Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

November 19, 2007

Today’s Announcement

A Birthday wish goes out to Ashish Gorde: ashbg@rocketmail.com 

You need to vote for your favourite writer in the Halloween contest, we need to wrap this up folks!

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

~**~**~

 Get Ready.......Get Set.........GO!

Sharon Bryant

I was eighteen the year I got my first car, a  '64 Monza Corvair.

I traded it in one year to the day and bought a Maroon colored '65 Ford Galaxy with a 454 engine.

I remember the day I drove into the yard with it.  My dad popped the hood, stared at the contents under the hood and said, "This is too much car for you."

Dad drove a Bonneville (Pontiac) that year and he said I had a larger engine in my Ford than he did in his Pontiac.

He kept warning me about having a 'lead foot' and I better be careful.  Since he co-signed for me again, he told me if I got any speeding tickets, the car would be parked for 30 days.

(That already happened to me with the Corvair, so I was NOT going to do THAT again!)

I met this guy who drove a  Plymouth Barracuda.  He souped everything up in that car.  And he always bragged about how many drag races he won and how much money he pocketed from each race.

He lived 200 miles from where I lived, but I wanted to see him race.  One weekend I drove across the state of Michigan to Muskegon, out at the old airport, where the races were held.

Some guys wanted to look under my car hood and when they did, they told me they bet I could win a race.  The guy with the Barracuda laughed and said, "Yeah, right." 

I challenged him.

My first race, the winner won $50.  Back in the 60's, that was a lot of money.

We lined the cars up.  We started our engines, and I could feel the blood running through my veins.  I was ready.  Someone had a flag, all eyes were on the flag guy.  Suddenly I heard, "Get ready, get set........GO!"

I pushed the gas pedal and took off.  The Barracuda was right alongside me.  I had to beat him, plain and simple.  If my dad saw where the speedometer was on my car that day, I'd have been walking to work for 30 months, not 30 days!

I won that race.  And that was the beginning of my drag racing days.

For over two years, I picked up quite a bit of money.  The pot grew with the months.

I got to know the guy with the Barracuda pretty well, and his dad always teased him about how a city gal came to the country and beat him racing.

One day I was coming home from work on I-94 through Detroit.  I had my girlfriend with me as she worked with me.  I was tired and just wanted to get home.  It was late at night but there was still a lot of traffic on the freeway.  I pushed the pedal and flew home.

Dad came in 15 minutes behind me.  He asked me how long I'd been home.  I knew then something was coming, but wasn't sure what.  I told him I had just got home.  He saw two steaks frying in the fry pan so knew I'd been home for a 'few' minutes.

"Did you take the freeway tonight?" he asked.  "Yes, why?" I replied.

"Was there a lot of traffic on the freeway tonight?" he asked.

"About the usual," I said.

"You been speeding lately?"

I knew right then he must have seen me somewhere, but wasn't sure where.

"Maybe five miles over the limit," I replied.

"Well gal, when you were flying down I-94 I was one of the cars you tried to suck up your exhaust pipe."

"Give me your keys." 

"Dad, come on, I was just in a hurry and I was tired, don't take the car away from me."

Again he said, "Give me your car keys."

I handed him the keys.

I learned a lesson that night.  For the next month I had to ride with my father to and from work, since I worked for him.  I had to stop at every coffee place with him and get a lecture on driving like a maniac and what could happen to me.

After 30 days of lectures, I knew I better stop pushing the gas pedal down so far.

But never once did I ever tell my folks about my drag racing on the other side of the state nor the extra money I made from racing.

I won't lie and say I stopped drag racing.  I raced until I traded my Ford in for a Pontiac.  I just raced far enough away from home so dad never found out.

Every time I hear the words, "Get ready......get set.......GO!" I think of the good old days.

And dad's words still ring in my ears.

Sharon Bryant

1946@bellsouth.net

 ~**~**~
  

UNDIE MAN TO THE RESCUE!

Marsha Jordan

Last night my grandson, Cobi, was putting his pajamas on in the bathroom when suddenly, the door swung open and he jumped out. Wearing his underwear on his head, he announced, "It’s Undie Man to the rescue!"

Cobi loves super heroes. Last week when I bought him new shoes, his choice did not depend upon color, style, or comfort, but upon which super hero decorated the side of each shoe. When Cobi doesn’t want to do something, like taking medicine, I suggest that a super hero could do it, and suddenly his attitude changes. He flexes his muscles, sticks out his chest, and transforms into a fearless boy who can do anything.

I could take a lesson from him. I’m no hero and I’m not super compared to anybody, but I can live fearlessly by reminding myself of the super heroes of faith. Their stories in both the Old Testament and the New Testament of the Bible illustrate how God’s people have managed to live without fear in the past and how I can do it today.

The Bible admonishes us to "fear not" and to "be strong and courageous." These things are easy to talk about, but tougher to put into practice, especially when your life makes Job’s look like a vacation in paradise.

David was hated and hunted by the King and his armies, yet he trusted God; and God took care of him.

Paul was hated by leaders of the Jewish religion. He was captured, beaten, and imprisoned over and over, but he remembered that God was with him. That knowledge helped him get through it all. In a letter to the Corinthian church, Paul wrote, "This all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." (2 Corinthians 4:7)

When Jesus walked on the water toward the boat full of his apostles, Peter jumped out of the boat and headed toward him. (Matthew 14:28-30) He did well until he took his eyes off Jesus and looked around at the wind and the waves. Then he began to sink.

Peter knew Jesus had the power to help him walk on water, or he never would have left the boat; but he quickly forgot his goal when he saw how powerful the forces around him were. He needed a reminder to keep his eyes on Jesus. When he did that, he was fine and stayed above the waves.

We know God wants us to triumph in the midst of trouble. We know He’s willing to give us the power to do it. We just forget sometimes because we’re so busy looking at the problems that we take our eyes off the one who is stretching out His hand to help us.

When "Undie Man" emerges from my bathroom, I’m reminded to look to God for strength to live out the superhero life He’s called me to. He provides power for me to leap over insurmountable obstacles that Satan puts in my way. I may not get a cape or an insignia on my chest, but God gives me everything I need to be victorious.

Marsha Jordan

jordans@newnorth.net

www.hugsandhope.org/mj.htm

Author of "Hugs, Hope, and Peanut Butter"

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

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November Gloom

Cynthia Groopman

November gloom is displayed on frownful skies,

As clouds weep with tears in her eyes

Sadness of warm days passing away,

Brings gloom to a November Day.

Darkness descends at an early hour,

Gone is thee perfumed air and the fragrant flower.

Birds no longer sing,

For November gloom is like a bell that dolefully rings.

Cynthia Groopman

Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

 ~**~**~

November Snow

 Cynthia Groopman

November snow is like a baby's birth,

Arriving with great excitement and crowning our hearts with smiles and mirth.

A slight accumulation of dazzling white adorns the barren ground,

As the sun radiantly caresses with all its warmth,

Not a flake can be found.

November snow is such a surprise for all,

But it is unusual since snowy seasons begin in the winter not in the fall.

There is one important thought to know, on a light snowy November day,

That is winter is certainly on its way.

Cynthia Groopman

Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

Copyright ©2007 

 ~**~**~

Nocturnal Splendor
Cynthia Groopman

Slowly as the soft curtain of exquisite velvet quietly descends
casting shadows of nocturnal splendor,
The sleepy sun yawns, and begins to close its weary eyes.
A majestical rainbow of lovely colors escort the sun's
embedding glowing rays,
As it gently sinks into the West.
Brightly dancing stars twinkle joyfully,
As they dramatically welcome the smiling moon.
Enfolded in her magical lunar charms, little stars sprightly dash
to and fro with glee. Rustling the tiny leaves all about,
Refreshing breezes enthusiastically shout.
Messages from a far.
For slumber encircles all in her serene embrace of peace.
Basking in nocturnal splendor,
All await the God-given promise for renewal,
As lifes-tomorrow will brightly dawn.

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

~**~**~

Readers Feedback

~**~**~

Re Paula and I by Peggy Ann Doak.  What a fabulous story this is----------grander than a fairy tale.  Thank you Peggy!                    Louise

Carol, I enjoyed the piece Hard Dowd wrote on Robert Goulet.   About ten years ago, Goulet hosted the New Year arrival in San Antonio.  My son and daughter were
there standing with the crowd behind the velvet ropes.  For some reason unknown,
Mr Goulet walked across the street, shook hands with my son, spoke a few words
and wished him Happy New Year. He did not shake hands with others, but greeted
them and walked back across the street. Mistaken identity perhaps?  I don't know,
but it sure made my son's day!

Carol,
    That was a good piece of work there my friend.  You presented all sides and judged no one.  You reminded me of my
Grandmother's wake.  There were tears, solumn conversation,
stories about her life, and laughter and celebration at a life well
lived.
    I myself think that all of these things are right.  It is right to cry because you are sad. You are going to miss this person who will no longer be here with you.  It is right to rejoice because they are now in a place of never ending love, joy, and light.  Death like life is to complicated to put into a neat little box.
Wishing you every joy, Joe

Clara

Carol - I do believe in an afterlife. But, as for rejoicing, well. I have not actually rejoiced but I sure was happy  when my foster aunt ( who was 82) and lived with me died. She had fallen and the reason was a blocked artery. She was given surgery and then 3 weeks later she had complications. Her feet turned black (no circulation) and they said they were going to have to amputate. She begged them to just leave her alone and let her die because the thought of losing those feet was something she could not stand. A few days after that, after a lot of horrible pain, she went quietly in her sleep. Yes, I was happy for her. But I also believe in our loved ones watching over us. 

Thanks for your stories. I do like them.

Jene

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, Charlotte Hilliard, Maria Keller