Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

April 23, 2007

Today’s Announcements

Happy Birthday David Wainland: david@davidwainland.com, from your friends at Storytime Tapestry.

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Today’s Stories

~**~**~

The Season has Turned

Louise Nomani

The snow shovel stands by the back door.  I remember putting it away weeks ago at the  beginning of April thinking with some certainty that pring was here.  The calendar said so.  What a joke.  I retrieved it from the shed with the first onslaught of April foolishness and placed it back in its place by the storm door.  In the next three weeks we were buried with three Nor’easters, the first two dumping huge banks of snow to strain one’s spirit and back.  The last grew a river brown and fast and garnished with huge chunks of ice, thick and white, glistening in the sun like chunks of marble.  Did you hear the crack and roar of that ice as it broke up and those chunks escaped?  The booming was like the firing of heavy weapons behind a chorus of lighter gunfire. Those chunks of ice were trying to get away from the April onslaught of weather misery.

This is a season of wishing for a little warm sunshine and a chance to sit quietly to appreciate the changing of the landscape.

Well, it has turned. The season has turned!  Was I asleep when the ice broke up in the river and cleared from the small ponds along the road?  Was I napping when the geese left the cornfield, and the ducks flew to some inland pond where they would raise this year’s family?  Surely I noticed.  The fields have turned from white to brown, but if one looks closely, there are the fragile green sprigs of grass pushing through that mat of brown mulch.  The deer know where to search and in their hunger, they are bold as they come out of hiding and celebrate.  They are shedding their brown winter rugs and their coats look like brown moth eaten sweaters that have seen better days. They are not beautiful in this state but what joy there is in their dance and play.

                                My Daffodils are standing tall and strong waiting to bloom.  Those little Crocuses with their indomitable spirits are laughing in their clubhouse under the Maple.  They are beautiful in purple.  When did this happen?  Wasn’t it yesterday that I fed the woodstove with big chunks of seasoned Birch so I could delight in the warmth?   Wasn’t it yesterday that I put on that extra warm sweater of Alpaca wool? Time is racing ahead of me.  The season is running away, and it won’t stop even as I plead with a “stop, slow down please. Don’t run so fast; this music won’t last” “The Red Winged Blackbirds are sharing their joyous songs, and the Goldfinches are putting on their spring jackets. Myself, I am peeling layer after layer of clothing as the temperature soars to seventy. 

How does this happen?  I shed my red jacket and let it drop on the ground.  I wipe the perspiration from my face and stop the raking for a drink of water.  I unzip the fleece and let it join the jacket.  That’s better.  There is a breeze, and the chill of it pushes me back to the rake and the bags of winter debris.  That sun is so warm though that I am wilting.  Where is the fan?  I can hear the Rhododendrons drink the warmth of this day.  I can feel the ground stretching and yawning beneath my feet. I can smell the damp earth as it sheds the grunge of winter.   My Forsythia will bloom soon.  I can see the green of it, and the buds that will be as golden as this sun. What a miracle is this change of season. It is wondrous!  I put down the rake. I breathe in the sun and the warm air. I sit down and take measure. I can’t put this season on hold; I can’t put it in the bank.  I put the rake back into the shed. 

Louise Nomani

windmill@tdstelme.net

Poetry Corner

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Knowing and wanting God to be there.

Chris Hansen

Sadness made me know, that I needed God to care.

Truth made me realize, that God was really there.

What kind of sadness?  My mother’s casket filled me with despair!

There were joys, to be sure, but death was always there.

What joy has woven together, death will always tear.

When death breaks your relationships, you will never be able to repair!

Forgiveness?  What a mockery!  Death made sure, that even this, I could not bear!

Death demanded: “Truth?  What is truth!  A gem so vital and so rare,

Might be impossible to find, or perhaps, not even there!”

Then, a mangled Messiah named Jesus conquered death, and conquered my despair!

His disciples were so sure of this, they were impossible to scare.

Jesus fulfilled prophecies as easily as a bird flies through the air.

Historical facts make it easy to declare,

That God is really, really there.

Egyptians found out the hard way, that our God really does care.

Millions of Jews were freed, with miracles beyond compare!

Sadness, I stand on truth!  Come, oh sadness, come and get me, if you dare!

Hear me, oh truth!  I stand on a mighty fortress!  My God is really, really there!

Chris Hansen

Author: “Revelation Revisited,” “Secret of the Psalms,” “Grandfather’s Journal.”

1-888-795-4274: local bookstores.

~**~**~

Fruit Of The Spirit

By Chris Hansen

Grow these fruits in me, oh Lord.

Let these fruits be my reward.

Let them be sweet and full of seed,

so others will want what they most need,

so others will want your love and grace,

so others will see your smiling face.

When others are cruel,

in the things they do and say,

in the eyes of this world let me be a fool,

and love them anyway.

When I have gone as far as I can go,

and my sorrow is more than I can bare,

I will be joyful because I know,

that Jesus will not leave me there.

When I face sudden disaster,

and even when I pray, I find no release,

I will still trust my master,

and my savior Jesus Christ will give me peace.

I want the fruit of patience, Lord,

and I want patience, now!

But you say that I must wait, my Lord,

so I guess I'll wait, somehow!

Even the Godless farmer,

receives your sunshine and your rain.

Let me send forth kindness, Lord,

even to those who cause me pain.

The food that is filled with goodness,

is the food that will be consumed.

Let me be filled with goodness, Lord,

even when I know that I am doomed!

The sunrise is always faithful,

even at the darkest hour of the night.

Even so, when others let me down, oh Lord,

let me be faithful, and keep on doing what is right.

A gentle wind can move a giant sailing ship,

and yet it does no damage to the mast.

Let me move the lives of others gently, Lord,

and leave no harm behind me when I have passed.

Lord, let me master,

even the very desires of my soul!

Then I will know,

that I even have self-control.

Let me have these fruits, oh Lord,

and nothing will hinder me, in heaven or on earth!

Can anything stop a woman's child,

when the time has come to bring him to his birth?

Lord, you know my every flaw.

You know each time that I have sinned,

and yet there is no law,

that can stop the blowing of the wind.

No law can stand against,

your love and grace in me.

I have tasted your fruit, oh Lord,

and I know that I am free!!!

Chris Hansen

Author of:

“Revelation Revisited,”

“Secret of the Psalms,”

“Grandfather’s Journal.”

www.xlibris.com 1-888-795-4274 local bookstores.

 ~**~**~

Readers Feedback

 Carol, dear, I have read all of the letters attached to your latest issue. I also read your apology. It was handled very well but I do so admire you for allowing Mark and others to have their say too. I actually feel you owe no one an apology.

We do live in a violent country, no one can doubt that for many reasons. There are guns in my home but we are not hunters. Ray collects old guns; we have several that we have fired and can be used for protection if needed. Neither of us believe in violence--unless we are protecting ourselves. I am not for gun control--except I do feel that automatics should have been stopped long ago--as one writer said the criminals will not follow the law and we who follow the law will be at their mercy.

Ruby's Cafe in Texas, Columbine and Virginia Tech are tragedies for this nation but I do agree that if someone in these groups of victims had been armed, the massacre would have been much less--and short lived.

Thank you for being open to differences of opinions. I don't feel this was either political or religious so feel you were right in publishing both Mark and the ones who answered you/him, whether disagreeing or defending. You will always have my respect for your handling of the publication and your caring for all of your fellowman.

Barb Deming

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