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Subject: June 29, 2007 - Storytime Tapestry Contributors: Janice Bumbalough Marler; Bill Walker; Cynthia Groopman - June29, 2007



Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

June 29, 2007

 

 

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

 

This I Believe # 9
Bill Walker
missourisage@yahoo.com

There is nothing that will wreck your day, than to run into a self righteous, religious nut. These self appointed people that will tell you that you need them to set you on the right road. This I Believe.

You're going along, standing in your yard, watching the grass grow, the birds coming and going, the squirrel looking for a buried nut. You're enjoying what God has given you. And here this person shows up, to tell you that you've got a problem.

Do these small minded people not read the Bible? God knows what is in your heart, these people only see what is on the outside, and to tell the truth, are blind to a lot of facts about you to start with. A man or a woman writes poems, and stories, in this case the man I am thinking of writes articles. These writings tells a lot about the writer.
This I Believe.

I can take this mans articles as he calls them, and read God in about every line. He may not say so, but God is there telling him the words to put down. He writes of the beauty of this world. The birds, the flowers, the trees, the grass, and yes even the weeds. This I
Believe.

He writes with love of all things in his heart. He is like a light in a dark world. He writes with no flare as to his church belief. You read, and you know he is a man who is a Bible reader, a man who studies God's word, a man who lives God's word. A man who is happy to live God's word. This I Believe.

It is always strange to me, of the number of people who are quick to attack a person, who may write something about the beauty of God's world. I guess maybe the writer didn't write it just to suit someone. I have read the articles this writer writes. I often think what
a nice person. He would be a joy to live near by. He takes time to see the beauty in every thing. He enjoys what he has, and God has given him to take care of. This I Believe.

Remember this, Jesus is everywhere. He walks with you out in your yard, he is with you while you enjoy the blessings of the day. He is not only in some church, but he is also with you while your watching the grass grow. This I Believe.

And Joe always closed off with the words. May every Joy be yours. This I Believe He wrote it from the heart.

This I Believe.

Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write
http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book_detail.asp?&isbn=0-595-35741-5

 

~**~**~

 A Woman of Few Words

© Janice Bumbalough Marler

 

When I was growing up, and television was a new wave length, we used to go across the street to watch wrestling.  Our neighbors had a small black and white tv.  We would eat popcorn and drink ginger-ale sodas.  It wasn’t that my parents didn’t want a television; it just wasn’t in their budget.  Later on, when I was a teen, dad would purchase a floor model television.  Programs were all in black and white and everything was censored. 

 

There was a television sitcom called ‘I Remember Momma’.  Well, I remember my amazing grandmother.  She was born and raised in the beautiful state of Tennessee, USA.  She was born during the late eighteen hundreds in Pitt County.  After she married my grandfather they moved to Cumberland County Tennessee.

 

My grandmother wore her long auburn hair braided and rolled into a bun at the back of her head.  I loved to watch her pull it over her shoulder and braid it.  As far back as I can recall she made an impact on my life.  She stood approximately five feet four inches, if I had to make a guess.  Her teeth were kept in a jar, in the baker’s cabinet; she didn’t put water over them.  When I was older she gave me a few of the containers.  I believe this was her only transgression.  If indeed you can call chewing snuff a transgression.  She wore an apron that covered her entire dress, and she wore a bonnet when she went outside to work whether it was in the yard or the garden.

 

This woman never lost her temper, never used profanity, and never touched a drop of alcohol.  She didn’t eat beef, but she would eat chicken.  You should have seen her chase those chickens, pick one out of the flock, and wring its neck.  It was amazing.  Flip, and off came the chickens head.  Now I know where the expression “I’ll wring your neck” came from.

 

She was up around three-thirty every morning, because their day began at four a.m.  She fired up the large black wood stove, and then she brewed coffee, baked her fabulous made-from-scratch biscuits, and fried fresh from the pig bacon and fresh from the chicken eggs.  The jelly came from the apples and pears found in the field, butter was churned in a cylindrical wood tub that had a wooden cover with a hole in the middle where a long wooden plunger went. She would sit by the kitchen window as she churned.  I would catch her staring off into space, and often wondered what she could have been thinking. 

 

Everything was made from scratch.  The city was entirely too far away to ‘run to the grocery store’.   Their quilts were hand made.  Down was used for the pillows.  I remember being stuck by the quills when we slept.

 

My aunts would help her in the garden, and when it came time for canning, everyone pulled their weight.  They would sit in a circle, in the yard, and peel the fruit.  There was a lot of laughter. 

 

I am reminded of the Proverbs chapter 31.  The sayings of King Lemuel as his mother taught him.  It’s about the virtuous woman.  My grandmother was a virtuous woman much like the woman in that chapter.  My grandmother’s price was more precious than rubies.

 

She brought her food from the fields and the garden.   She was up before daybreak to prepare breakfast for her household and she planned in her mind what she would do that day.  She was never paid for her work, nor did she buy land.  She bartered with the traveling store vendor.  A man, driving a wagon full of notions, potions and lotions, came down the mountain so people could shop from his warehouse of products.  She was a strong and energetic worker, and a hard worker.  She sewed and mended clothes.  She never failed to share with others what she had.  If someone was in need, she gave.  She saw to it that my aunts, my uncles, and my grandfather wore warm clothing in the winter because they lived on top of the Cumberland Mountain.  Winters were cold there.  My grandfather sold stock at the stock market in Crossville.  He was a good provider and well known in Crossville for his honesty. 

 

I don’t recall her making clothing to sale to merchants.  She was definitely clothed with strength and dignity and she laughed a lot.  She was a quiet woman, a woman of few words.  She was kind and full of common sense.

She carefully watched over her children and she grieved when my oldest uncle fought in WWII.  He was injured and sent back home.

 

She was not a beauty queen; her beauty came from deep inside of her.  She was a Christian woman.  I know she was a wondrous influence on my life without my realizing it.  This is why I write about my grandmother and give her the praise she so rightly deserves.

 

All of her children praised her and none had an evil word to say against her.

She surpassed many women of her day, and this day.

 

She has gone now to meet God, and I know God will say to her, “Well done my good and faithful servant.” 
Barbara Bumbalough Marler

poetrybyjan@aol.com

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

Disappointments
Cynthia Groopman


The marvelous tapestry of life is often woven a complicated web of
disappointments, as you already know,
Clothing the beautiful blue sky with opaque veils that obstruct the
sunshine's golden glow.
Like a raging tide, disappointment incessantly pound upon my life's door,
And they are as infinite as the grains of sand that grace the beach's
elegant shore.
Tormenting everything and tossing it brutally out of its way,
Disappointments annoy me in a frustrating mood ruining my day.
A once smiling face suddenly becomes an ugly doleful frown,
And my heart aches with sorrow and I become depressed and down.
Gone from life's happy optimistic scene is fun and festivity,
And my mind is boggled and I lose my creativity.
No longer do I merrily laugh and cheerfully shout,
But I retreat in a corner and I begin to pout.
For dear friends, disappointments are my angry enemy,
Robbing me of peaceful tranquility.

Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2004 Cynthia L. Groopman

~**~**~

Divine Gifts
Cynthia Groopman


Many magnificently wonderful marvelous gift,
the Dear Lord has generously bestowed upon me, and for these treasures,
I pay homage to him in gratitude, wholeheartedly.
A vivid imagination with a mind's eye that can marvel at the unseen,
and the joy and gladness reside in a memory that is cheerfully keen.
In doleful moments of sorrow and despair,
I communicate with Him in meaningful and heartfelt reassuring prayer.
His outstretched hand and mighty arm, will forever guide me with beacons
of Divine light, protecting me from danger and harm.
His calming voice gently whispers into my ear,
Echoing sentiments that are encouraging precious and so dear.
He is my tower of strength and my source of salvation,
And I rely upon Him for space and consolation.
He extends to me a soft gentle helping hand,
Which enables me to live successfully in life's complicated land.
Above all He has given me a rainbow of hope etched into my soul,
Which motivates me to achieve, and to attain my desired goal.
For God's gifts to me, are his abounding paternal glory and
steadfast love, as He eternally showers upon me His everlasting
blessings from heaven above.

Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2004 Cynthia L. Groopman

~**~**~

 

Divine Presence
Cynthia Groopman


Your spiritual warmth is such a comfort to me,
Helping me to cope with adversity.
You guide me every step of the way,
Giving me courage to face each new day.
In doleful moments, you dry my tears,
Giving me solace in calming my fears.
Throughout my life, you gently grasp my hand,
Enabling me to surmount the obstacles existing in life's land.
Your loving spiritual presence is felt everywhere,
And you embrace me with tender loving care.
You have given me a treasured pot of gold located at my rainbow's end,
And I shall forever cherish you, oh Lord, because you are my eternally blessed
and
dearly beloved friend.

Cynthia L. Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

Copyright ©2004 Cynthia L. Groopman  

 ~**~**~

Each Day
Cynthia Groopman


A moment of gratitude, I shall take.
To thank God in a jubilant way,
For giving me each day.
For each day is like an interesting adventure into history,
Presenting intrigue, excitement and great mystery.
Each day is like a beautiful blossoming flower,
Radiating life's sweetness and God's supreme power
Each day is a majestically woven tapestry of
enchantment and surprises,
Dazzling us with picturesque sunsets and
beautifully breathtaking sunrises.
Yet, suddenly each day can be as fierce as a
wild lion roaring with boastful rage,
That inflicts fright and terror upon a once peaceful stage.
Each day can al as be mild as a gentle lamb
that is tame and kind,
Like the glowing rainbow that appears in the
eye of our mind.
For each day is a precious treasure,
A priceless gift that which is a blessing
and brings us pleasure.

Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net


Copyright ©2004 Cynthia L. Groopman
 

 

 

Readers Feedback

 Thank you Michael Smith for bring us Paul Potts.  It is a wondrous thing to feel so moved by a voice.  What a gift---for him, for us.               Louise

 

Does It Take A Village? BY Bill Walker (June 11):  Hi Bill, both of us always seem to have same thoughts on issues around the decaying humanity system.  I realized that everything has a positive and a negative effect.  Good laws end up brewing bad effect.  The garden of Eden meant well for the human race but it ended badly.  The bringing of human race under one umbrella (Nimrods – before the building of the Tower of Babel) meant well but they focused away from God, then God created languages but today one of the most destructive weapon in the world is language barrier; if you don’t speak my language you are not highly welcomed.  All God oriented laws ended up brewing the opposite.  Why?  There is an oppositionist called satan who was called Lucifer.  His intension hasn’t changed, he is even getting more sophisticated every passing day.  When a child was the responsibility of a whole village, the child was maltreated, sometimes was mercilessly beaten to death and government put an end to it but it turned against goodness for worst.  There should be a check and balance in laws protecting people but the check and balance can never be appropriate.  There is porosity in the world’s system.  We can not lead ourselves as human beings – ever since we drove Jehovah away from the affairs of man, ever since the great trouble started and will be until the end of this present system, who knows, maybe the one the scientist are referring to as the supernova meaning the sun in our galaxy – milky way shall one day die.

GEORGEWATERS OJEIGBE – Lagos, Nigeria: gojiegbe@oregun.jhplc.com

 

Imagine if You Can… by By Rosanne Catalano (aka R.C.Kayla) – June 10: I felt your pains and I sympathize with you.  But there is a hope of healing only if you would believe.  I have seen it worked and you are no exception.  If it worked for others it will definitely work for you – the healing Jesus is passing by your doorstep.

GEORGEWATERS OJEIGBE – Lagos, Nigeria: gojiegbe@oregun.jhplc.com

A Beautiful Little Girl by Carol Roach: Most times, we don’t know why evil things had to happen to our loved ones.  I once knew a little child way back then in Benin City.  He was a loved little child and he had the looks of going to be very handsome child.  When I returned back from my Christmas holidays from Lagos, I learnt the baby had died.  It was very sad and I felt a big bang in my heart because I usually smile at the baby who in turn kind of wink and giggle.  Just about 2 years old.  This happened roughly about 23 years ago.

GEORGEWATERS OJEIGBE – Lagos, Nigeria: gojiegbe@oregun.jhplc.com

Dad and The Confessional by Marilyn Nicholson (June 7):  I could just imagine the funny scenario he would have caused in the priest little room.  What a funny dad, some thing to

remember and giggle about now.

 

GEORGEWATERS OJEIGBE – Lagos, Nigeria: gojiegbe@oregun.jhplc.com

 

 

Storytime Tapestry Angels

 

Angels on earth, they exist they are out there.  Angels come in all ages, shapes and sizes, civil status, and religion.  Their nature is love and their purpose is giving to the less fortunate of this world.  Storytime Tapestry angels are no exception.  These angels are loyal members who have contributed to the upkeep of Storytime Tapestry newsletter so that Storytime Tapestry can continue come to your email box 350 days of the year.

 

Here is our Storytime Tapestry Angels: Also, I would like to thank those of you who chose to be a silent angel and gave an anonymous donation to keep Storytime Tapestry up and running.

 

 

Clara Westerfer, Mark Crider, Rosanne Catalano, Paula Booher, Kay Seefeldt, Mariane Holbrook, Mary Ellen Grisham, Louise Nomani, Sharon Bryant, Angela Walker, Hart and Helen Dowd, Keith Ready, Ginger Morgenstern, Ellie Braun-Haley, Surinder Jandu, Bob Shaw, Carol Meeks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 









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