Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

July 6, 2007

Today’s Announcements

This is the GREATEST FUND RAISER EVER. Your organizations keeps all the money paid. No splitting of revenue. The structure is great. You will raise money continuously all year long. The largest amount of revenue will, of course, be the holidays.

You receive FREE web site(s), they are absolutely free, never a cost for them. You simply give away free web sites.

 What I recommend for NPO is that you structure it this way.

Get a free web site for each department, within the organization having the first web site, in each.

The person (you) organizing this within your organization should have a web sites under the Churches sites.

The department heads, free web sites under you.

Then the other departments under the dept heads.

After them the volunteers and employees and congregation for they will be the ones promoting this within their families and communities.

 It is very simple just give away FREE WEB SITES. Every one gives them away.

 You Share, Show and Shop, very simple but very rewarding. Every one can $ave money when shopping. Not only on gas, but time spent in going to the store. Every thing you purchase is discounted and delivered to your door. Then you get paid a bonus on what you buy each month and money from what people in your group purchase.

 There are 1500 stores, including top National Chains participating. More stores being added all the time.

 Now if you don’t want to make any money simply donate yours back to the company you work for.

 If you say you do not have the time I can understand that, so give me all the information and I will set it up for you. No problem. It is a WIN WIN SITUATION FOR EVERY ONE.

 Click on the link below and check it out for your self. If you would like questions answered the answers will be on the site, but feel free to phone me. 702.215.9523.

You can fax me @ 866.410.6310. All the tools needed to promote it are also on the web site, how ever I am only a phone call or e mail away.

Click on this link. www.fast-shop.biz

 Respectfully,

 J. W. Little (Brother Jim)

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

I Believe # 16
Bill Walker
missourisage@yahoo.com


A friend asked me my take on a verse in the Bible the other day. Which put me to thinking about many verses in the Bible. One can read one today, and be so sure they understand just what it is about, and the meaning of it. Read it again tomorrow and see it in a different way.

I was also thinking of the crack pot, and ever so often one of these will pop out of the woods with the claim. They died, went to Heaven, and got told it wasn't their time. They had to return to this sorry earth. But this crack pot will tell what they had seen, heard
and so on.

We all wonder just what Heaven will be like, it is somewhat of an unknown, or is it?

If we go back and read Genesis, the first, and second chapter. I believe we might find the answer. If you will take note, God did something, made something. The words is, "it is good." He was pleased with what he had. Every thing balanced out, each thing was a
perfect. The stars was perfect, the sun was perfect, the moon was perfect, the earth and every thing in it was perfect. There was nothing not good. Then came along Satan, things was no longer perfect. Man sinned with the aid of Satan.

Before Satan, God meant for man and all the animals to never know death. The grass to grow, the birds to fly in clean air, the fish to swim in clean, clear water. Earth was to be a Heaven.

I believe Heaven will be perfect as God planed for earth to be. There will be no Satan to mess Heaven up. Satan and his followers will be toasting in the Lake of Fire.

Now the verse that Friend Keith asked about is Isaiah 40; 31. Isaiah does a lot of telling what is to be. You can read, and study, there is much about the coming of Jesus, the first time that is. Then there are hints of the second coming, and the hereafter. I believe the
verse Keith asked about is when we go home to the Father. We will be as a young person again, full of life, the spring with be restored to our step. We will fly as an eagle. We will have the life we were meant to have until Satan took it from us with his talk. Heaven will
be a place of never grow old, weary and faint.

As to the crack pot and his fast trip to Heaven, and was told it wasn't his time, I think he would like for people to believe him. Remember the Bible does say something about false prophets. This I Believe

We will have the answers to our questions in the sweet by and by. This I believe. Maybe we will be so happy, by that time the questions will have gone away.
Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write
http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book

~**~**~

 MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL

Pamela Garlick

I had had a rough night. I knew I was probably getting sinus infection, but resisted the urge to take an antihistamine before I’d gone to bed, hating the way they made me feel so groggy in the morning.

So much for that! I thought as I drug myself from between the sheets and prepared for my morning ritual. I could now add exhausted to groggy, as how I felt. Or, were they the same thing? I wondered.

What did I care! All I wanted was to start my day so I could get it over with and return to the cozy comfort of my flannel sheets and snugly insulated blanket. Maybe I could then finish the sleep that felt like I’d only started moments before my alarm went off.

Then again, did one ever catch up on sleep?

I turned on the shower letting it work up to a full body of steam while I went to the sink to brush my teeth. I put a fine line of minty fresh paste on my brush before I straightened to face myself, praying for the strength I knew I’d need to do that.

I frowned at the face I saw looking back at me. My skin seemed to have a grayish tinge that clashed with the light speckling of freckles my husband had once referred to as cute. I leaned in closer noting some of those freckles had spread, one blending into the other.

I was only fooling myself if I didn’t call them what they were, age spots. And as if they weren’t enough, I could well see the loss of elasticity of my skin, and was only thankful the mirror only showed my face, because I knew there wasn’t a bit of elasticity in any other part of my body either.

Then to add insult to injury, I saw puffy bags, large enough to hold clothing for a week-long vacation, beneath eyes that no longer glistened like emeralds. Another of the compliments my husband had once bestowed upon me.

Those compliments, like the youthful vision he’d fallen in love with, had gone the way side in the thirty years since we’d met.

"Mirror, Mirror on the wall," I spat sarcastically as I shoved the tooth brush in my mouth. "Who’s the fairest of them all," I said through my foaming mouth as I leaned forward to spit.

I rinsed my mouth and brush then stood again, preparing to face my nemesis, trying to think of the positive: at least I wasn’t doing it with bad breath.

I wiped the steam from the mirror, wondering why I should bother putting myself through more torture.

Suddenly as I cleared a spot, instead of my own reflection I saw Andy Rooney looking back at me. Andy Rooney with a long busy beard. I knew he couldn’t be Santa because Christmas was past by three months.

"Andy . . . Ah, Mr. Rooney," I stammered. "What are you doing in my mirror?"

"I’m not Andy Rooney," the voice of James Earl Jones replied.

I closed my eyes trying to clear my vision, then for good measure I used a Q-tip to give my ears a cleaning since my vision didn’t seem to be the only thing out of wack. The strange phenomena taking place in my bathroom had to be caused by some type of obstruction.

But when I looked again in the mirror, the bearded Andy Rooney was still there.

"I told you I am not Andy Rooney," James Earl Jones restated. "And I am not James Earl Jones, either."

"Then who are you?" I asked, already having a pretty good idea he was actually a figment of my imagination.

"No, I’m real," he replied to my silent assumption.

"Would you answer my question then? Who are you?"

He sighed. "I’m God."

"Ah. . . Yeah," I said doubtfully. Oh yes, beyond a doubt, my imagination had gone haywire. Unless I was hallucinating. Or, perhaps I was actually still asleep. "Just a minute," I said.

I quickly went from the bathroom and back to the bedroom expecting to see my own sleeping figure laying on the bed. The bed was empty, except for Skippy and Shadow, who habitually snuck onto the bed when I excited.

Okay, maybe I’d gotten things mixed up. Wasn’t looking down at oneself was more of an out of body experience? I was simply dreaming. I crawled back between the sheets, nudging my canine companions aside. They grumbled, but didn’t move, assuming once I was awake the bed was fair game. But I wasn’t awake I reminded myself.

I buried my head in my pillow, closing my eyes. Finally after a few moments I opened them again and was aghast when I looked at my clock. If I didn’t get a move on, I’d be late starting work. And that mattered even if I only had to answer to myself. I was disciplined when it came to the hours I spent in my office writing. So, I jumped out of bed for the second time that morning – no, the first time, I amended, making my way to the bathroom.

I waved a path through the steamy greeting, wondering how I had left the shower on. I mean, if I was dreaming the first time I’d entered, I was certainly not the one who had turned it on.

"You may as well turn it off," the voice of James Earl Jones said through the bathroom mist. "You’re out of hot water now."

I tried to ignore the voice and stripped and stepped into the shower, jumping back out again when I realized James. . . er . . .God was right. All the hot water had run down the drain and only icy pelts were streaming from the shower head.

I turned off the water and grabbed the bath sheet and wrapped it around me as I prepared to meet my maker. Literally.

"Okay, if you’re really God, why are you in my bathroom mirror instead of just . . . here?" I said as I again wiped away the cloudy moisture from my mirror.

"Because no one can actually look upon me, have you forgotten?" He replied.

I must have looked puzzled as I thought His answer through.

"This isn’t really Me, you know," he continued. "It’s just the Me you conjured up."

Ah the light was dawning, and not just outside. The reason I wasn’t greeted by blinding light as I looked upon my Maker in the mirror. No, years ago I had confided in an old friend that I envisioned God to look like Andy Rooney with a beard, and having the voice of James Earl Jones.

"So You look different to everyone?" I asked. "More or less how we each expect to see You."

"Only people who are too wrapped up in negativity to hear the One I sent in My place," he replied.

I tried to think who He was talking about. Perhaps my pastor. Maybe my best friend.

He cleared his throat to regain my attention. "Heaven to Pam. Heaven to Pam," He said, then laughed at his pun. "I’m talking about Three. Well, he’s actually also One; just as Christ is One, not Two. In reality the Three of Us are One. You know, the Trinity."

My head was spinning. It was too early for math. Yet, perhaps the most shocking part was when I suddenly understood.

"You mean the Holy Spirit?"

"Now you got it!" He smiled. "You just haven’t been listening to Him lately."

"Well, I’ve been pretty busy," I explained. "Besides a sinus infection I can’t seem to get rid of . . ." I stopped, realizing I didn’t need to make excuses to Him. He knew.

And one look told me He wasn’t buying any of it.

"Okay, I guess I’ve been neglectful," I confessed. "I have been working longer hours. I’ve been spending time with Ken, and the grand-kids. I have neglected to make time for You."

"That’s not the only thing you’ve neglected," God said softly. "You haven’t been taking care of yourself. Isn’t that why you called me?"

"I called you?" He’d said that before. "What do you mean?"

"Okay, I realize that wasn’t exactly what you meant, but I thought it would be kind of cute to show myself to you this way. Not as Andy Rooney; I explained that. No, I mean, in the mirror."

Oh yes. "Mirror, mirror on the wall," I repeated what I’d said earlier, the first time I’d gotten up. Still not completely certain that was the first time. Perhaps I had been dreaming. And if I was dreaming then, I certainly was still dreaming now.

"We’ve already established that you aren’t dreaming, Pam."

"Okay."

"But it was the second part of your request that I came here to respond to," God continued to explain.

"Who’s the fairest of them all?"

"That’s it! Now, understand I’m not one to show partiality. I love all my children dearly. But when one is so blind as you are, I figure it’s time for a visit. Especially when they stubbornly refuse to hear what I’m telling them through other means."

"And what is it You are trying to tell me?"

"What I see when I look at you."

"What do you see?" I asked, feeling much like I used to when I was working as a free lance reporter who had to sometimes pull the facts out of the person I was interviewing.

"I see a beautiful woman," He replied, then smiled as my cheeks warmed. "It’s okay to blush, it only adds to your radiance. -- You may not have the youthful beauty you once had, but you are still beautiful."

"In a mature kind of way," I replied. "Next thing you’ll tell me I’m beautiful on the inside."

"Sarcasm does not become you, Pam," He scolded. "You really need to work on that. – But yes, you are beautiful inside. I was saving that though. First I wanted to discuss what brought you to the point you needed to call Me. What you saw when you looked at your reflection this morning."

"What I saw was old."

"You’re maturing. That’s the way it is. The way I intended, at least after . . . I don’t think I have to remind you about Eve."

"No. I get the picture."

"Then get this picture," He continued. "You may be maturing, but you are doing some things to yourself that are causing you to age even more quickly than you might otherwise. Not to mention what you’ve been doing to your health. You haven’t been very good to yourself, Pam. You sit hours and hours at your desk, when you need to spend some time getting exercise."

"Oh great," I groaned. "Next thing you’ll start in about my needing to diet."

He frowned back at me, and I knew that was exactly what he’d been about to do.

"I’m sorry," I said quickly. "I guess that’s what I need. I have put on a few pounds. – Quite a few pounds."

"Remember, I didn’t say that."

"You didn’t have to. But for the record. . ." Suddenly I was even talking like a journalist again. "What were you going to say before?"

"What I was going to say is already on the record? My record. Surely you know that you are My temple, and that My Spirit lives in you! So, if anyone destroys My temple, I will destroy him. For My temple is holy, and you yourselves are My temple. Of course, I’m speaking in first person, since it is My temple we are talking about."

What He said sounded familiar. I knew it was written in the Bible. Yet, I also knew much of the Bible was subject to interpretation.

"Excuse me. . . Don’t you think My interpretation is the one that counts?" God interrupted my thoughts, reminding me He could read those thoughts.

"Okay, I realize I haven’t been very good to this temple You gave me," I said. "But aren’t You going to someday give me a perfect one?"

"Am I?" he asked, a wicked smile on His face.

My jaw dropped. But then he winked and I realized He was once again teasing me. It seemed God had quite a sense of humor.

"Yes, Pam, you will receive a new, perfect body when you come to be with Me," He replied. "However, don’t forget the one you have to live with now. Of course, you have the choice to wear it out prematurely. Perhaps before you finish some of the things I’m hoping you will complete for Me."

"What things?"

He shook his head. "I think that’s for you to figure out."

"And how will I do that? I’m not the mind-reader here."

"Listen for the Holy Spirit to tell you," he said, his voice softly fading "And know My words so that you will understand when He does speak to you."

"But how. . ." I started to ask, but even as I spoke the vision in the mirror disappeared and was replaced with my nemesis. I was ready to stick out my tongue at myself, but stopped, remembering that was the reflection of the temple God gave me. I smiled instead. "I am going to start treating you better," I promised.

I stared at myself a moment longer. Then suddenly I remembered how late it was. Then I smiled and decided to go a little easier on myself. I could go back to bed for just a few moments longer. After all, something monumental had happened that morning. I needed to rethink the priorities of my life.

I heard the sound of the shower as I awakened, and I was reminded of the strange dream I’d had. Indeed, when you got past God looking like Andy Rooney with a beard, and having a voice like James Earl Jones, there was the underlying message. I had been neglecting the temple God had given me both physically and spiritually. It was time for a change.

Yes, perhaps the dream had been a warning. It didn’t take a knock on the head to get through to me. I stretched preparing to rise and start my day early.

Suddenly I heard Ken’s voice crying out. I jumped up and raced into the bathroom, wondering if he had fallen in the tub. Instead I found him shivering with a towel wrapped around him.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"After I scrape the ice off my body I will be," he replied. "Something must be wrong with the water heater. We’re out of hot water."

I looked at the mirror and smiled. "I don’t think the water heater has anything to do with it," I said. "I’ll tell you all about it over a healthy breakfast. Then afterward you can take a nice hot shower."

Pamela Garlick

K_P_Garlick@msn.com

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

I Missed You
Cynthia Groopman

I missed you, these words are true.
From you I wanted so much to hear,
because you are a sister so kind, sweet and dear.
I missed you today,
how you brighten up my life in every way.
I missed your kind words and sentiments of love,
because you are a blessing to me from Heaven above.
So please write and I shall write back,
that we shall renter friendship's right track.
So dearest, I missed you, that is all I can say,
and for you I shall pray.


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

~**~**~

 America's Greatness
Cynthia Groopman

From sea to shining sea, the bell of freedom is triumphantly ringing
As we pay homage to you, dear USA in heartfelt songs
That we are rejoicefully singing.
Lady Liberty's glowing beacon led us to your blessed shore,
Where God gave us Divine keys to open up this enchanted-Land's
Golden door.
You, our native land, are so precious and so dear,
Where we can live safely freedom from want and from fear.
Where your populace is of great ethnic, religious and racial diversity
And we join hands, sipping from the cup of brotherhood and live in
Peace and harmony.
Where there is justice for all, happiness and liberty,
And everyone is accorded respect and human dignity.

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

 ~**~**~

 I Shall Not
Cynthia Groopman

I shall not be angry or hate my brother in my heart,
And evil thoughts and harsh stinging words to him I shall never impart
I shall not show hostility and nor shall I yell,
And lies about others, I shall never tell.
I shall not be selfish, cruel or rash,
I shall be careful, take my time, and not hurry in a flash.
I shall always extend a helping hand and lovingly share,
And I shall never be apathetic and shall always care.
Oh, Dear Lord, please give me strength and determination,
patience and courage to attain all my desired goals,
I shall make a profound, positive difference in the lives of others,
with a clean heart and a pure soul.


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

~**~**~

Morning Glory
Cynthia Groopman

Cool crisp breezes joyfully whistle
As the gray shadows of dawn begin to crown
the sleepy face of the awakening sky with a hueful luster
The first rays of dim yawning light begin to glow,
Casting its gleam of energy over the weary eyes of the rising sun.
The once brightly twinkling morning stars stretch in sadness,
as they bid farewell to the laughing moon.
As the magnificent colorful sunrise pictorially fulfills
its promise of the dawning of a brand new day to us.
All of the cheerful birds raise their melodic voices in unison,
chanting the lovely tune of the morning glory song.
That pay tribute to God for renewal and hope
of the splendor of a brand new beginning.


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

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