STORYTIME TAPESTRY

April 3, 2005

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Today we have a brand new writer to introduce.  Dina Damato ??“ writer # 190, for Storytime Tapestry.  Dina is really precious.  I urge you all to get to know her.  She is so excited to be writing for Storytime Tapestry.  Dina continuously aspires to grow as a writer and appreciates any feedback she can get from the Storytime Gang.

We have a special surprise today, Victor Buhagiar, our poet laureate, has returned with some wonderful poetry. 

Now on to the good stuff..........

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

 Tears   

by Vance Agee

We all get teary-eyed once in a while, either about something very personal or about a sad event on the news -- perhaps more frequent since ???9/11???. The reasons are endless, and this is not meant to be an endless story.

For perspective only -- please recall that some politicians, not just the one in CA, by the way -- have proposed the elimination or reduction of animal shelters for lost or stray pets, as a way to save money. I will write only that I wish for them that they could fully understand the importance of recovering a pet and the importance of animal friends in God??™s universe. They must have forgotten Coleridge??™s ???Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner??? that ???He made and loveth all....??? Or they need to read it.

My daughter lives in  Brooklyn Heights, a beautiful area, and works at a famous fashion, design and retail firm in the greatest city of the world (NYC). She visits us as often as possible in our Buffalo, NY area.

All visits come to an end.

Even visits home.

Before boarding her flight back to NYC, she cries -- a very normal reaction. She is going back to the city of eight million away from friends and family.

But she has a little friend, a Yorkie, whom she takes almost everywhere with her. A smart and caring little canine. The measure of God??™s love is not in centimeters.

At the Buffalo-Niagara Airport, her Yorkie licks her tears away, and we laugh.

She always does.

Who else could take away our tears?
 

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Today's Queue Stories
~**~**~**~ 

GOLDEN MEMORY

BY GEORGEWATERS OJEIGBE  

Lagos, Nigeria

gojiegbe @jhplc.com

I have ever since in my childhood falling in love with singing and all those that associates selves with singing.

When I was just a little boy I used to cherish the choir a lot but only to be turned down by these adult singers whenever I tried joining the group.  You know those adults??™ words ???you are too young, come back when you clock 18 years??™. 

After church serviced I would snick to the drum sets or the keyboard stand and hit any of the drums or strike an unlucky key on the keyboard with fearful mind anyway.  Whatever sound that came out usually made me fulfilled for that day despite the fact that I would be bullied by any of these grown ups. 

In those days, when I used to be dragged into the vehicle to Christ Cathedral Church, here in Lagos while on holidays, I was much moved when it??™s Mrs. Smith??™s turn to be on the grand piano, although retired now.  She has the most wonderful skills of rolling those keys as one just having a free time on the piano.  She blessed my soul with her skills. 

In those days, we the children would secretly escape from the Sunday school to the main church but ended up being dragged back by MR. ???MAN??™ or MRS. ???WOMAN??™??¦ with the word ???this place is not for you, go to the children??™s section???.  This time, the popular Tunde Oladokun of Christian Broadcasting Service (CBS) was then a member of this church with his parents then in Nigeria.

Finally, when I reached the age 18, I left that era of ???you are too small to be in the choir??™.

When I settled down in Lagos, I started to attend Christ Chapel International Churches (aka Voice of Faith Ministry), a new generational church, rather, a Pentecostal Church. 

Although, it wasn??™t easy for me to have left the orthodox church, you know what I mean; especially when you have been used to a particular style of faith; I was used to those organ instruments??™ arrangements.  I hope you understand, like those ROCK OF AGES songs where you would always need to adjust your collar and stand straight with your head high up putting up that thou shall not be disturbed attitude.  You know you have to look highly respected in your straight suits.  Dancing to a music tone was dangerous and forbidden then but crying or putting on moaning attitude as one who had just lost a close relative was greatly a sign of godliness then.

Each time I was asked to get prepared for service, each time I used to condemn as I would think that going to these worldly churches looked like hell because I just couldn??™t see any reason why one should go to a church known to be the house of the lord and start to dance to those worldly like songs.  Then when it??™s dancing time, I often see someone running from one end of the church to the other end.  Sometimes, people would be jumping and shouting always with ???uh, uh, uh!!!???  In my mind I would say ah, this church is the devil??™s camp for tugs.  With time I started to understand why King David of Old danced until his robe fell off his back.  I also came to appreciate fashion of praise and worship later on.

My first time to see the choir members of Christ Chapel International Churches come on pulpit to do their wonderful singings, my impression was that these singers were not Nigerians.  They may have come from oversea countries because of the way they sing and behave.  Then I started to dream the day I would become part of them.

One of the choristers that caught my attention was Bro. George Jacob (now late).  He had such wonderful voice which I was always proud of and being that we share the same name ???GEORGE??™. 

The first time I heard him sang the song ???HE IS JEHOVAH??™, I was moved.  I did felt the hairs on my skin rising.  His voice sounded much like the originally artist, if not better.  Another song he usually sang was ???SURELY THE PRESENCE OF THE LORD IS IN THIS PLACE??™, waoh, when he does it was always way out of this world with his baritone, velvet soronous voice.   Coupled with other ladies who also have their distinct voices the group was world class. 

Ever since I took interest on this Christ Chapel music group, I started to plan on how to join the group. 

I often went to their meetings hoping to be auditioned but I always ended up going back home not auditioned due to one or the other reason well-known to them.

The group was first class when it newly started.  They had what it takes to be on the high scale.  This was as a result of the senior pastor??™s keen interest in music.  He propelled the growth of the group.  He often took good times to be with the group; sometimes to late at nights, through rehearsals and encouragements.  Finally, we always ended up being his favourite; the apple of his eyes, as we never went home empty handed.  Many times, those who could not go home after the late rehearsals with the senior pastor often remained till the following day in the church office restroom. 

At a time, I went to meet Bro. George Jacob for a piece of advice from him towards my joining the music group.

When he learnt of my name he took much interest in me.  He advised me when to see the coordinators and suggested an evening which was towards a certain time they normally welcome new intakes.  I was told the secret by him that I shouldn??™t just come and sit waiting for them to call on me otherwise I wouldn??™t be noticed.

Again, I tried but was asked to join another group for the main time.  I had to join the technical crew where I was assisting in setting up the instruments.  With this I felt closer to them because I was always fixing their microphones and keyboards for them.  The music group and the technical crew worked hand in hand which means that we were often together.  To me it was like one given the task to be delivering mails to a house where your eyes have caught the sight of a beautiful date.  You know it??™s a favour done to you in this way, so I felt being in the technical crew for those numbers of weeks I functioned there.

Finally one evening as earlier advised by Bro. George, I went to see the music director who gave me a specific day to come for auditioning.  The day of my auditioning, I was quickly selected despite the fact that I did not do well; may be because of the potential gift they saw in me and that could have been my God gifted voice (I have written on this before).

When I joined the group, there were other members like Deji Durojaiye, Natha Ediale, David Mba, Gladys Ugboka (now in Vancouver, Canada), Pat Erijoh, Taiwo (Now Mrs. Taiwo Inyang), Kehinde (Now Mrs. Osoba), Lizy Akpabio, Olufunmi (now a star and once interviewed in Christian Broadcasting Service ??“ Turning Point), Rotimi Owonaike, Toyin Moore.  These few ones that I can still remember are unforgettable to me.  There are many others like them somewhere in my mind.

My first day in the group was like a vision fulfilled.  A dream came true.  I was overwhelmed as I saw myself in the midst of great and world class singers.

Gradually I started rolling into Bro. George Jacob??™s songs as I dreamt of days that I would duet songs with him.  Whenever he gets on the pulpit to sing I was always expectant.  When it seem like the song I am rehearsing on was not well presented and criticized by members he was always the only one to say ???George give it another trial???.  When a song pitch seemed too high for m, he would always advice that I try to start with a particular artist song??™s and maybe later I would be able to flow on the higher ones.

Yes, Bro. George was an encourager who hardly could criticize anybody.  He enjoyed the gentle lifestyle so were with his songs.  Later in life, he left the choir to pursue a pastoral calling. 

Before his death he would call me and say ???George, Jesus is coming soon, there is no much time to waste in life that is why I have decided to pursue a pastoral calling???.  Often he kept telling me same thing until one New Year??™s Eve; sometime in 1995, I thought that I saw in dream someone kicked an object on the floor and fell on the ground.  When I got up, I thought over it but I never new what it meant not until three days later when I learnt that my namesake had possibly died exactly that same night I had the dream.  It was said that he lived alone in his place of aboard.  It was after three days when his neighbours didn??™t see him on New Year and the following day that they became more concerned about his sudden disappearance with any left notice.  Someone smelt the odour that came out of his apartment and alerted the others before they forced his entrance door opened.  There he was on the floor laying dead.  He died at the age of 33 going to 34 just some few days from when he died.

Up till now, it still looked like yesterday.  His words still rings in my mind.  I know he is in a blissful place now.  The day of his testimonial night, the church auditorium was filled up and people talked on how his life had affected theirs, it was so beautiful but there was nothing one could do other than give God the glory despite his short stay on earth.

THE END

Georgewaters Ojeigbe

gojiegbe @jhplc.com

BIO-DATA

I was born on 21^st April, 1970.  I live in Lagos, Nigeria the most populous city in Africa. I sing in a Church music group where I fellowship.  I love sports.  I love admiring the heavens and other wonderful works borne from Jehovah??™s hands.  I discovered the power of writing stories, encouraged by Carol.  Thanks for her existence!  I am pet lover minus snakes; I so much hate this creature called snake but others I prefer.  I like to do lots of home works like creating my art works, gardening, making some home furniture, fitting electrical appliances etc.

~**~**~

Warning this submission may not be suitable for all readers, it may contain some graphic scenes or
course language.  Readers are to take that into consideration and decide accordingly:

Pyre

Charith Pelpola

The deep, throbbing bass of the music reverberated through the walls, as he positioned himself high in the black airy corners of the ceiling. Cigarette smoke, illuminated by a constant strobing rainbow of colours, hung here in a strange cloud. In this claustrophobia he was shrouded; observing the comings and goings of human courtship with quiet detachment.

His fingers splayed widely against the corners of the wall, and he dug his feet into the sides of the recess, anchoring himself in spite of the slow condensation that coated the blackness in a steady slick.

Through the haze, beneath the mists, he focussed his vision on the young things that flitted across the floor. Their laughs and squeals were lost even to his keen senses; the music was all pervasive, its hypnotic beats lulling the colder instincts that kept him guarded and wary. It took a while for him to mentally dull the music out from the inner sanctums of his mind.

Even from this height, their butterfly colours; so bright and incandescent, reflected against the cobalt, beetle glaze of his eyes. Their liquid depths betrayed not a single thought or shred of emotion Black pearls studying the scene, surveying the hunting grounds, calculating a strategy.

He kept his body, his skin black velvet, rigid and unmoving, a statue that caricatured the shape of man. He cocked his head, insect-like, from time to time, so that his thick black mane hung and draped about him with a life of its own. His long tapering ears twitched as he detected one delicate sound. It was far softer than the music, or the laughter, and even the clink of glass against glass. It was a voice that struck a chord somewhere deep inside him, even though it was fainter than the rustle of the ants that were marching resolutely on the far wall. It was the voice of life. A heartbeat of one so young and pure. She was down there in the flood of noise. His night was about to begin.

The change in his physical state was swift. He unlocked his arms and legs from their anchoring grips and poised himself to move. Contracting his limbs like a living spring, he leapt across the vast nothingness of the warehouse ceiling, a shadow among shadows. Although his lean body blotted out the strobe lights on the dance floor for a few moments, the intoxicated young things down below were oblivious; light and shade were a natural part of the landscape here.

He alighted softly on the far wall, thirty feet away. His retracted claws splintered the old plaster as he landed, and tiny dust motes descended as he anchored himself in. The sound was louder from here. He moved quietly and with purpose along the lower contours of the wall, still in the shadows. But it was brighter here, below the mists, and he was aware of the greys that had replaced the darkness. Like ink stains in water, his skin changed colour, taking on the same hue as the cheap paint that clothed the half-lit walls. Only the shells of his eyes remained black and all-seeing.

The beating heart was near, rapid and erratic; conducted by the bloodstream of an uncertain soul. He raised himself away from the wall and sniffed the acrid air, his heightened senses detecting the fragrance of a summer rose. She didn??™t belong here, and her disconnection to this place made it all the more easier for him to find her.

With a measured burst of speed, he scurried to the corner of the wall, and there, alone at a deserted bar, he found her. Her pale form, in a floral dress reflected in his eyes and he stayed up here for a while, observing the way she crossed her arms and legs, and seemed to keenly study the floor when males of various shapes and forms came towards her. She was lost, it was obvious, and the rest of her group had already abandoned her, having paired off and disappeared in the crowds. In acceptance of what he was about to do, he felt something akin to sympathy for her. But how her life would change after this night. He instinctively smiled at the thought, revealing two pairs of wickedly curved canines that decorated his jaws. They disappeared just as abruptly as the smile vanished and he focussed again on the scene.

He checked the area below him for signs of movement. She was staring sullenly into her drink. His senses were suddenly on fire. The moment had come. He disengaged his claws, and dropped like a spider from the wall.

-

She sighed deeply and stared into the amber remains of her drink. She swirled it idly and dreamed of her bed and the comforting security of her room. She didn??™t belong here and her good-for-nothing friends had shown as much concern for her wellbeing as they usually did. Tonight would be another night of avoiding ugly, sleazy guys, a real waste of her time.

But then someone caught her eye. A man at the far end of the bar. She hadn??™t noticed him before, but it now seemed as if he had been standing there for a long time. He was dressed in full black, and a dark coat clothed his frame. Long tousled hair fell about his shoulders, and it glowed with an almost metallic sheen. His angular face was pale, almost feminine in its grace, but his eyes were set with pupils so black, it seemed unnatural. Contacts, she figured. But whatever it was, there was something magnetic about him. And his smile was beautiful.

She couldn??™t believe it, but that smile was for her and he raised a glass in her direction. She found herself returning his gesture and before she knew it, he was at her side. His hand lay to rest on her shoulder and he said something to her. His voice was deep and reassuring, although the drone of the music prevented her from understanding his words. But then he gestured with a nod of his head, towards the exit. He smiled again, and she knew she must follow. Yes, a quieter place would be nice.

He took her gently by the hand and led her out of the belly of the nightclub and towards the exit. He towered above her and her head nestled easily against his chest as they walked. She breathed in his scent, a strange smell that reminded her of woodlands in winter and her mother??™s herb garden. She felt suddenly detached from her surroundings in the grip of this beautiful stranger; it was an exhilarating, heart-racing feeling.

Suddenly they were in the chill night air, and she clung to him for warmth. She looked up inquisitively into his black eyes as they walked down the deserted alleyway and he smiled down at her.

???Where do we go now????

???My dear, the night has just begun.???

?© Charith Pelpola, 2004

Charith @starwaves.tv

As for me: I'm a wildlife documentary maker, have been in the business for almost 10 years and have spent most of my life in the field of environmental conservation. After qualifying in environmental science in '96, I moved out of the UK where I was brought up, and proceeded to lead a nomadic existence throughout South and South East Asia, and have now taken root in the island-state of Singapore. My factual and scientific writings have appeared in several publications, from wildlife periodicals to in-flight magazines, to coffee-table photography books. My fictional writing has remained entirely personal - until very recently! 

I am of Anglo-Germanic Sri Lankan heritage, 32 years old, husband to Kristen and parent to four cats and two dogs.

Cheers,

Charith.

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Poetry Section

~**~**~

On The Sleeve

By WriterDinks (Dina Damato.)

She walks the same streets as the hookers and the pushers,
such heartache etched in vacant eyes, everyone looking
as though they are longing for something, maybe someone.

She walks most times with her head held down, but
no not in shame, in hopes to be left alone by most
people driving by, looking for what she is not offering,
and leafless trees let light through the branches, but
it is not the light of sunshine, the clouds push that away.

Constantly averting her eyes to all her surroundings,
hands in pocket, one gripping her knife ready to use,
but in hopes it never has to leave her pocket or hand.
As she walks she thinks, looking up from time to time,
and thinks of the many yesterdays gone by, and
anniversaries of sorts that seem to come and go in blurs.

Some people have passed away, died, others
the others left her behind or she turned away from them,
either way, many gone forever, and she thinks about
how long forever is, and like anyone, she don't know.

Seasons change, sometimes many in a day, and
while others come to serve a purpose or a reason,
a lot leave without ever saying good bye ...

So many changes, bringing her to where she is, and
that is just it, where is "where she is?"
Loss of self dependence maybe realized, or
for the first time she knows independence, because
she has met alone and his friend lonely.

Confuses herself with a million thoughts,
letting fear(s) grip her soul, after all these years
she finds she just might be standing on her feet
facing what she does not want to accept, and yet
she doesn't give up hope ... at least hope is alive...
... most moments in a day.

Thinking about the prayers answered and the others
only prayed for sake of instant gratification, pointing
out her desperation, selfish desires and,
wishing for what can never be, but
was, and trying to not deny reality as it slaps
her in the face with so much wonderment of yesterday,
today, tomorrow, last year, next year, right this moment.

And whatever it was that made her tick in days past,
no longer felt the same, whatever it was, was not
there anymore, and into the void she began to swim again.
She had it all, and gave it away, so little of it was ever
tangible, that's why all it mattered more, and that her
heart broke, and breaks a little more with each reminder
that she is not lost in herself, but gasping for air in another.

Dina Damato

DinaIDamato @aol.com

 **~**~

A Dark Angel?

 Victor Buhagiar

Am I a dark angel?

With a broken wing?

Am I happy with my pain?

Shall I kneel down?

And shall I beg?

A feeling persists,

I got what I deserved,

For did I not, in my infinite wisdom,

Choose you, of all I admired?

My heart is now a motion sickness

My mind a topsy-turvy chaos.

I feel you near me always,

A fluttering of sighs and desires,

Emotions hard to control.

Yet as we age so gracefully

I detect some softening of force

Just like a healing process,

Just like a mature rose.

You leave your ivory tower,

The frenzy of youth behind us,

I'll mellow in your warmth.

The future beckons, sweetheart

For now I live in hope.

 **~**~

Coquette

 Victor Buhagiar

Romantic overtures

like gaudy butterflies 

that kiss all blooms 

that come their way,

teasing me, haunting me,

flirting with me

and playing havoc 

with my love.

Are you really harmless?

Is it fatal poison I drink?

I ask for hero worship

I get senseless fiddle-fuddle.

I ask for sensuous emotions,

I get teasing quips

and seamy punch lines

that make me feel worthless,

shabby and trivial.

I yearn for meaning

I get trivia, empty promises,

like husks of unfertilized corn,

like a rundown house

abandoned even by ghastly ghosts,

or like a hot futile desert 

filled only with smoldering sand,

empty even of a hopeful mirage.

Should I be thankful 

that you bestow your love on none,

that you just love to trifle

with every man's heart?

Alas I love you too much.

 Victor Buhagiar
kearrmell@yahoo.com


About Me:

My name is Victor Buhagiar. I live on a small island in the

Middle of the Mediterranean, called Malta. I was born in a

tiny suburb called Floriana where I attended primary school.

From there I progressed to higher studies until I
became a teacher after completing a course at St. Michael

Training College.
For some strange reason I got fed up with my job, went to

Malta University where I graduated as Bachelor of Arts

(specializing in English Literature, Maltese and Economics).

Then I joined the Civil Service (which many consider to
be neither civil nor a service) and ended up as a Director

Of Corporate Services in the Ministry of Agriculture and

Fisheries. Thank God I got rid of all that in 2001 when

I retired.

I am married to Liliane and have one daughter Sandra. I have

Many hobbies but I prefer indoor plants, writing short stories,

cooking and browsing the internet.
I have written a lot of short stories in Maltese and English,

had five novellas published in Maltese and three stories were read

on the BBC World Service, one of which was published in the

Commonwealth magazine. I am now more interested in poetry and

had some published in WynterBlue Thunder, a Canadian magazine.

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Writers Feedback

Carol,
    (You are Happy) I think that we all look back on the twists and turns our choices
brought to our lives and sometimes wish we had taken a different road.  We
just have to keep reminding ourselves that life is lived in the present and
nothing we do can change the past.
Thank you so much for running my story in today??™s Storytime.
I know how crowded the site must be with eager writers wanting to share.
Wishing you every joy, Joe

Hi Carol---Thanks for sharing the wonderful story "Little Ophan Annie"
by Sandra Woodward. I am proud to be able to call her sister...but even
better, I consider her my best friend!! Kay Seefeldt

Carol, (You Are Happy)

That was simply beautiful my friend. It was so full of truth and wisdom too. Keep up the wonderful work. Wishing you every joy,

Joe

Love this story Carol...(You Are Happy) How great to admit you error and to say you are sorry...
that takes a big person.

God Bless,

Barbara

Thank you so much. (You Are Happy) - I really enjoyed this article, as I'm in the process of writing a book, "From Crying In My Beer To Laughing With Jesus".

Love and prayers,

Vantrice Burkes

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Announcements

Forty Years Ago.. Reunion


    Celebrating America??™s Military <http://heartswithsoul.com/Military.htm>

Jerry Turner

egtwarrior25@sbcglobal.net <mailto:egtwarrior25@sbcglobal.net>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forty years ago this year (1965) was the first time that an Assault
Helicopter Company of the 101st Airborne was committed to combat. It was
the first time since WWII that any unit from the 101st had been
committed to combat.

It was done in the form of Company A, 101st Aviation Battalion, 101st
Airborne Division which very quickly became know as the "Warriors and
Thunderbirds".

We are planning a 40th reunion (many of us may not be around for the

50th) in Houston, April 22-24, 2005. As soon as a place is secured you
will be informed. It will be somewhere in the vicinity of Hobby Airport,
just south of the city which is most accessible by air and convenient by
land.

Our aim is to contact as many as possible of those that served at Soc
Trang (April 65 - Sep 66) as a Warrior or T-bird and all of our
supporting troops. We solicit your help in contacting as many you can
and inform them and or provide us with the e-mails, addresses or phone
numbers of those that we may not have contact.

Our goal is to have at least 50 that served during that period in
attendance. This can be accomplished if we will all get behind this and
contact our contacts.

Our point of contact will be:

Ken Harmon kharmon3@houston.rr.com H 281-343-7788 O 281-561-7111 C
713-816-4422

Ron Crotty hcrot1ps@ont.com Ed O'Quinn edoquinn77@charter.net

Jerry Turner egtwarrior25@sbcglobal.net AGENDA; Our Hospitality Room
will be open continuously for BS and other sessions From Friday through
Sunday.


  Itinerary

1. Friday 04/22/05; Welcome Meet & Greet, Cash Bar, hors d'voeuvres 1900
til 2200

2. Saturday 04/23/05; Reunion Dinner 1830 til 2000, $45.00 per person
(est.).

3. Sunday 04/24/06; Departure Brunch (Hail & Farewell) 0930 til 1130.

NOTE: I am trying to arrange a tour of The Johnson Space Center on
Saturday 04/23/05, time TBD, will confirm as soon as possible (probably
3 hours in length).

Please let me know what you think about this and any suggestions or
ideas that you may have will be welcome, thanks.

Hotel Info; HOTEL/RESERVATION INFO A101 40th Anniversary Reunion

22 April through 24 April 2005 South Shore Harbor Resort

2500 South Shore Blvd., League City, Texas

77573, United States Reservations: 1-800-442-5005 (When calling be sure
you tell them that you are with A101 40th Anniversary Reunion Group.)

Contact; Sharon Whitten Sales Manager Room Rate: $99.00 plus tax (12%)

I have blocked 50 rooms, with 30 rooms we get a free Hospitality Suite.
There is no penalty if we do not fill all the rooms by 15 April, any
excess will be released for normal booking. If we drop under 30 rooms,
no complementary Hospitality suite.

Reservation cut off date: 14 April 2005.

If you are interested please let me know ASAP, so I can get you on our
Morning Report and make your reservations before 14 April 2005, thanks guys.  

Sharing Gods Word, www.s-g-w.org would like to extend our
offer to you, for a free subscription to our Christian
Information Publication. It is a daily Christian e mail,
filled with devotionals from many different ministries. It
also has a full chapter of Bible Verses daily for Christian
Study. Another feature is links to other Christian Web sites
to give you additional information you can send for. You may
cancel any time with out obligation. We look forward to
serving you with Gods Word. Thank you. Put Subscription in
the subject line. Send to Brother_jim@S-G-W.org

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prayer Requests

PRAYER REQUEST

THIS IS AN EMAIL PASSED TO ME FROM A FRIEND.  THE MORE PRAYERS WE GET THE BETTER.

MAY THE LORD'S WILL BE DONE WITH THIS YOUR MAN.  LET THE GLORY OF GOD SHINE THROUGH HOWEVER GREAT THE SACRAFICE.

Subject: My son has been shot in Falujah.

I wanted to get everyone to pray for my son Chad. Today,

Sunday, I got a call from the Army that my son had been

shot in the head. I am asking for all your prayers. He was in a

Humvee going through Falujah fighting and

a gang of militia fighters fired on the Humvee and hit  Chad in the head.

The driver got him out of the city and took him to Baghdad. 

He was in fatal condition, but now has been

upgraded to stable critical. His dad and I are on

standby to fly to Washington, then on to Germany, as

soon as the military calls us to go. The Army is trying

to stabilize him enough to fly to Germany, and at that

time we will leave..

Please pray that my son will not have brain damage, and

that he will be restored and healed by the blood of

Jesus, and the grace of God. I ask for you to pass

this prayer request on, so there will be many prayer

warriors praying for him.

Thank you so much and I will try to keep you updated

on his condition.

God Bless

Vicky Field

Granbury, Texas

Please pray for this young soldier and please pass    

My daughter, Cheryl Schneider.  there is a concern that she may have a thyroid condition plus it

has been noticable that she has something which looks like it could be a goiter extending from the

collar bone area.   She is being scheduled for blood draws to check this out.  please pray!

2. My son-in-law, Earl Schneider  pain is getting worse from the traction therapy that he is

receiving to help his pinched nerve   this is a necessity but prayer does help in all things!

again,  please pray.

3. My friend, Ruth (90yrs of age), a lonely widow with no family has possible cancer which

the doctors first thought were shingles; were not, then thought it was an infection but meds

did not help - now the concern is possible cancer - she is scheduled on Apr 4 to see a

dermotolgist.  again, please pray.  

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SENIOR WRITERS

Agee, Vance;  Apted, Violet;  Baker, Kathy;  Batt, Al;  Berry, Nell;

Boda, Ginger;  Bryant, Sharon;  Cassady, B.J.;  Crider, Mark;  Deming, Barb; 

Goodier, Steve;  Harris, Kathy Anne;  Hunt, Sharlette;  Jacobson, Gary; 

Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Jenkins, Pamela;

 Liles, Norma;  Mazzella, Joe;  Ojeigbe, Georgewaters; Shaw,Bob; Sims, Richard; Vaknin, Sam; Walker, Joe;  Warner, Gorden K; Whirity, Kathy;  White, Robert;

STORYTIME TAPESTRY STAFF

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Moderator: Clara Westerfer

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