Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

Feb 19, 2007

Today’s Announcements

Today’s Stories

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A TRIBUTE TO A LOST FRIEND

By David Wainland

About eleven years ago this month I was exhibiting in an outdoor art festival and if you are at all familiar with Florida, you will know how hot it can get. Outside of my tent, the temperature had risen to almost ninety degrees and the humidity matched in numbers. Inside the tent, away from the glaring sun it might have been a slight bit cooler but the air was very still and thick. On the horizon an early summer storm was brewing, heavy black clouds hung like window curtains and I was fully expecting an immanent downpour.

I was busy securing my merchandise against the weather when a woman, three leashes in hand, paraded by with the most unusual dogs I had ever seen. They were Greyhounds and the first time I had come this close to one of them. The dogs had lean racing bodies, muscular hindquarters, heavy chests, and small heads and were every color but gray.

The young woman paused in font of my exhibit and examined my work, admiringly I hoped. Meanwhile the long tongues of the Hounds were reaching almost to the grass.

“Are they thirsty?” I asked.

“No, that is how they deal with the weather. These three are just off the track and are not used to doing a lot of leash walking.”

“Real racing dogs?” I asked in amazement and she nodded yes. “What are you doing with three of them?”

I was about to learn the history of these poor suffering animals and their treatment at the hands of their owners and trainers. How, after running their hearts out in an effort to become champions, many of them were destroyed, literally thousands every year. Some were “Humanely destroyed,” others suffered more horrible and lingering deaths.

My heart opened and I inquired how I could personally obtain one of these beautiful beasts.

“By talking to me.” She said. It turned out that she ran an adoption agency for Greyhounds and these were amongst the many that she had saved.

My son Jeremy was living in Israel at the time and he selected her name, Jaffa. It means pretty.A few months later, I acquired a second, they are like potato chips, and you cannot have just one.

Our second, Littlebit, did not fare as well and finally succumbed to track induced injuries in 2003. However, while she was alive, the two of them romped, played and enjoyed every moment of their lives.

They became, “Forty mile an hour Couch Potatoes”

Jaffa, my first, stayed with me until today.

Through the years, she has given us her unrequited love and devotion, and seen Jamie and I through the most desperate of moments in our lives. In return, she asked for little, a drink of water, a bite of food, a place to sleep and an occasional scratch behind her ear.

I TRUST THERE ARE RABBITS IN HEAVEN

R.I.P. JAFFA, 1993-2007

David Wainland

david@davidwainland.com

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Sharing Jesus in a Song, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

Chris Hansen

You remember the scene, don’t you?  The Movie is “The Wizard of Oz.”  Auntie Em with an exasperated tone says to Dorothy, “Just find a place where you won’t get into any trouble!”  Dorothy begins to daydream.  She says to Toto, “Do you suppose there really is such a place?  A place where you won’t get into any trouble?  Beyond the moon?  Beyond the rain?”  Then she begins to sing this classic song:

“Somewhere, over the rainbow,

Way up high,

There’s a land that I heard of,

Once in a lullaby.

Somewhere, over the rainbow,

Skies are blue,

And the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true!

Someday, I’ll wish upon a star,

And all my troubles will be far

 behind me!

Away above the chimney tops,

Where troubles melt like lemon drops,

That’s where you’ll find me!

Somewhere, over the rainbow,

Bluebirds fly.

They fly, over the rainbow.

Why then, oh why, can’t I?

If happy little bluebirds fly, beyond the rainbow,

Why, oh why, can’t I?”

I wondered if I couldn’t use this classic song to communicate a precious truth about Jesus.  What Dorothy wished for in a daydream, is in fact reality!  What Dorothy heard about in a lullaby is a real place for those who have put their faith in Jesus!  So, as I pondered this sweet truth, I began to put new words to this old song, to explain an even older truth. 

Somewhere, over the rainbow,

High above,

There’s a place that I heard of,

When I heard of God’s love!

Somewhere, over the rainbow,

Things are new,

And the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true!

Someday, I’m going far away,

And all my troubles will be far behind me!

Someday, when Jesus comes for me,

And when my Savior’s face I see,

That’s where you’ll find me!

Somewhere, over the rainbow,

Angels fly.

They fly, over the rainbow.

Why then, oh why, can’t I?

If happy saints and angels fly,

Beyond the rainbow,

Why, oh why, can’t I?

I am quite sure this song will touch someone who has just said goodbye to a precious loved one.

Chris Hansen

chrishansen54@sbcglobal.net

Author:

“Revelation Revisited,”

“Secret of the Psalms”

“Grandfather’s Journal.”

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Poetry Corner

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Just Another Day

Cheryl Williams

The curtains billow in the breeze of early morning,

before the sun has risen, and the birds sing to one

another in their attempt to greet the dawn;

It sounds to her as if they are singing “warning, warning.”

She lies in bed, listening to the sounds of the house;

Water dripping from the faucet,

the sounds of snoring from those who can sleep;

She waits for the sound of his footsteps as they

come creeping down the hall, and she feels frozen in fear;

Her soul screams to her to get up , but her body is paralyzed;

She is so afraid.

And when she finally hears the footsteps, so familiar,

she closes her eyes tightly, pretending to be asleep as

she listens to the sound of the door slowly opening

and then closing again,

and then his breathing, and the

sound of the bed as it slowly sags beneath the

weight of one who is not welcome.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he says,

and she feels her body tense and her eyes refuse to open;

Maybe if he thinks she’s asleep, he’ll go away;

Maybe he won’t continue on.

She closes her eyes tightly, and feels his breath

come closer as he shifts his weight on the bed,

and she leaves. She leaves to a far away place that

she has only visited in her dreams.

The water is the bluest blue she has ever seen, and

the frothy waves frolick near the shore as children

laugh and play, building their castles of sand;

She is there too, dancing barefoot in the sand, feeling

it squish between her toes. She is twirling around

and around, laughing in delight as the breeze whips

her hair around her face. She feels so joyous and so

free. There is no darkness in

this place, no fear, and she doesn’t want to leave;

But her room calls her back, and she opens her eyes

to find that he is gone.

She reaches up and feels her cheeks wet, and knows

that she must have been crying. A flood of relief

runs through her when she realizes that he is gone.

She breathes deeply and steps out of the bed,

planting her feet firmly on the floor, knowing it is time

to get ready for school.

Just another day.

Cheryl Williams

Politicalgirl04@aol.com

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Readers Feedback

 Dear Sharon,

I am sorry about your white valentine story but you can look back at it as an experience but where the elec can opener is concerned, I am with you all the way.  Recall when we were facing the new century with possible predestines of loss of utilities and etc?   I went to the hardware store and purchased a nice

hand can opener and  I have not used an elec once since.  Another neat thing to remember, it doesn't take up any counter space as so many of our gadgets do so long live the manual can opener.......Great story  and I always enjoy what you have to say!   Love,  Norma Liles    p.s. We have been having a lot of snow here in Ohio plus frigid temps but I think (?) we are going to start a thaw next week with promise of temps in the 40's...........heat wave? Normie

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