Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

Feb 18, 2007

Today’s Announcements

This is the last day for valentine contest entries.  Thank you everyone for your participation.  Contest rules for judging will follow shortly.

Today’s Valentines Stories

~**~**~

Among my Valentine souvenirs

Norma Liles

I have always had a special feeling for jewelry which is in the shape of the cross even though it does represent the death of Jesus it did not keep Him in that realm.

Over the years, I have received cross jewelry plus I have purchased it

as a necklace or earrings.  It is just a thing with me as I am very christian oriented.

There is a history behind this particular piece which was a gift to me from

my late boyfriend.  At that time, he was a semi truck driver and found something here and there that someone had lost but not having any idea who it belonged to, he would give it to someone close to him. 

This piece that I am referring to is a of a Florentine design cross which he almost stepped on as he walked from his truck to the truck stop.

When I saw him the next time when he was in my area, he showed it to me and asked if I would do him a favor of taking it to a jeweler and have them add a nice chain to it.  I did this for him and he thanked me as well as reimbursed me for the cost of the chain.  I walked away and forgot about this incident.

The next week was Valentine's day and so he called to ask me to go to dinner with him which I accepted.  After we had eaten our meal, we ordered dessert and while we were waiting, he handed me an envelope which held a valentine card and inside of the card was the very cross that he had me to have the chain attached.

It goes without saying that I still keep the cross as a precious momento of valentine's  day.

NormaLee Liles ©

hoopla214@yahoo.com

Norma is an Ohio native, senior citizen; happy in her own skin, loves the Lord God Almighty, her family, her friends and her computer; pretty much in that order! Her hobbies include reading, writing poetry, stories, a few songs; loves to sing; and prefers southern gospel music. She is retired from the busines world where she worked as a data entry operator/supv; is number nine of ten children; is looking fwd

to her next birthday which will welcome #77. (Oct)

Her writings have been featured on: Starfish, Driftwood, Sandollar, Morning Spirit Lift, Prayer of God, Jan Karon, American Poetry Writer's League, Lucy's Inspiration, Faithful Hope reading room, Poetry of Today, Hope in Him, Bonnie's Place, America will remember, News Moose, Penworm Prayer Warriors, Angels on Earth, Canadian Memorial page, Eternal Ink, Heartcatcher and senior writer for Storytime_Tapestry.

~**~**~

I Thought I Was the Only Balloon

Michael T. Smith

            It was Valentine’s Day. I was in a new job. My boss walked up to me and handed me a red, heart-shaped balloon, “Happy Valentines Day, Mike!” 

            My cubicle is one of hundreds in an acre of cubes. If I go to the bathroom, the lunchroom, or am just coming in to start my day, I’m lost. Every cubicle looks the same.  I tied the balloon to the wall of my cubicle, “There!” I thought to myself. “Now I’ll be able to find my cube.”

            An hour later, I stood up and looked around. Every cubicle had a red, heart-

shaped balloon tied to it. For a short time I thought I was different, but I was wrong. I was not the only balloon. Memories from the past came flashing back.

            “Stop shaking the floor!” Dad yelled.

            We were three boys in a four room house. I was the youngest of the family. Our house was so small, it was impossible not to bother our father. We tried to walk softly, but the floor shook and upset him.

            I was 18, when we got an indoor bathroom. Before that, we used an outhouse.

We were poor and knew it.  My friends had indoor bathrooms, but we went outside to use ours. We trudged through the snow to do our business, even when it was -25 F or lower.

            Years later, I had my own home and family. Our house sat on the side of a hill, with a great view of the cove below us. The ocean currents filled the cove with fresh water and provided for the osprey and bald eagles who fed there. They were wonderful to watch.

            The company I worked for at that time made major changes. After fifteen years of service, I was let go. I had to move. It was another hard time in my life. I was separated from my wife and kids. It was a year before we were back together. We weren’t separated because we wanted to be, it was the circumstances of my work. Later, we moved again and then again. Life wouldn’t allow us to stay in one place. Years later, my wife passed away due to illness. I always seemed to be in a maze, alone, struggling to find my way.

            In every case, I thought I was the only one, but I was wrong. There were other kids who used an outhouse, other people who moved, and other spouses who lost loved ones.

            We feel like we are facing unique problems, but in reality, we’re not. No matter what we face or how lonely we feel, there are always others suffering the same. I thought I was the only balloon. I was wrong.

Michael T. Smith

msmith4@nj.rr.com

~**~**~

  It’s “My” Day - Valentines Day

            Michael Smith

            It was Valentines Day. I looked at the beautiful woman at my side. “I love you!” I said softly to Ginny.

            She looked up, “I love you too!”

            “I love you more!” I smiled.

            Our little ritual would go on all day. “I love you! I love you more!”

            In the first months of our relationship, I always loved her more.

            “Wait a minute!” Ginny said one day. “How come you always get to love me

more? It’s not fair! I want to be able to love you more.”

            We created a schedule. I get to love her more on Monday, Wednesday, and

Friday. Ginny has Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. We split Sunday in half. We each have equal time to love each other more. Each time I speak to Ginny on the phone, look into her eyes, or hold her, we speak our words of love - one loving the other more. It has been this way since we‘ve been together.

            I get confused sometimes, forget what day it is, and say, “I love you more.”

            Ginny is quick to respond, “No way! It’s my day! I love you more!”

            A few weeks ago, Ginny and I had our grandkids for the weekend. They were

running around, playing, laughing, and crying. They did all the things young children do. They kept us busy for two days.

            On the second night, after they went to bed, Ginny and I were sitting on the sofa exhausted. She was on her computer; I was on mine. I looked up, “Ginny, I love you!”

            She turned to me, smiled, and replied, “I love you more!”

            “No! It’s my day! I love you more!” We both smiled. She slid across the sofa

and into my arms.

            I held her and realized, we had not voiced words of love all day. The boys kept us so busy, we didn’t even take the time to say, “I love you.”

            It has been a long time since Ginny and I have had young children in our home. I asked myself, how many couples start out with love and promise in their future? How many couples started out saying, “I love you!” and “I love you more!” and later, when life got busy, forgot to say it? How many marriages have ended, because couples forgot to take a moment from their busy lives to say, “I love you!”?

            The weekend alone with our grandchildren made us both realize, we need “our”time. Every couple needs “their” time. We need time, if only a few minutes a day, to say, “I love you!”

            If you love someone, please take a moment to say it. Your heart will swell when you say it. It will burst when you hear it in return.

            I pray you have someone to love. I pray even more that you make everyday

Valentines. Don’t wait for a special day, to tell someone close to your heart that

you love them.

Michael T. Smith

msmith4@nj.rr.com

~**~**~

The Best Move

Michael Smith

            Ginny and I sat on our deck played scrabble and enjoyed a warm summer night.  The stars were shined, a light breeze cooled our skin. The game progressed - our scores  close. Ginny formed a word. It extended to the bottom of the board - the last letter placed  between two “triple word” squares.

            It was my turn. I stared at my tiles. My eyes opened wide. There it was - the move  of my life - “Faltered.” It word spanned both “triple word” squares. I scored 140 points, a personal best.

                                                ***********************

            Life is full of tiles. They’re all in front of you, but they’re upside down. You don’t know what they are until they’re picked up. You can’t handle too many at one time. You’re only allowed to choose seven.

            You have seven tiles of life in front of you. You stare at them and think to

yourself, “Life starts here.” They’re lined up, but they make no sense. You move them  around, trying to arrange them into something logical, but you struggle. The first move  has to be right.

            The letters come together into a word, but it’s a small one. Will you use it or keep struggling and make a bigger word? This is the beauty of the game - you get to replace the tiles you use. Are you going to make small moves, only to pick up a couple of tiles? Remember, the more you use, the more you can pick up - more opportunities.

            Later in life, if the tiles are put together right, you’ll get to have a partner to

play with. Their words become stepping-stones for yours. Each decision has an affect on  the other’s.

            Time goes by. The last tile is placed on the board. The game is over, but the

words you created live on. They are the children fostered, decisions made, friends found, work done, and the life lived. We start with the same number of tiles. How we use  them is up to us.

            My 140-point score? It represents the day I married Ginny, the day our words came together, the best move I ever made.

Michael T. Smith

msmith4@nj.rr.com

Blessed

Michael Smith

            My wife passed away in October 2003 from complications brought on by years of alcohol abuse. I joined an on-line support group for widows and widowers and met a wonderful woman - Ginny. Her husband had died from the same symptoms caused by alcohol abuse. In May of 2004 she moved from Charlotte, NC to New Jersey to be my wife. I have never been so happy.

            During the summer after we married, we spent a lot of time on our deck reading. One day a memory returned to me.

            Many years ago, when I was in my early teens, my dad was in the hospital to have a lump removed from his neck. Across the room from him was a man. We were visiting my dad one day, when this man's wife came to visit. They kissed, she pulled up a chair, and they talked for a few minutes. Soon they both opened their books, and for an hour were completely content to just be together, no words were needed. They took great comfort in just being together. After an hour or so, they closed their books, talked for a few minutes, kissed and she was gone.

            This happened about 30 years ago, and the memory comes back to me often.

I remember thinking, "That is the kind of relationship I want." Quite a thought for

a kid in his mid teens, however, I knew that was what I would like in a relationship.

Ginnny and I spend a lot of time out on the deck reading. The other day we were

reading, our feet sharing a stool, and no words being spoken. Once in a while I would look up and say, "Gin, time for an 'I love you break', She would look up, I would say, "I love you, sweetie, and now back to our story." and I would read again. A smile came to my face when I realized I have the relationship I dreamed about 30 years ago. I have been blessed.

            Ginny inspires me to write poetry, something I hardly ever do. My heart

is filled with feelings for my new wife. I have to write them.

            Here are two:

And That's You

Michael Smith

When Life's storms raged with cold, snowy winds,

There appeared someone special,

warming my heart.

And that's you.

A life of winter had descended,

But a new spring came,

bright green hope.

And that's you

When death's ugly shadow cast deep, dark gloom,

An angel swooped down

New life

And that's you.

Life's choices, a series of doors.

Sometimes we choose, sometimes we're pushed.

New door opened; the path was clear.

And that's you.

Ginny, you are my warmth, my hope, my life and my path.

I love you and thank you for coming into my life.

~**~**~

Every Day

Michael Smith

Dear Lord

Every day I look at her

Every day I see her

Every day I feel her love

Every day I reach out, hold her, look to the sky and wonder

what I did in life to deserve her.

At night I hold her in my arms

At night I feel her warmth

At night I hear her heart beat.

At night hold her hand, shed a tear of joy, look to the sky and wonder

what I did in life to deserve her.

All week I feel such joy

All week I melt with every thought of her

All week I look forward to being near her again

All week I think of her, wait to be close her, crave her nearness, look to the

sky and wonder what I did in life to deserve her.

In all my life have I known such happiness?

In all my life have I known such joy?

In all my life have I known such love?

In all my life have I known my Ginny?

I look to the sky and wonder, what I did right in life to deserve her.

Thank you Lord

I love you, Ginny.

Michael

Readers Feedback

 Carol,
    Sometimes it takes a lifetime to learn what love is really all about.  I
am still learning myself.  I hope that you have many happy and joyous
Valentine's Days in the future my friend.
Wishing you every joy, Joe

This is just beautiful!  thanks for sharing it.  love, Karin