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Subject: January 31, 2007 - Storytime Tapestry Contributors: Robin Lee; Doris Fandal; Bill Walker; Joe Walker; Cynthia Groopman - January31, 2007



Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

Jan 31, 2007

 

Today’s Announcements

 

 

 

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.

 

 

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

 

Symbols

Doris Fandal

Have you ever realized that we live in a world full
of symbols?  In fact, I am beginning to wonder if we
could survive without symbols.  As we drive down a
highway or even a country dirt road, we see symbols.
Most of these symbols are found on signs that are put
there by the high way department for us.  There is a
large round yellow sign with lines crossing to make a
large x and the letters R R on the left and right side
of the x.  That lets us know that we are approaching a
railroad and we need to be cautious.  There are other
railroad signs that have a picture of train tracks on
them.  We again know to be cautious.  There are signs
that indicate a hospital is nearby and other signs for
schools, restaurants, and hotels.  In fact there are
symbols everywhere we go.  We can't go out of the
house without seeing a symbol for something.
I remember two songs that were about symbols. One of
those songs was "Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak
Tree" about a convict who was looking for the ribbon
as a sign that his lover wanted him back after he had
been in prison.  The yellow ribbon has also become a
symbol showing our support for our troops.  The other
song is  "Around Her Neck She Wore A Yellow Ribbon"
about a young lady who was waiting for her lover who
was 'far, far away'.   I wonder if those songs are not
the reason that ribbons began to be symbols for so
many things; pink ribbons for breast cancer, black
ribbons for melanoma, gold for childhood cancer and
the list goes on and on just for cancers. 
But since the fall of 2005, another symbol has been
lurking in the back of my head and I did not realize
it was a symbol.  I think perhaps this symbol is the
very best symbol of all. This symbol is not a picture
or a sign but it is a symbol of survival.  When we
went to
Slidell (Louisiana) to survey the damage that
Hurricane Katrina did to my father-in-law's home, I
saw much devastation and wondered if things would ever
be back to normal.  Then I saw the symbol and I now
believe it is a real symbol of survival.  It was a
small plant growing beside the house in a large
flowerpot.  It looked so alone and out of place until
I realized that it was saying something to all of us
because at the very top of the stem, there was one
big, beautiful pink flower.  It seemed to be sitting
there among all the broken furniture, pieces of houses
and brown mud telling us there was hope; there was a
chance that things were going to be better.  It was
telling us "Hey, I went through that horrible
hurricane and lost all of my leaves and many of the
plants around me have died but I survived and you too
can survive.  You just need to have hope and courage
as you face your problems and you too can survive."
We don't always conquer all of our problems and we
won't live forever but we can remember that small pink
flower, the crocuses that peek out from under the snow
and the blossoms that show up every spring after a
long cold winter and see that survival is possible
even under very bad circumstances.     I have a new
symbol of survival now in my memory (of that small
flower) and I will have others in my yard and in my
home to remind me.  I am thankful that we have symbols
but I especially love the little pink flower's symbol
of survival. 
© Doris B. Fandal
January 12, 2007

mkayla38@yahoo.com

~**~**~

The Fourth Chakra

Robin Lee

 

 Lotus Of Love

The human body, according to ancient Vedic texts, is the seat of a network of cooperating energy fields also known as chakras. At the very center of these fields, unifying and filtering them, lies the heart chakra. This chakra is located over the chest and is often called the heart lotus because its influence radiates outward like the petals of a flower.

The heart chakra is believed by many to be at the core of your emotional being. When balanced, it can be a source of love, confidence, creativity, and inspiration. Discord within the heart chakra can affect all your energy centers, because the fourth chakra is a gate between the upper and lower chakras. The heart chakra can be visualized as intersecting triangles that are smoky green. It is associated with holly and poppy flowers, malachite and emerald crystals, and the element of air. The heart chakra gives us the ability to love, trust, and feel deep compassion for others. A balanced heart opens the mind to the radiating warmth of the universe and makes profound relationships possible. But when imbalanced, those same qualities can become twisted, leading us to feel hate, fear, or jealousy. Blockages in the fourth chakra can manifest as immune system and heart maladies because of the chakra's association with the physical heart, the circulatory system, and the blood.

There are numerous means of energizing and balancing this chakra. Try sitting up with your back straight, and breathe deeply to center yourself. Rapidly tap your heart center, located in the middle of your chest, with your fingertips. Gradually increase and then decrease the intensity of your tapping over a three minute period. Jasmine, lavender, and marjoram scents can exert a balancing effect over this chakra. You can also influence your heart chakra by loving yourself and learning to laugh freely. And while existing without the positive influence of the fourth chakra can leave you feeling disconnected, isolated, and filled with unexpressed emotions, too much heart chakra influence can lead to restlessness, dreaminess, and aimless wandering. The heart chakra is the point of new beginnings. Nurture it, and you will find that contentment will emerge from all aspects of your being.

Robin Lee

onespiritx3@yahoo.com

~**~**~

Do You Ever Think Of Me?
Little Girl by Bill Walker

Little Girl here, I called Tink and Poo and asked if I could use their
e-mail address again. Those guys you know have to be two nice guys.
They both said sure go right ahead Poo asked if I was going to write
another story? I told him what was on my mind. He said sure, go
for it, people needs to be told we too have feelings, and we too wonder
about things of this line.

Do you that had me, and gave or sold me away, do you every think and
wonder about me? How is that little fur ball doing now? Did that
little fur ball find a home of any kind? Did it die, or is it still
alive? Do you every wonder, is it happy somewhere? Does it every
think of me? Maybe you're happy to be rid of me, and my problems. I
don't know, but I wonder what I did that upset your apple cart, and
you discarded me like yesterdays newspaper? Maybe you had reasons to
have done so, I am at a loss some times on the whys?

Well let me tell you I am happy if you are. You see I was one of the
lucky ones. I got taken for a long ride to a new home. I have a home
now, the two guys that called it home, went to Heaven; that would be
Tinker and Poo. I knew when I got here, that this was a place where
people of my kind were welcome. I could tell, this had been a home
where puppies were well cared for. So I was happy after getting moved in.

I get to go see the doc when I need to go, and every month I get a trip
to the beauty shoppie. I have a pick of two beds, guess those
belonged to the boys, but now I can pick which one I would like to sleep
in. I have a nice yard for my very own; a warm house in winter and a
cool house in summer. I get to go when the car moves out to some
where. I get fed and have put on a couple pounds.. I might have to go
on some weight watcher deal if I put on any more. I have a couple nice
bowls for my fresh water that is cool water too.

I get to meet people, when people come here. I am treated as
family, not just a dog, but family. I can stay in the house, and am
not shoved into a bed room, and the door closed. I am family I live
here. I have my toys to play with, and every once in a while I get
a new one.

Yes I am happy with my home, and I think about you once in a while,
not too often any more. Once in a while I do wonder about, I
wonder why, and wonder if you’re happy? I do hope so. I have a new
name now, I am called Little Girl, Sugar, Honey, and yes, Dollie.

So if you wonder about me, I am doing just fine. I have a home,
where I am loved.

Bye for now. Little Girl.
Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write
http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book_detail.asp?&isbn=0-595-35741-5

 

~**~**~

 

ValueSpeak

A Weekly Column

By Joseph Walker

valuespeak@msn.com

 

 

PRAYING FOR THOSE WHO PRAY

Joe Walker

 

            The advice was the same from every reputable source: don’t travel.

            Weather.com said it.  Transportation departments throughout the Midwest said it.  The web site for Madam Helga’s Horoscope and Auto Detailing said.it.  Everyone said don’t travel.

            But Joe Jr. had to.  He really had no choice.  He and his family were here for his big sister AmyJo’s wedding (welcome to the family, Brock!) but they had to get back to school and work commitments on the other side of the country.  “Don’t travel” was not on their list of options.  The only real choice they had was which of three interstate routes to take.

            So they picked the southern route (which seemed to have the fewest number of “don’t travels” associated with it) and loaded up their minivan with fuel, maps and Diet Dr Pepper.  A few minutes after AmyJo and Brock said “I do” Joe and Jen and their three little girls took off in an anxious attempt to beat the predicted winter storm across the country.

            The ice storms caught up to them about the time they were driving through the Texas pan handle.  Joe slowed to 30 miles per hour – sometimes less – and pressed forward despite the icy buildup on I-40 and the dozens of vehicles that were slipping and sliding off the road.

            “The good news is you’re in the middle of the lead story on the Weather Channel,” I told Jen via cell phone during the trip.  “The bad news is . . . well . . you’re in the middle of the lead story on the Weather Channel.”

            A little later I talked to Joe during a fuel stop in Oklahoma.  He sounded tired, frustrated by the driving conditions and concerned about the safety of his family.

            “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed, his voice edged with white-knuckled tension.  “Should I hunker down at the next motel and wait it out? Or should I try to get through this?”

            Thankfully computer technology allowed me to counsel him based on weather radar, road reports and . . . you know . . . Madam Helga.  They pushed ahead, mile by icy mile, until they stopped for the night.  Refreshed, they continued battling the elements through the next morning, and by noon they were cruising along at 65 miles per hour on the other side of the storm.

            I’m sure you can imagine how relieved I was when they finally made it home safely.  As ice storms continued to blow across America’s heartland, leaving a trail of destruction, inconvenience and even death in their wake, I continued to count my familial blessings.  I shared my harrowing story with several folks at work, including Mike, who listened attentively and even shook his head and said “Oh my goodness” in all the right places.

            “I know how you feel,” he said.  “That’s how I felt when my son was in Iraq.”

            Suddenly I had new appreciation for what Mike had experienced during the year his son fulfilled his military duty in a war zone.  Only his son had no family with him.  And he was gone for a year.  And other people were trying to kill him.  And Mike couldn’t get on the phone and use the computer to guide him to safety.  Other than that, it was exactly the same.  Sort of.

            OK, so maybe my experience was completely different from Mike’s.  But those two harrowing days did give me a little taste of what it must be like for the families of our fighting men and women – not to mention the families of our police officers and fire fighters – who must listen daily to frightening news reports while they wait and wonder and pray.

            Which, come to think of it, seems like a good idea: prayer.  Now more than ever we need to pray for peace, in the world and in our communities, and to pray for the safety and well-being of those who fight in our behalf on both fronts.  But we also need to remember their loved ones back home, who have little choice but the waiting, the wondering and the praying.

            With or without advice from Madam Helga

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

The Mirror

Cynthia Groopman

Into the mirror I look,
What do you think I see?
A person standing there that looks just like me.
At first, I smile and then I grin,
And in front of the mirror, like a top, I sprightly spin.
Round and round, I turn,
But there is something that I cannot discern.
Why do I laugh at my own reflection,
As I meditate in deep reflection.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

Copyright ©2006 Cynthia Groopman

 

~**~**~

I Marvel
Cynthia Groopman

As the sunshine warmly glows,
Elation, like a springtime flower, joyfully grows.
As each ocean wave dances,
My heart, with glee, jubilantly prances.
As cheerful birds mirthfully sputter and fly,
I marvel at the vast clear blue sky.
Sitting on the grass so lush and green,
I marvel at my thoughts that are so pleasantly serene.
At each magnificent sunrise and majestic sunset,
A feeling of awe, I do get.
As each season changes spectacularly,
I marvel with renewed enthusiasm, gratitude and energy.


Cynthia Groopman

Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

Copyright ©2006 Cynthia Groopman

 

 ~**~**~

Treasures
Cynthia Groopman

Truly blessed and rich, I truly am,
Although I am not a millionaire,
But my treasures dance with sprightly flare.
A memory of a loved one's hug or caress,
Is more valuable than gold, silver or money, a person can possess.
A loving touch and a kind word spoken so clearly,
Is cherished so dearly.
A smile with its golden glow of sunshine,
Is more valuable than any exotic trip or pastime.
Strong belief in God, blessed be He,
Is more priceless than a safe full of money.
For spiritual treasures come from the heart,
But material ones will quickly vanish and soon depart.
So, I am truly blessed by treasures, such as the mountain of hope,
The rainbow of dreams and the chain of friendship of gold,
And these warm my soul lifting my spirit when I am alone or cold.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

Copyright ©2006 Cynthia Groopman


Storytime Tapestry Angels

 

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 box 350 days of the year.

 

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, Kay Seefeldt

Mary Ellen Grisham, Louise Nomani, Sharon Bryant, Angela Walker

Hart and Helen Dowd, Keith Ready, 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; Groopman, Cynthia; 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

 

 

 









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