Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

March 18, 2007

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Today’s Stories

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I Remember Her

Bill Walker

missourisage@yahoo.com

I remember her, she showed up at the store every week. A little lady, she was getting some age on, this little lady. She in her little bonnet, and her smile, in one arm, a small load of little magazines. She had a little well worn purse, into which she dropped the coins she was given as she sold them to people as she walked along the streets.  She never seemed to be a pest about it, people would take one and give her a dime, a quarter. She would give back a smile, and a thank you, and be gone.

She was one of those people who comes and goes in a person's life. You know of them, but you know of so many people like that.  It is strange how these walk by you in every day life, you may not notice them much, but they were a part of your life. These are the main stream of the world, the little people, the people most may see, but don't see. Just a person selling something.  You give them a dime, or a quarter, some times I believe it is just a put on act on the one giving the dime or quarter. But never the less, she gave a smile, and a thank you.

I don't remember the last time I seen this little lady, the one with the arm load of these magazines.  The little lady in her bonnet, with the slow walk, from store to store, with the smile, and a thank you.  She is gone now, and no one best I know ever filled her worn shoes. The town is missing the little lady in her bonnet, with the real warm smile, and thank you.

Her name, I am sure she had a name, I don't remember if I ever heard what the name was. She is gone now, that has been 60 years ago. She was the little lady with the smile, the thank you, and was gone till next week.  Selling her arm load of magazines for the Salvation Army. I think the title of the magazine was "The War Cry."

She I guess is one of those like so many others in this world.  We seen them for a short time, and now those are gone. We may think of them once in a while. that person of Little Note.  The world is sad to day, a person of Little Note is remembered.  The little lady of yesterday year, the one with the arm load of magazines, the bonnet, the smile, and the thank you.

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

HEROES FOR TODAY

            Growing up, I never thought of my Dad as a hero.  He was a good guy.  I loved him, and we got along great – as long as I kept the lawn mowed and didn't sass Mom.

But a hero?  Nah.

            My heroes were more . . . you know . . . heroic.  One of them wore Yankee pinstripes with a big number 7 on his back.  I had every baseball card ever made featuring Mickey Mantle – including the rookie card that is worth about 30 gazillion dollars today – until I went away to college and Mom went on one of her infamous cleaning binges.

            The Smothers Brothers were also my heroes.  I bought all of their comedy albums, and I had their comic patter memorized.  I learned to play the bass and I dreamed of one day doing shtick with my guitar-playing brother Bud.  He'd be the good singer, of course, and I'd be the funny one – except we'd have to adjust the “Mom always liked you best” routine, because . . . well . . Mom always liked ME best.

            And then there was JFK.  In my then-8-year-old mind, President Kennedy lived and died larger than life.  His assassination, and the attendant national mourning, made a huge impression upon me.  I don't think it's coincidental that I was idealistically political throughout junior high and high school – and that I've steadfastly avoided going to Dallas.

            Of course, those heroic images have been tarnished somewhat over the years.  Time and truth have a way of altering perspective – heroic or otherwise.  But back then, my heroes gave me something to strive for, something to dream about, something to become.  And I can't help but wonder where my children are looking for their heroes today.

            The sports world?  That's a scary thought.  The names of many of today's most popular athletes appear on police blotters as frequently as they appear in box scores.  And the athletes make no apologies, claiming they never asked to be role models.  Then they turn around and sign huge endorsement deals with the implication that their name on a product will make a difference at the cash register.  In other words, they take credit for influencing your behavior in the mall, but deny any influence elsewhere.  That sounds like a cop-out to me – and hardly heroic.

            The entertainment world is similarly frightening.  The film, television and music industries seem to celebrate the vile and vulgar, and many performers lead lives that are publicly awash in immorality and abuse.  Today's Lalaland standard is “no standards,” and the moral objective is amorality.  Even the characters that are portrayed in movies and TV programs tend to be weak and smaller-than-life, as opposed to the strong, larger-than-life heroes of yesterday.

            Nor are our kids going to find many heroes in the political arena.  There is enough hypocrisy and ineptitude on both sides of the aisle to keep cynical tongues wagging for a month of Sunday morning pundit programs.  Even more troubling, however, is the apparent reluctance of the electorate to hold officials to traditional standards of personal integrity.  It’s as if we don’t want them to be heroic – perhaps because if we expect more of them, they might have the right to expect more of us.

            So where are our children going to find heroes for today?  Actually, they’re everywhere.  You just have to look in the right places: the classroom, the fire station, the squad car, the pulpit. The heroes we’ll find in such places may not be famous or wealthy, but they can be incredibly influential in establishing meaningful goals, exemplary values and patterns for living.  Heck, we can even find heroes in our own homes – like my Dad, who, it turns out, was pretty heroic after all.  I understand that now.  And that helps me understand what my kids need me to be: heroic.

            Even without the pinstripes, the patter or the presidency.

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Poetry Corner

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Center Of Our Lives Is He
Cynthia Groopman

Of our lives, God is the center,
Nurturing, guiding us as our loving Father and mentor.
In times of sorrow,
His rainbow of glowing light kindles hope for a better tomorrow.
In times of victory,
God rejoices with us, triumphantly.
With His advice and counsel so comforting and wise,
His consoling words, inspires our optimism level to flourish and to rise.
With words so calming and dear,
God whispers solace and serenity into our ear.
For, He molded us as a work and art of love,
Crowning us with souls of sunlight and joy from Heaven above.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2005 Cynthia L. Groopman

~**~**~

A Marvelous Dream
Cynthia Groopman

Every night, when my weary body and tired soul settles down,
I lie in bed with a sad heart and am a bit down.
Oh, the cheerful presence of my Mom, I truly miss,
and how I yearn for her loving gentle good night kiss.
For now I am all alone,
and in my mind's ear echoes her delightful melodic tone.
Suddenly, I enter dreamland,
where I am sweetly embraced and touched by a soft hand.
Then, I hear my mom's chantiful voice joyfully sing to me,
and I begin to smile radiantly.
She reassures me as she whispers into my ear,
words of comfort that allay my fear.
Oh, when I awake, I am the only one there,
and I shed a tear and chant a silent prayer.
Oh, I only wish that my life were again glowing and serene,
and that every reality would result from a cherished dream.


Cynthia Groopman

Copyright ©2004 Cynthia Groopman

 ~**~**~

A Rejoicing Heart
Cynthia Groopman

My heart merrily sings,
As soft comforting words of a lovely melody are chanted.
My heart rejoices in a joyful tune,
As Nature's majesty elegantly blossoms and spectacularly blooms.
My heart rejoices as the chirping birds gleefully say "hello,"
And when you are with me, my heart rejoices and basks
in the radiant golden sunshine's regal glow.
My heart rejoices and sings a special song when you hold my hand,
And feeling your presence helps me to overcome my obstacles
existing in my life's land.
For dear Lord, you cause my heart to rejoice and to sing inspiring me,
Filling my cup of life with eternal love and tranquility.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

Copyright ©2004 Cynthia Groopman

Readers Feedback

 Carol,
    Thanks for sharing my article in today's Storytime my friend.  I hope
that your own child within is alive, well, and having a great time today. 
Wishing you every joy, Joe

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