Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

November 14, 2007

Today’s Announcement

We have two birthdays today, our moderator, Thelma Hartselle: tlsq@xmission.com and Brigitte Martel:  brigittem@hotmail.com Please send these two wonderful ladies a birthday card.

The Halloween contest is over, the rules for voting have been sent out for the voting for the poets.  You have until November 15^th to vote for them.  I am not getting many responses and I need to have the votes in soon.  The voting rules for the stories will be sent in a separate email within the next couple of days.

Important notice: Storytime Tapestry is a free e-zine, however donations are always needed to help with the operating expenses of running the newsletter and to keep Storytime Tapestry the quality newsletter you are so accustomed to.   You can make your donations to paypal at: winterose@videotron.ca, or if you would prefer to use the mail system contact the publisher at the same email address: winterose@videotron.ca

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

Insurance
Bill Walker
missourisage@yahoo.com

Some people have tons of insurance on many different things, others do
not have enough. I don't know as I have any real money insurance.
That is do I have every thing covered for all loss? I bought a bit of
insurance the other day, I don't know as I really needed it, but I saw
it and thought at the time I might need it.
I all ready have full house insurance, and also car insurance, so maybe
I didn't need this new insurance.
You  know what kind of insurance I am thinking about, don't you?
This was a replacement for my car insurance. I carry a Bible on the
dash of the car, that is my car insurance, or what I think is at least
part of the car insurance. I use it quite often. You see, I use it
when I travel about, and also it makes the trips to church. It is a
small Bible, easy to have, and carry. My old one was getting a bit war
worn. It has been with me since about 1950, been here, there, and
every where, even to Korea. The pages are starting to fall out, and
torn. I figured it was about time to retire it. Oh don't worry, it will
still get used, and looked at from time to time. You see it is history,
has my history written on the pages. Little notes both of things I
learned, and also dates of things that happened to me.
Now I have full house coverage also, I have big heavy Bibles, that has
many fine things. You know each is different in look up pages, and
such. All are the same brand of course, I stick to the King James, I am
old fashioned, many might say. I can't understand the need for the
rewrites of a rewrite of a rewrite.
Any way, I saw this new small fellow, and figured a couple things.
That is I noticed something the others didn't have. Every few verses
was a kind of head line. I already put that to use. I was looking
at it, noticed a head line, and read the few verses that followed.
You know it was just the thing. I learned something. It is just like
going to church. The preacher reads off a few verses, and takes off on
what he read from. Well this does the same thing. A head line, read
what follows to the next head line. Stop and think what one just
read. I might be in this new Bible till the cows come home.
Yep some times it sure helps to buy more insurance, one might learn
something. I might have to go back and buy another one like this one.
This one might become part of the house insurance.
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

ELECTION DAY LOSERS – AND WINNERS

            There’s no easy way to say this: my friend Brad is a loser.

            I know that sounds harsh, but what can I say?  He is a good man.  An honorable man.  A man you’d probably like to know.  He’s a faithful husband and a wonderful father.  He is an outstanding professional, well-known, well-liked and well-respected in his field.  His neighbors adore him.  The members of his church congregation admire him.  Even the local newspaper editor says nice things about him (and you know what curmudgeons editors can be).

            But Brad is a loser.  Pure and simple.

            I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.  This is indisputable.  You can look it up.

            Brad ran for public office, and he lost.

            Ergo, loser.

            Of course, Brad – as incurable an optimist as you would ever want to meet – was philosophical about his new-found loser-hood.

            “It was fun to be involved in the process,” he said.  “It was like a family project, and we enjoyed working on it together.  We met a lot of people in our community that we never would have met otherwise, and we had some great experiences.  Regardless of how the voting turned out, I don’t feel like a loser.”

            But he is one.  It can’t be denied.  I mean, facts are facts.  And this one fact is unassailable: 4,285 votes to 2,865 votes.  Period.  End of discussion.

            Loser.

            As one who knows Brad, it is tempting to say that his community is the real loser in this election, since they lost out on having the services of a bright and talented person.  But Brad would be the first one to say that that just isn’t the case.

            “She’s great,” he said of his victorious opponent.  “I was really impressed with the campaign that she ran, and I’m not at all surprised that she won.  I think she’ll do a great job.  I’ll do everything I can to support her.”

            So just a second, Brad.  You’re going to work for the community even though you lost?

            “Oh, sure,” Brad said.  “Why not?  I got into this because I want to serve my community.  That hasn’t changed, no matter what happened on Election Day.”

            See what I mean?  Is that the kind of thing professional politicians say?  Is that the sort of thing they do?  Unequivocal support?  Magnanimous gestures?  Community service?

            What a loser!  He just doesn’t get it.

            Or does he?

            There was a time when people really did run for public office or work on political causes as a way of giving something back to the community.  They ran because they cared, because they saw a need and wanted to do something to address it.  I’d like to believe that’s still true today – at least, some of the time.  Unfortunately, there are too many political operators these days who are more interested in taking from the community than giving to it, who are driven more by ambition than by concern, and by the desire for power more than the desire to serve.  And if they don’t see a need they’ll create one – as long as it can help them get elected.

            Thankfully, there are still citizens like Brad who get involved for the right reasons.  Some of them even won at the polls this week.  But I’d like to say “thanks” to those who didn’t.  Thank you for caring enough to participate in what can be a fairly painful process.  You are what makes our country, our states and our communities great.  As far as I’m concerned, you’re all winners.

            No matter how much some people around here may want to call you “losers.”

~**~**~

MAKING SENSE OF LIFE

By: Joseph J. Mazzella

     "Does life ever make sense?" This was a question asked to me by a friend the other day. Like all of us this lady had seen a lot of suffering, a lot of injustice, and a lot of insanity in this world.  She had seen parents having to bury their children, good people having to go through cancer, and hard working souls having to struggle to make ends meet. She had seen wars, famines, and natural disasters. She had seen cruel and selfish people prosper while others with more caring hearts dealt with loss and tragedy.

     As she looked me in the eyes and asked me that question, I smiled back and said the first words that came from my heart: "only when you love." I think now that those words must have been sent to me by God, because the wisdom in them eased her mind and touched her heart. We talked peacefully a while longer and she thanked me before going on her way.

     In truth, only love can make sense of this life. It is only when you love that you can grow better and more caring from the pains life brings you. It is only when you love that you can face injustice with a passion to make things better. It is only when you love that you can meet the insanity of the world with the sanity of your soul. Love helps you to see the precious value of every life no matter how limited or how brief. Love helps you to face a life threatening disease with a greater joy for living. Love helps you to see that true wealth comes from the soul and not the things you own. With love in your life you realize the senselessness of war and the pricelessness of peace. With love in your heart you see every famine and natural disaster as a call to help others even more. With love in your soul you feel God’s love everywhere as well.

     If you want to make sense of this life then just love. It won’t stop the questions, but it will help you live the answers. It won’t fully explain this life, but it will get you ready for the next.

Joe Mazzella

joecool@wirefire.com

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

Scattered In The Wind

Harley Sutton

            He who thinks he is a saint is by far the greatest sinner,
            And he who claims every race is surely not the winner.
            My friend asks unto me, would you not wish to grind
            To slice and dice, cut on your enemy until you find

That you are the superior one in both word and deed.
            Would this not be the pathway by which you succeed?
            Shall I with skill and deftness destroy my foe with word,
            Until my voice becomes the only message heard?

Should I not verbally cast him into the deep abyss?
            Would I not be the victor if I did such a deed as this?
            If friend or foe were backed by me onto the ledge,
            Whereupon they teeter precariously upon the edge,

And should they plunge headlong into the vast abyss,
            Would it not behoove me to offer up a Christian kiss
            Upon the forehead of my erstwhile enemy ere he fall?
            What if he were to say, it was not this, It was not this at all.

To find I had engaged in an egregious misunderstanding,
            And all my pettiness and persiflage notwithstanding,
            Had misread in word and deed that which I found at fault.
            Was I not by my sainted parents so much better taught?

In order to heap coals of fire upon another's head,
            Am I not supposed to offer him a kindness instead?
            Who am I to take umbrage at another's printed word?
            Does not the very notion of verbal fisticuffs sound absurd?

And Jesus would do this, and Jesus would do that.
            If He were me there'd be no discussion right off the bat.
            And what would Jesus do?  What would He do if He were you?
            And what would Jesus do?  We haven't the slightest clue.

Where is my right to append another's carefully written page?
            Do I possess all knowledge or simply pretend to be so sage
            As to reign supreme because my competitor left out a clause?
            If I claim I have something to protect, what is my cause?

Another writer says he knows, shall I besmirch the thought.
            Are the scraps of knowledge I've gleaned the better bought?
            Then a writer says he knows what made the fallen angel fall.
            When I argue, he may say, it wasn't this.  It wasn't this at all.

Do I fire both barrels, do I pepper him as with a gatling gun?
            I think him drunk with power, and he thinks me the one.
            Is there an all pervading answer to such a pointless position,
            Or is this the natural petty way of humanity's condition?

I did not make the sparrow fall, nor count him among the dead.
            I did not count each and every hair upon my neighbor's head.
            But I am fully capable each week of slowly turning my cheek
            To receive a reprimand of anger.  I am capable of being meek.

Pride goeth before a fall, we all walk tall, we all expand our chest.
            How much longer must I be this way, when do I get some rest,
            Lest I be handled roughly as I am thrown up against the wall
            To here the voices say, no it wasn't this, it never was this at all.......

The proud peacocks strut in the courtyards of the kings.
            To prevent their escape, someone has clipped their wings.
            They will send their cry across the courtyard long and loud.
            Is it being the finest bird or being heard that makes them proud?

I vow to clip no wings, I vow no more to wonder who is best.
            No hard fast rules.  The accolades of others score the test.
            It is one thing to refuse to bow my head, refuse to crawl,
            But it really was not that.  It never was that.  
            It was not that at all...........

Harley Sutton

lsutton@hot.rr.com

 
~**~**~

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