Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

March 15, 2007

Today’s Announcements

Happy Birthday Sandi Cassady: BJ.Cassady@af-group.com who is one very special doggie!

Hello Carol

I have come back from India after attending my older brother's funeral in February. You know that my other brother and sister died 15 months ago within 10 days apart.

I am also back from hospital after experiencing pain due to a blocked artery. My angioplasty is on 28 March which is going to be difficult I am told due to my condition. i will be grateful for some prayers for me.

I am complementing this poetry I just read by Diana Doles Petry called "Remember me" It is so beautiful. It reminded me of my son's poem he wrote before he died.

Regards

S K Jandu

surinderjandu@hotmail.com

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Today’s Stories

~**~**~

Me And My Shadow

Leeuna Foster

What is it they say about learning a lesson in life? Once burned, twice blistered or something to that effect. Anyway, I had just suffered through the heartbreak of losing my beloved dog and I wasn't about to set myself up to go through all that again.

Although I missed the familiar click of toenails on the hardwood floors, that special doggie vocabulary I had come to understand, and the presence of another being in the house at all times, losing them hurt too much. I had already made up my mind that I would never get another dog.

Or so I thought.

Then Hubby came in from a short trip into town, and told me that he had stopped by the local animal shelter for a minute and had seen the most beautiful black Lab. I told him to get over it, I wasn't getting another dog. He smiled and said okay. But then he continued to describe the way the dog begged to be petted, how black and shiny his coat was, and how very, very friendly and loving he was. I thought it over for a few minutes then I told him I would go look at the dog, but no promises.

When I walked into the shelter my eyes met a pair of soft brown, very friendly, extremely intelligent ones, and they were attached to one of the most beautiful black Labs I had ever seen.

I wrestled with myself for an entire nanosecond, before I said,"I'll take him." And that's how Shadow came into our lives.

He now has his own room here, but he insists on sharing the bed with Hubby and me. He likes to give us "Bubba kisses" that go from chin to forehead, and wash off all the makeup from one side of my face. He thinks he can sit on my lap, despite the fact that he is the size of a baby rhino.

In less than a month, he has made himself quite at home with us and he now rules the roost, or the kennel as the case may be. He is already spoiled and I know that Hubby and I need to regain our alpha-dog status, but he is so lovable it's hard to scold him. We used this same method to spoil the grand kids and it worked well.

Shadow isn't a picky eater. He'll eat most anything, as long as he has access to it. For breakfast this morning he had a huge bowl of dog food, three milk bones, half of a sock, one little green plastic army man, the cardboard from a roll of toilet tissue and half of my bedroom slipper.

Being the good doggie parents that we are, we wanted to make sure he remained healthy and safe. So immediately following his adoption we rushed him to the vet for his shots and that little clip-clip thing they do to male dogs so they won't ask to borrow the car to take the next door Poodle to the movies. He seems to be okay physically with the neutering, but I think he is psychologically harboring a minute bit of resentment. Perhaps a little part of him seeks revenge. And we all know what they say about paybacks.

Last night I was saying my prayers as I always do before going to bed, and all the while, in the background I kept hearing Shadow chewing and chomping on what I thought at the time was the rawhide bone I had given him. I finished praying, said 'Amen" and turned around with a smile on my face. The smile turned into a shriek that woke up the neighborhood. The rascal had chewed at least an inch off of the heel of my brand new boots. I felt like crying. I had only worn the boots one time, and they were a Ground Hog's Day gift from Hubby.

Holding my ruined boot, I sat down on the floor and Shadow immediately gave me a big sloppy Bubba kiss right upside my face and nudged his head under my arm. He was wearing a big doggie grin that said, "Hey Mommy, I'm having such fun!" Now, how could I scold him after all that?

I convinced myself that I really didn't like the boots that much and the heels were too tall anyway. I can probably still wear them, although I'll be slightly off balance.

If you happen to see a middle-aged lady limping around town with one boot heel higher than the other and all the make up gone from one side of her face, that would be me. Oh, and that big black rhino beside me won't hurt you, so don't be alarmed. It's only my Shadow.

By the way, there's one more thing you need to remember...don't let it get near your boots.

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Leeuna writes a weekly humor column for her local newspaper, Tha Valley Beautiful Beacon.

Leeuna Foster

leeuna@earthlink.net

Self-Syndicated Humor Columnist

http://www.leeunafoster.com

~**~**~

 The Crossing Sign

 Sharon Bryant

The town was built over a century ago.  Even today you can drive through the area and see the old homes with big porches on front.  Something, I always loved, a porch.  Today's homes all have decks.  I never understood how anyone can see much from a deck in the back of a house.  Porches were the 'in thing' long ago.  Folks used to sit on their porches and wave to neighbors as they walked their dogs and mom's pushed baby buggies down the street.

Old Arden's grocery store building is still there.  If you look real close, you can still make out the faded sign "grocery" on the side of the old cement structure.  Many a children used to run into that store years ago with a penny in their pocket.  Mr. Arden used to give them two, and sometimes three pieces of candy for their penny.

The town is only two blocks long.  Businesses which once were booming are no longer operating.  Yet if you know the town, you can stand there with your eyes closed and picture the good old days.

One thing that has never changed all these years is the railroad track.  There's no wooden barrier on the track, just the black and white crossing sign that all railroad tracks have.  There's no flashing lights.  But everyone for miles around knows to stop at the track, look in both directions, listen for a train whistle, then cross when the coast is clear.  The train may come through one or twice in any given two or three days.

I've often wondered if today's driver's training classes teach the kids to stop at ALL tracks.  I was taught whether the tracks had a flashing light, barriers, or just a stop sign and the black and white crossing sign, I was to come to a complete stop.  Most folks do that still today.  But then there are some who don't.

It was 6:00 A.M. when the van pulled up to the tracks.  It was partially dark out, but you couldn't miss the red stop sign by the tracks.  Nor could you miss the crossing sign.  Nor could you miss seeing the tracks.

Eight people were inside the van.  The train whistle was blowing.  And yet the driver thought he could outrun the train.  He didn't make it.  Four of the eight people were killed on impact.  Three were in fair condition and one critical.  I saw the van after it was struck and it's a miracle anyone lived.

I know that Storytime is a place we can write a story and it can be either real or fiction.  This story is real.  It happened three days ago in my state.  The van was carrying eight Mexican's who have been living here in the U.S. for six years.  One of them was on TV the other day and said the reason they were hit is because the crossing sign and stop sign was in English and not Spanish!

I can't begin to tell you, as an American, how furious I became when I heard him say that.  Six years living in this country and he doesn't know what a railroad track is?  He can't read a STOP sign?  And better yet, even if he's from Mexico, don't they have railroads there?  And last of all, how did he have a drivers license?  When I took my last test, I recall many photos of different signs that I had to explain what the signs meant.

Later that day, another vehicle in another town near me was struck by a train.  The next day, two more vehicles were struck by trains, and yesterday, the fifth train/vehicle accident happened in my area.  Five people are dead, and several more are in the hospital, some barely clinging to life. 

Yesterday a train ran over someone who was SLEEPING on the tracks.  I don't know of anyone in my lifetime that has ever used a railroad track as a bed.  High on drugs, or drunk on booze, you may pass out on a track, and I believe that's what happened in this case.

Everyone is in a hurry today.  I've lived on this earth enough years to see the change in many things but some things will never change.  And one is, a train.  I have thought about the lives taken just in the past few years in my area, all due to people trying to beat a train.  Odd are, if you can see the train that close, you're not going to beat it.  Odds are, if your vehicle is struck, you will die or be seriously injured. 

Trains do not have steering wheels.  They can't turn and get out of your way.  They can't back up.  They can't stop on a dime.

They blow whistles to warn us.  And if we are stupid enough to think we can beat that train, all I can say is, "Good Luck."

But to say that an accident happened because the stop sign was not in Spanish, pardon me.  To say the crossing sign was not in Spanish, pardon me again.  I'm an American and my country has always spoken English.  I know what the signs say.  I know what a railroad track is.  And anyone who has been residing here for SIX years should know also.

I learned to respect trains a long time ago, when I was a new driver.  I still do today.

Sharon Bryant

1946@bellsouth.net

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

With Great Resolve

Cynthia Groopman

Trapped under dangerous rubble,
Experiencing deep emotional and physical harm,
Pain and trouble.
Two Port Authority policemen tried to survive,
Thinking optimistically thoughts that kept them alive.
With great resolve, never did they wince, cower or cry aloud,
But were brave heroes, so full of valor, undaunted and proud.
Looking adversity straight in the face,
They resisted death's hateful wicked evil embrace.
With the help of men strong, determined, giving and sharing,
They were sheltered under the wing of the Almighty Father,
Who was so loving and caring.
So, to those who gave their all on that fateful 9/11 day,
I pay grateful tribute in an honorable and truly laudatory way.

Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2007 Cynthia Groopman

~**~**~

Spinning In Crisis Is The World

Cynthia Groopma

Spinning in crisis is the world,
As natural disasters, wars and heat waves sorrowfully unfold.
Tsunamis with power might sweep and swirl,
As tornadoes and high winds torment as they fiercely whirl.
Raging war in the Middle East festers and roars,
 As prices of gasoline and oil soar.
 Power outages causes lights to dim,
As hearts shudder with fright and heads hurt and spin.
Murders and crime create a chaotic scene,
As life is no longer pleasant and serene.
Oh, please dear Lord give us strength to cope,
Kindling into our soul the comforting torch of hope.

Cynthia Groopman

Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

Copyright ©2006 Cynthia Groopman

 ~**~**~

Visiting Loved Ones
Cynthia Groopman

When I was a child, I loved to visit the ones I truly love,
Bringing them flowers, smiles and embraces of joy.
Caresses of deep affection were as radiant as the sunshine's golden glow,
And in a land of happiness I did flourish and grow.
Faces would sparkle with mirth,
For my loved ones were dwelling with me on this splendid earth.
As age and time flashed  by,
Unfortunately the dear loved ones,
Departed as they became ill and did die.
So no longer did I visit them in their earthly homes,
And as a result felt so sorrowful and alone.
Now, I visit their earthly resting place,
As gravestone monuments I hug and embrace.
My face is full of spiritual remembrance,
As spiritual sunshine enfolds me in its glowing radiance.
For dear loved ones, your  love never did depart,
As fond memories of cherished and splendid times,
Will forever dwell in my heart.
Thus, my visit with my loved ones today,
Eased my longing and sorrow and touched my soul,
In a deeply spiritual uplifting way.
Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2006 Cynthia Groopman

~**~**~

Sounds Of Each Season

Cynthia Groopman

Each season has its very special sound,
In autumn the wind whirls the leaves spinning them round and round.
In winter, on the other hand,
Snow flakes pitter patter as they swirl across the frozen land.
In the warm spring,
Majestically, the birds melodically sing.
As summer marches in,
Children laugh, giggle and splash in the pool as they frolic and swim.
For each season is special in its own way,
Always appreciate the sounds of each seasonal day.

Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2007 Cynthia Groopman

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