, last year they about wrecked things so bad. The Angels got a
bit up set with Festus and Josey. They sing off key you know. Up the lane came this little guy. Poo spoke up
first,, said,, " Hey that has to be a Peke, look at that gate,
only a Peke has that rolling gate." Well sure enough, it is a
Peke, A golden color got some black streaks,, and a little white on the
chest. What a show stopper.. and the black face, no problem seeing
the pure Peke in this guy, Well we got him to come our way. and we helped him
get checked in. One of the Dollie Angels came with a blanket, and the
rug, his special bowls, and towels. brush, and combs,, things he will
need you know. We told him he was more then welcome to join our special
gang. Of course we have many of all types in our gang.. We got a
Duke mix. We have some big guys, and gals, then there is little
guys, and gals, and all in between. We all work together, play
together, just have as good a time as we can together, while waiting for
you slow pokes getting here. Any ways we found out his name is Gizzy, Poo said
you know he looks like a Gizzmo. I told him shut up, after
all he got that name because .. just like he got the name Poo for some
reason. Gizzy said his lady Leeuna was such a nice loving person. he hated
to leave, but he got orders to report here, and some times well,
guess God knows best. They had six wonderful years together. Leeuna,, we know your, going to miss this little guy, who
wouldn't.. we can see that he was a live wire while with you. He just has
that Peke trait. always looking into whats this? And he finds out, those big eyes take in every
thing. He already got a couple Angels drawing straws as to who gets to
hold him first, and gets the job of brushing out the tangles in his long
hair from the trip over. Do not stand by my grave too long, remember me yes in
your heart. I am here in the land of never grow old, I have no
aches, just a little heart ache, wishing you were here, and we could run
together once again. But I know some day you too will come running up the
lane, my little bow legs will churn faster then ever to greet you. I
will set here with the others, and look and wait, no matter how long it may be
for you to get here. In the time waiting, remember I am well taken care
of, I have all these doing the same. We all play together, lay
around, have get together parties every day for ones coming home.
And I get to meet all the others of this gang. You know there is a couple
of then that is world famous. Well like me Gizzy, I am famous you
know, I belonged to a lady, name of Leeuna Foster. I will come calling in a
dream now and then, I am not far away, as long as you think of me.
Remember this. I am with the man called Jesus, and if you have
Jesus in your heart, there too am I.
click here ~*~ Rainbow Bridge ~*~ Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book_detail.asp?&isbn=0-595-35741-5 Readers Feedback Mr. and Mrs. Gott - Very touching Debra! Mary M. Dees The Voice Of The Angel In My Ear ..... I too, believe in guardian angels. Although I haven't heard the voice of mine, there have been a few instances where an angel had to be close behind. In my heart, there could be no other explanation as to how I remained untouched by the snarling tooth of danger. I think the goose bumps we get, are an outward reaction to this very real Spirit surrounding us like a safety net. Very well written J.Lewis. I enjoyed it very much, Thank you for sharing. Mary M. Dees Hey Ms Carol, (almost rolling on the floor after reading her stuff!!!!) If it were not for infringing on the cartoon, MAXINE, I would dub that Leeuna's new name......She is a hoot; missed her calling; should be a standup comic.........hehehehehe; bet she laughs all the way to the bank....my take on her! Love ya normie
Contest Submissions that have been posted
only, this means only the stories that have been published in
Storytime Tapestry and not the articles that are still waiting in the
queue. The list gets bigger each day as
more and more stories are added. Please refer to the archives: http://archives.zinester.com/98907 if you want
to reread an article before voting. Name: Title: Date published Ortiz-Lopes, Tannia From
Devine To Human Dec 17 (see special treat) Blaine, Pamela The
Very Best Gift Of All Dec
17 Shaw, Bob Buttermilk Dec
17 Aro A Visit From
Tanner Claus Dec
17 Joseph,
Brian The Gift of
Giving Dec
18 (see special treat) Walker, Bill Rainbow Ridge Special
Report, Gizzy Dec 18 Gold, Ron Christmas
Kindnesses Dec
18 Gold, Ron A Merry Jewish
Christmas Dec
18 Donations are needed to help with the
operating expenses of running the newsletter and to keep Storytime Tapestry the
quality newsletter you are so accustomed to.
Please note that Storytime Tapestry is a
free newsletter to members and there will never be a cost for the newsletter. Donations are purely voluntary and no member
should ever feel guilty for not making a donation at this time. Angels on earth, they exist they are out there. Angels come in all ages, shapes and sizes,
civil status, and religion. Their nature
is love and their purpose is giving to the less fortunate of this world. Storytime Tapestry angels are no
exception. These angels are loyal
members who have contributed to the upkeep of Storytime Tapestry newsletter so
that Storytime Tapestry can continue come to your email Here is our Storytime
Tapestry Angels: Also, I would like to thank those of you who chose to
be a silent angel and gave an anonymous donation to keep Storytime
Tapestry up and running. Clara Westerfer Mark Crider Rosanne Catalano Paula Booher Mary Ellen Grisham Louise Nomani Sharon Bryant Angela Walker Hart and Helen Dowd Keith Ready Mary Ellen Grisham Ginger Morgenstern Ellie Braun-Haley Surinder Jandu 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; Pringle, Sandra Lewis; 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 Carol Roach - Founder/publisher Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator Clara Westerfer – moderator Bob Johnston - moderator |
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