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Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

June 15, 2007

Today’s Announcements

Happy birthday Julia Mendels: mendelsmaison@iprimus.com.au

Happy birthday Surinder Jandu:  surinderjandu@hotmail.com

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Today’s Stories

~**~**~

 Mister, and Sir

Bill Walker

missourisage@yahoo.com

I got called Mister Walker, and the word Sir would also show up.  This is not something I am use to getting.  I get called hey you, it is your time to do something.  This was at the VA hospital in Omaha.  Even the doctors say these words in talking to me about my health problems.  It is not only when talking to me, I noticed others got the words.

I try to tell them, please Bill will do very well in my case.  I was just one of the many standing in the ranks many years ago. I had about three Dollies hooking me up to machine, and sticking a needle in my hand.  I thought for a minute or two I was getting the hook up to put me into the next world.  The machine would tell the lovely Dollies I was gone, could stop putting the drugs in.   The Dollie that stuck me, thought she hurt me,  she said,,
Sir, I am sorry."   I am not use to such nice treatment. Most of the Dollies like her never gives a second thought about some pain they do to me. 

Then after the Dollies had me all hooked up, here shows a couple doctors.  Again the Mister, and Sir stuff. Well one can always figure something may hurt, after all some tests require a bit of hurt,  This one doctor would push some that looked  like a flashlight against my side chest part. Sorry for the push,  I got those words. 

I have been in hospitals,  doctors offices, I never got royal treatment.  I did and do every time I visit the VA hospitals in Lincoln, or Omaha.  That is by the doctors and nurses.  I have ran into a couple of the other kinds, well maybe not the real  royal, but nothing bad either.

Now I had this thing stuck in my right hand. From the way I was laid out, I didn't know if a tube was a IV or not. All I knew was I had a needle in hand, and somewhere this one Dollie was pumping in the amounts of drugs the doctor said.  Every once in a while she would say, this is going to make your heart feel like a race horse.  Heck she was a nice looking Dollie, wouldn't have taken much to get the heart up to race horse speed.

Well the tube some way leaked a bit., wasn't much, but again, the,  "Sir, I am sorry."  I had a wet blood spot on my pant leg. where my hand was placed.  Yes she was a nice Dollie. 

They was nice people,  I couldn't ask for better treatment. 

Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write

http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book_detail.asp?&isbn=0-595-35741-5

~**~**~

 Forest Ranger
by Clara Wersterfer

For several years my husband and five other men rented a cabin at the lake for fishing. About every two months one of us wives would go along and sweep out the place for them and maybe get in a little fishing too.

I knew the names of all the fishermen, but had not met them all. On one visit to the cabin I met Elijah (Lige) Bagley. My husband had spoken of him several times of his ability to fall asleep so quickly and catch fish when no one else got a nibble.

This was our first meeting.
 
That evening I asked Lige if he was related to some one else I knew with the
same last name.

"No I'm not. I was adopted at age twelve, and had a different name before I was adopted." he replied.

I smelled a story and had to hear it, if he wanted to tell it, and he did.
 
Lige was taken to the orphanage as an infant in 1928. He never knew what happened to his parents nor tried to find them. Life at the home was all he knew growing up. It was not a pleasant place but the custodians were not abusive unless one of them disobeyed.
The children were, for the most part, ignored.

A bell called them to meals and woke them in the morning. They had chores and rules which were enforced. Lige's first recollections of the "home" were that each day was just like the day before. Nothing changed much. He never knew when his birthday was
until he was adopted. There were never any kind of celebration except at Christmas when each child got a gift of an apple, an orange some nuts and a candy cane. This all came
in a red mesh stocking which the children saved to put stuff into, like pretty stones.
They had no toys.

Occasionally a couple would come looking for a child to adopt. Several children would be cleaned up and taken out for the prospective parents to look over. Lige was trotted out many times, but for some reason was not selected.

When he was twelve, a couple came looking for a strong boy to work on the farm. Lige was much taller than most of the other twelve year olds and was chosen. For the next six
years he would work from sun up until sun down for his adoptive parents.

Life wasn't much better here; they showed him no affection and treated him like a hired hand. Never once was he hugged or even patted on the back. However, he was fed, clothed, and sent to school until he graduated. For the first time in his life he had a bedroom to call his own and clothes that were bought or made for him and not hand me downs that were worn out.

Lige didn't know what he wanted to do for the rest of his life, but knew he didn't want to stay on the farm with people who seldom spoke to him. When he graduated, he helped out at the feed store, unloading heavy sack. It was there he heard about a job as forest ranger. He applied for and got the job.

There weren't many applicants as it was lonely work. His duties would be to live in a cabin high on a mountain and watch for forest fires. There was a tall watch tower he would climb several times a day and use his binoculars and the telescope to scan the horizon, looking for any signs of fire. If he spotted smoke, he would use the radio to call in and report it. He would then go to where he had seen the smoke and help with the
fire.

It was a dangerous job and once he was completely surrounded by fire. Cut off from the others, he was lucky enough to find a stream of water. Lige's biggest fear was that the fire would use up all the oxygen and he would not be able to breathe.

He walked down steam where there was a big outcropping of rock. He felt this might be a good place as there was a high cliff on one side and rocks on the other. Since no
trees or brush was near the water, he probably would still have enough air.

Many animals were already in the water which seemed like a good sign.
Lige soon joined them. None of them bolted or tried to run. Lige laid down in the water with his body submerged and waited for the fire to burn down.

After what seemed an eternity, he walked out of the woods, went to his jeep and made his way back to his cabin. He reported in, treated his feet that had been burned thru his boots,
and went to bed. At seven am he was back in the watchtower scanning for more fire.

Lige kept a room at a boarding house in town. He and the woman who owned the house became close friends and finally married. They were apart more than together, but Lige enjoyed being a ranger. He was proud of every tree he helped save.

Lige loved solitude, nature and the beauty of the mountains. It was home to him and he would never change jobs. Edith was a wise woman to not try to change him. She didn't even mind the fishing trips, and sometimes accompanied him as she had closed the boarding house.

This was the story Lige told me.

 
Several years later I read his obituary in the newspaper. It was a long article and spoke of his dedication to the forestry service and many heroic acts. Lige was a forest ranger for 29 years, During a particularly bad fire caused by lightening striking a tree, he was operating a tractor cutting a ditch to stop the fire when he had a massive heart attack and died on the mountain he loved. He was forty eight years old.

Clara Wersterfer

cbwest@webtv.net

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

For It is Written

Sandra Lewis Pringle

For it is written:

"I will destroy the wisdom of the wise;

the intelligence of the intelligent,

I will frustrate."

I Corinthians 1:19

The wisdom of book knowledge is appropriate

in the world,

but tending to lean on it, and it only,

is a dangerous thing.

We all need wisdom from God,

Who divines, guides, and counsels,

with His divinity.

Places of Destiny shall not be found,

without His wisdom.

Purposes of the man,

will not be found,

without His wisdom.

Desires of the heart,

shall not be reached,

without His wisdom.

Love, happiness, success, nor prosperity,

shall be found,

without having been sought,

of God's wisdom.

We shall seek wisdom daily,

earnestly,

and hungrily.

Praise God!

© 2007   Sandra Lewis Pringle

Do all, within your power,

to restore GOD in the home,

in America,

all around the world.

America . . . . Nation of Grace and Christian Heritage!

Sandra Lewis Pringle 

slPENT1@aol.com 

†††

Wisdom

 Sandra Lewis Pringle

All paths I take shall lead to you,

even when I might go astray.

No other road can beckon me,

no other can keep me away.

I set my heart on seeking you,

I humbly bend an ear.

The ripples of the current of Life, so dear to me,

are those I long to hear.

I take time to find a comfortable spot;

I rest in your sweet embrace.

There's only you and me, I desire,

as I longingly seek your face.

I find it in the meadowlark's song,

I see it upon the wings of a bird in flight.

I find it whenever the sun has faded,

in the soft, quiet hours

of moonbeamed night.

There is nothing on earth that can compare,

not even mounds of silver and gold,

Nor beauty, which is often rare,

'tis Wisdom, I seek to behold!

© Sandra Lewis Pringle

slPENT1@aol.com 

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