STORYTIME TAPESTRY

March 23, 2005

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 Animal awareness series endorsed by Shiloh and Hank our mascots; all stories must receive their approval 

  Now on to the good stuff..........

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The Little Devil 

Sharon Bryant

I sat outside on my porch tonight listening to the frogs in our pond.  Big frogs, little frogs, and crickets make the pond sound like an amphibious band playing.

But there was a frog one time that I've never forgotten.  A brother also.

It was the spring of 1958.  I was twelve years old.  My brother was nine and a half.  We had lived in the city and dad had just purchased a "country home."  Daily, my brother and I walked in the woods, marveling at every creature we found.  We used to hide them in the old cold cellar where mom wouldn't find them.  Turtles, caterpillars, a lizard, bird eggs, and we even put the fried grasshoppers down there that the teacher had given us at school.

We lived in a two-story farmhouse.  My brother's bedroom and mine were separated by  a plaster wall.  I remember at night, we'd send our SOS signals back and forth, rapping on the wall, using the code we had made up.

On this particular night, I had been typing on the old typewriter my folks had given me.  I loved plucking at the keys making words come to life on a piece of paper.  I was typing and thinking about getting ready for bed.

The "code" began from my brother's room.  For some reason, I couldn't figure out what he was saying, so I snuck out in the hall, tapped on his door, opened it, stuck my head in and said, "What are you trying to say?"  He replied, "I just wondered if you were in bed yet."  I told him I was headed there in a few minutes.

The only light in my room was a light bulb in the center of the ceiling.  It had a long string on it, and every night, I would pull that string, shut the light off, and jump into bed.  I used to love to jump into bed and slide my hands under my pillows.  I loved the coolness of the sheets.  I did that this particular night.

And then I screamed.  I screamed as loud as a kid can.  My parents came flying up the stairs, my brother hopped out of his bed and ran to my room.  I was in the middle of my bed with a giant bullfrog sitting on my back.

I know the neighbors could hear me half a block away.  And I know the neighbor's could hear my dad and mom and brother laughing as I kicked and screamed, "Get it off of me!"

Dad reached out and grabbed that big green ugly thing and took it outside.  When I made eye contact with my brother....I knew.....I knew he'd put that frog under my pillow and I was going to get even with him.

I snuck a pair at a time, out of his dresser drawer.......his underwear.  I stitched the crotch up in every single pair.  And I laid back on my bed and laughed my head off when I heard him in the bathroom yelling for my mom, telling her something was wrong with his "undies."

My brother was a little devil in disguise.  He was always playing pranks on me, but the night he put the snake in my room, was the night I would have choked him to death had my parents not saved his life.

I lost that brother 10 years ago and he stayed a prankster right up until his death in 1995.

I bet God's got his hands full with him!

Sharon Bryant

1946 @bellsouth.com

About Me:

I am Sharon Bryant, 59 years old and reside in Alabama.

I lost my child in 1977 when he was five and I write
articles on bereavement often.

I am a chocolate/candy maker and also a wood crafter and knitter.

I am married to a wonderful man, and have two remaining children, a daughter 25,
Amy, and a second son, Randy, age 22.

My main goal in life is to help those who
have lost a child. My website is: www.angelsremembered.tk

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 Today's Queue Stories

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My New Friend George

Susan Roberts

have a new friend. His name is George. He had a broken neck that has left him unable to take care of himself. He can move his arms and head, but his hands don't work, and he is bedridden.

But my new friend George has a smile that will melt ice in a frosted glass. He has such a wonderful attitude. I don't know that I would be as cheerful as this man is, had this accident happened to me.

George likes to be out on the screened porch at the nursing home he lives in. He enjoys talking to the other people that come out there to smoke.

George has a wonderful friend named Mike,  that he depends on to help him out.

Mike used to be my neighbor before he had to go to the nursing home. Mike has MS and diabetes. Mike is a great person too.

Mike and George just got to move into the same room. They are best friends, and now room-mates. They love to talk and joke together.

They both have made the best of what has happened to them, I just hope and pray that I will have the same outlook on life that these two have. I think they are both my heros.

Susan Roberts

twofamily2 @earthlink.net

About Me:

I am now married to my second husband.
We live on five acres outside of a little
town in the Florida Panhandle. I take care
of my 92-year-old mother in law. I have
two living children, two stepchildren and
seven beautiful grandchildren. I am an
author of a recently published book
GOD and The Hillbilly, published thru
publishamerica.com, about a
young woman I met online who was in a
very abusive marriage with two
little children. It is based on her life
and what happened when she
reached out for help and got out of the
situation. She was a blessing to know. I
have been blessed so much in my life with
wonderful family, friends and online
friends. If you go to
publishamerica.com and click on "search,"
that will take you to the
book site. If you click on the reviews,
you will find that I have
two pages of reviews, all giving the book
five stars. There is a
review from the Victim Advocate for the
Wakulla County Sheriff Dept.
as well.

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He Was My Best Friend
Kathleen Ann Shelton

Although not considered a manly word, beautiful, is the only word
that I can think of to aptly describe him. It wasn't his physical
appearance, as age had yielded its unmistakable mark upon him and,
time itself, had drawn and stamped its map across his face, with
valleys and crevices deeply engraved.  Yet, his eyes sparkled more
brilliantly than any gem, danced to an upbeat and lively song of their
own, and had the magical ability to enchant even the most miserable
and cynical.  His smile had an exquisite expression that crookedly
spread widely from one prominent, lopsided ear to the other, exposing
broken and missing teeth, yet, bedazzling, luminous and contagious.
Personally, I always believed that his inner spirit was so strong, so
full of joyous life, that it could not be contained within, bursting
through with its own sheer will and celebration.

His large, oversized, rough, calloused hands somehow possessed a
gentle, delicate, almost whispering a feather like touch.  When
touched by his hands, one was immediately flooded with a sensation of
a soothing, healing warmth flooding through their entire being.  His
touch seemed to renew and rejuvenate the soul of any one fortunate to
receive it.  Yet, soft as his touch was, it was contrary and
two-folded, as it also conveyed an unmistakable, untouchable and
powerful silent strength.

Although age had slowed his steps to a slow and halting gait, it
could not reclaim the purposefulness and fortitude of his walk.
Somehow, his walk would play tricks with ones eyes and mind, giving an
illusion of a spring, a little bounce to his lumbering steps.
Uneducated according to the worlds standards, he emitted
unmistakable, vast, untouchable wisdom and knowledge.  He was a
living, walking textbook himself, having lived through the experiences
and changes of time that one could only glimpse in the history books.
When he spoke of the past, his words painted vivid pictures, images
and details into ones mind, creating a sense of actually having been
there and experiencing it first hand.  The rest, he deemed as good old
common sense and guidance from the Holy Bible.  "Anything you need to
know is answered right there in that Book-it has the solution to
everything" he would adamantly and confidently state. "Read that Book,
the letters from Yahweh, Our God Himself, study it and apply its
teachings to your life, it will never misguide you, steer you wrong or
get you lost".

Although not rich materialistically, he was unarguably the wealthiest
person that I have ever had the privilege and pleasure to know.  His
wealth was in his application to life, and the insights he cultured in
me concerning life were definitely, unmistakably and utterly the most
profound, lasting and valuable gift that any person could ever
receive.

He relished life as priceless, a gift from Yah that is to be respected and revered, not mocked, laughed at or sneered at.  He showed me how one can learn and benefit from conversing and listening to the wisdom endowed to the aged and elderly.  He revealed how meekness, gentleness and uncompromising love and respect for all of Yahwehs creations and creatures, large or small, inanimate or animate, could maintain harmony and prevail over any convolution and discord.

He educated me on anger and self-control, how I was responsible for my
own actions and reactions, and that no one could make me angry unless
I allowed them to, that it was I who had the power over my emotions.

He gave me the understanding of how anger and bitterness only hurt me,
not the other person, for that person was still going about their way
and life happily, while I suffered the consequences of my anger and
bitterness, mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually.  He
encouraged me to apologize, even if I felt that I was justified or in
the right, declaring that it was not a sign of weakness, but of an
inner quality and strength that would always prevail with its own
healing power.

He impressed upon me the importance of not placing
value or undo importance upon material things or possessions, as they
could always be destroyed or lost, but rather first upon Yahweh, then
other people and relationships. He drilled into me that although it
was only natural to desire belongings, that the key to a happy and
successful life was not to dwell on your lacks and what you didn't
have, but to be thankful for and appreciate what you did have.  He
reflected that the most important thing one left behind when they
perished from this earth was not what one possessed materially, but
rather, their actions, deeds and what a person did in regards to
others and the impact that one left upon the lives of others.  He
educated me on the meaning of giving from the heart unselfishly, to
share what I had with those who were in need.

Once I wanted to buy anew bicycle, not that anything was wrong with the one that I already had, but this one was newer, more fashionable.

At the same time, I knew of a child who was in dire need of new shoes that his struggling
parents could not afford to provide.  I came up with what I though an
ideal solution, to give my old bike to the kid.  However, he would not
allow me to deceive myself.  "What does your conscience say?  What
does that little boy need the worst, what would he benefit from the
most, new shoes or a bike?" he questioned me.  Ultimately, the kid not
only ended up with new shoes, but also with an entire, much needed,
new wardrobe.  Compliments of an unsigned gift certificate from a
local clothing store delivered through the mail with no return
address.  My old bike served me well for many more years, and
eventually I did get a new bike, and yes, ended up still giving my old
bike to that other kid.  However, I cannot say I gave it to him per
say, but, that the boy actually worked for it and earned it.  Among
his teachings to me, he had stressed the importance of allowing others
to maintain their dignity and pride and not to have to feel a sense of
debt or obligation.  So, I had the kid help me mow and rake yards for
a day for payment of the bike.  By that time, the boy was old enough
and had the initiative and incentive to use the bike to get a paper
route and start earning a little extra money for himself and his
family.  He taught me that there is a difference between a helping
hand, a hand-out and a hand up, and to never allow myself to become a
crutch to someone, but rather to encourage and help one stand upon
their own two feet.  He illustrated to me the true meaning of
forgiveness and how it works.  "Take an example from Yahweh and
Yahshua-do you think we merit forgiveness, do you honestly believe
that is was because mankind was so deserving that Yahshua died,
beaten, naked and scorned, nailed to a tree just so that we could have
ever lasting life and not pay the penalty for our sins?  Do you think
that we earn forgiveness or is it given through unconditional love and
grace?  Do you think that once they have forgiven you that they will
later on remind you of what mistake you have made or do you think that
the deed is forgotten and the slate erased clean? Do you presume Our
Father sets restrictions to how many times we are forgiven?" he asked.
 He enunciated the significance of praise. "You get farther through
praise than you do with grumbling, moaning and whining, and that
applies in regards to Our Holy Father as well as other people.  If you
spend more time and effort in criticizing and complaining about a
person, relationship or situation than you do praising, eventually,
you will cause that person or situation to react negatively, and too,
you also begin to lose sight of the positive and good qualities and
start seeing nothing but the bad", he reasoned.  He underlined my
vital role in any circumstance and situation.  "Never just make the
best of any situation or circumstance, but instead, do your best.  If
you just make the best of anything, you simply drift and coast along
with no desirable or satisfactory results.  On the other hand, when
you do your best, you make things change, even if it is just your own
attitude, you make things happen and in the end, you feel good about
your efforts and the outcome" he advocated.  He deeply implanted in me
the value and utmost importance of reading the Bible and spending time
in meditation of Yahs Word and in prayer. "You develop lasting
relationships with others by getting to know them, understanding them,
spending time with them and maintaining the relationship.  If you
abuse and or neglect that relationship, it will suffer and
deteriorate. The same concept hold true with Our God" he intensely
accentuated innumerable times.

He taught me to love unconditionally, that love knows no boundaries,
including background, social standing, gender, race or age.
Basically, pure, unadulterated love has no barriers or fences or set
conditions: it is given freely from the heart and soul.
Despite the vast differences in our background and age, I loved him
and he was my best friend.

Kathleen Ann Shelton
kathleenannshelton@yahoo.com

About Me:

There is not really much to tell about myself. I am a 49 year old mother of 3 and grandmother of 11. I am single, however, take care of my first ex husband. (Have story on that if you are interested) I work as a seamstress.  I consider my writing as a gift from Yahweh and His Holy Spirit that has been given to me to share.

The Promise of the Rainbow
Sharlette Hunt

On bended knee, I crossed the sea
Of heartache and despair.
Through tear filled eyes, I saw the skies,
It seemed no one was there.

For many years, I cried such tears,
That I could hardly see.
Then one gloomy day, it came to me,
And solved the mystery.

Now, I have a choice, I must rejoice,
This thing that did appear!
So still, it seemed, it was a dream,
A rainbow, bright and clear!

I know it now, I made a vow,
To change my life that day,
The promise of the rainbow,
Taught me a better way!

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Sharlette863 @aol.com


About Me:

I was born in Alabama, the middle of
seven children. At about age four we moved
to Central Florida and I have lived here
most of my life. I am a Viet Nam Era
Veteran. I have always enjoyed writing
and as I get older it seems to come more
naturally to me. I believe
everyone has many stories inside them and
some are blessed to be able to share them.
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 Writers Feedback 

This was good.  Thanks for sending it.  I just read the story of Terry Schiavo on Story Time.  I can't understand how that they can see this as being the right thing to do by starving this woman to death. 

Why can't they be allowed to give her some medication and she could peacefully go to sleep.  Wouldn't that be the more ( humane) thing to do?

Dear Carol,

I enjoyed you and your sharing before the classes   but I also have enjoyed your different styles of writing.  Keep on telling those experiences and stories and sharing them with us fans of yours. As for the changeover I like it much better.  It is worth all you have gone through making the change.   Hugs Leona

Michael's story about the fidelity of birds was so touching and so true. I agree with him completely. I think those tiny birds with their tiny brains seem to have more sense than many of us when it comes to our faithfulness to our life partners. Thank you, Michael, for reminding us all of the lessons we can learn from one of God's tiniest creations.

Nanci Stroupe

The stories appearing today (March 22) are quite inspiring.

Robert White