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Subject: April 26, 2005 - Storytime Tapestry Newsletter - April26, 2005



STORYTIME TAPESTRY

 

April 26, 2005

 

 

Happy Birthday Ruth Elkins, from your friends at Storytime Tapestry

 

I apologize to Susan Bryant for listing the wrong email address under her story The Photo, for those of you would like to contact her and tell her how much you enjoyed the story the correct email address is: 1946 @bellsouth.net

 

 

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

 

 

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

 

Before Darkness, Awakens, To Rise
Kathy Anne Harris


David Klovis grew up in
Fresno. His father had been in the Air Force, loved everything about airplanes and moved his family into a new home within a mile of the airport's runway.

David had inherited his father's love of all things associated with aviation. He never tired of watching the aircraft land and take off--or hearing the growl of the ANG--144th Fighter Wing, F-16 Fighting Falcons.

So it was that David had a house built as close to the airport as the one he had lived in as a child. At most, it was a ten minute drive from home to work--The Air National Guard. Eight years ago Staff Sgt. David Klovis had made a career of the Guard and he had never regretted his decision.

At thirty years of age he was very satisfied with life. He had a wife, young daughter, and two lovable male Labs--one black, one chocolate. He had a job he enjoyed and going home at the end of the day was always a pleasure. His wife, Ellie, with her ready smile and welcoming embrace was something he looked forward to. Shortly after arriving home he'd usually find his daughter, Ginene, in the backyard with the Labs.

The two "boys" and his daughter were inseparable. David had brought the siblings home six months before his daughter was born. They were gifts; one for his wife and one for his unborn daughter. Ellie had named them--the black pup was
Duncan
, and the chocolate pup's name was Hunter.

Today they were celebrating their fifth birthday. True, the boys' birthday and Ginene's were six months apart, but his daughter insisted that their birthdays be observed on the same day, as they were all family in her eyes.

He and Ellie had a special evening planned for Ginene and the boys. A DVD rental, popcorn, and drinks. David was to get take-out Chinese food for dinner. After their meal they'd all gather in the family room to watch a Disney movie, "Homeward Bound." Ellie was not too big on cake. Neither were the boys. Popcorn was everyone's favorite and was a must when watching a movie. Ice teas or diet colas were the cool frosty beverages of choice.

When the night wore down and David and Ellie found the little ones snuggled together on the soft carpet, with pillows all around them... it was time for bed. David went to Ginene and talked quietly to her, while rocking her shoulder in an attempt to awaken her. He ended up pulling his daughter into his arms and carrying her to her bedroom. Ellie convinced the boys it was bedtime and directed them to follow her. Reluctant, with sleepy faces on, they shuffled behind.

David gently settled his daughter into her bed, pulled the covers up to her chin and kissed her warm cheek. Ellie nodded to the boys. They circled three times, then laid down beside Ginene's bed. Within the hour they'd be nestled 'round Ginene. All three breathing deep and steady, dreaming dreams and sighing contentedly.

After changing into his sleeping clothes, David lumbered into the kitchen and prepared a pot of coffee. He pulled out a chair and sat at the table. He was dearly hoping the coffee would clear his mind, anchor his thoughts, so he could sort out the frantic reality that was delivered to his inbox earlier in the day.

"Honey, something the matter?" Ellie walked over to him and gingerly put her hand on his neck. Her skin was cool and silky. Her touch, calming. She sat down beside him, squeezed his knee reassuringly.

His voice was rough, subdued. "I received orders today." He turned to Ellie. "I'm being sent to
Iraq
."

Ellie drew in a quick breath, then bit her lower lip. Her eyes grew wide and gleamed with sudden tears. She nodded, flashed him a weak smile, put her hand to her mouth and wept.

David pulled his wife to him and shut his eyes against the bright heat of his own tears. Stroking her hair he repeated the only thing he was able to utter.... "I love you. I love you, Ellie."

~~*~~

The night before David was to leave he tucked Ginene into bed, sat on the edge of the mattress and studied the drowsy face of his little girl. Images of the day-to-day moments he shared with his family played out in his thoughts. That is what he'd miss the most--the simple pleasures that gave life to the heart of him. He shook his head, then looked out into the night. Winter's cold breath had frosted the edges of the window. Unawares, David shivered.

He felt a tug on his sleeve. "Daddy, what's the matter?"

David turned to his daughter. "I'm going to be gone for a while. I'm leaving tomorrow and you and Mommy will come to the airport to see me off."

"Will you be back before dark? Will you be here to tuck me in at night?" A troubled expression creased her brow.

David smiled. "I'd love that. But I don't know when I'll be able to. Soon, I hope."

"Me, too!" She pursed her trembling lips. "I don't much like the dark."

"Ah, Honey, I know." He nodded to the Labs. "Hunter and Duncan will keep you safe."

Ginene looked from the Labs to her dad. She then reached out and hugged her father around the neck.


~~*~~

It had been a splendid spring day. From her swing Ginene watched heavy, fat clouds with gray bellies traveling west from the Sierras. The setting sun cast clean, bright light out, limning the clouds in an orangy glow. A breeze kicked up and blew over Ginene like a sigh.

Hunter and Duncan were tussling on the lawn. They suddenly looked up and whined happily.

Ginene climbed out of the swing and stood watching the Labs. Curious as to why they were behaving so oddly.

"My sweet daughter, you have grown some since last I saw you. Oh, how I have missed you."

Duncan and Hunter whimpered and wagged their tales. Ginene crossed over to them and looked around.

"You two take care of her, will you?" The Labs stood, one of each side of Ginene. They were panting and smiling--their whole bodies wagging their welcome.

Then, with the senses that children and a few gifted adults possess, she gazed out toward the sunset and muttered one word... "Daddy?!"

~~*~~

That morning the global war on terrorism had claimed the life of many American patriots. David was killed in a grenade attack on the Iraqi-Kuwait border. His name, rank, and cause of death would be added to the growing Memorial of National Guard men and women who had given their lives for the freedom of strangers.

To their family, they are everything. To their country, they are the blood of the nation. The fiber of integrity, and valor. They are the spirit of freedom and every American should be proud to call them "kin."

May your day be blessed, and every day that wakens you anew...

~~*~~***~~*~~

For all the men and women who have served their country, I dedicate this story.

Copyright 2005, by Kathy Anne Harris
kathap @angelrays.biz

kathyanneharris@spirit-soul.com

RELATED LINk:
http://www.spirit-soul.com/BeyondTheBridge.html
My websites:
http://www.spirit-soul.com/BeyondTheBridge.html
http://spirit-soul.com/ToShareWithYou.html

I am a social worker by day, a writer by life. I live in
California's San Joaquin Valley. My works have been featured in:
2TheHeart, StoryTime Tapestry, Starfish, Driftwood, Cat Tails,
Petwarmers, Heartwarmers, Insight of the Day*, and Moments of
Reflections. I am also a weekly columnist for the publication "Frank
Talk" which is distributed in three counties in Michigan, USA.

 

Today's Queue Stories
~**~**~**~
 

 

 

 

 

SSS IS FOR SNORING

Kathy Whirity

 

There are some women who claim that the rhythmic sound of their husband's snoring is like music to their ears.  They say it's comforting to lay beside their mate, listening to the flowing sound, an assuring, vocal reminder that all is well.  I am not one of those women.

 

I like to think of Bill and I as soul mates, a perfectly contented married couple except, of course, for one thing.  Bill can wake the dead with his snoring.

Imagine an earthquake at 8.5 on the Richter scale, and you've pretty much got the idea.

 

When we first got married I would lie awake to the sounds of a buzz saw going off in my ear.  I would try to be patient as I tried, through clenched teeth, to imagine this as music to my ears.

But, two minutes into this imagery I'd go straight for the nose, as in grabbing his as tight as I could.

This would, naturally, turn my mild mannered husband into a maniac. I soon learned a wife could get hurt doing that, or at the very least, pushed right off the bed.

 

We tried everything to silence the snoring.  Tennis balls sewn into the back of p.j tops didn't help - he'd just get use to them being there and lay on his back anyway.

He even agreed to the drastic measure of taping his mouth shut but that, too, proved ineffective.

 

Once, in the deafening silence of the middle of the night I awoke to what sounded like a woman crying out for help.  Half asleep, I jumped out of bed and ran to the bedroom window in terror.  It sounded so close but yet so far away.  The words sounded muffled--

rape~rape!  Was there a poor soul out there in the dark, crying out for help?

Thankfully, it turned out, I was the only victim, held hostage to Bill's new noise - a result of a taped mouth that caused a whistling from his nose that sounded eerily like someone's muffled cry for help.

The tape came off and, as a result, Bill landed on the couch.

 

At last I could enjoy some well deserved, uninterrupted sleep - that is, until the aggravated whine of our daughter broke the silence.  "MOM!", she yelled from behind closed doors, "I can STILL hear him!"

 

One sleep study later we found that Bill suffers from sleep apnea.  Finally, hopefully, something could be done to bring quiet to our nights.

 

Bill was outfitted with head gear and a machine that would provide constant and even air flow, to the back of his throat, all night long. Sure the machine made noise of its own but that was easy to get use to.  What did take a little getting use to was lying in bed next to someone who looked like a character from Sea Hunt.

 

Oh, were we excited! Gone would be the days of sporting matching sets of bags under our eyes, mine from his snoring serenades, and his from my constantly nudging him awake to stop the unwelcome racket.  It was a vicious circle.

 

Bill has since had two surgeries in his quest for quiet slumber.  And for awhile you could hear a pin drop as we drifted off to sleep.  But, it didn't last for long.

 

Every once in awhile the jackhammer intensity that vibrates the dream filled hours of darkness shake the house once again.  But I've come to accept what I cannot change.

For I've come to realize that, no matter how much I love my husband, I will never get use to that non-stop nasal sound of a freight train, no matter how hard I try.

 

S is for snoring and for snoozing solo at times, to ensure the sanity of a solid marriage.


Kathy Whirity

Kathy Whirity @ yahoo.com

 

Kathy Whirity is a newspaper columnist from Chicago where she lives with her

husband Bill of 28 years, her 2 daughters and her 2 rambunctious Retrievers, Hannah

and Holly.  Kathy's writings can also be viewed online.  She has been published in

Storytime Tapestry, Hearts with Soul, Warm Fuzzy Stories, and Write2theHeart,

She has contributed to "The Golden Formula, The Joy of Alzheimer's, When

Tears Are Dried With Laughter and "Journey of the Mind. Kathy welcomes your e-mails.

You may drop her a line at 

Kathywhirity @yahoo.com

 ~**~**~  

REFLECTIONS OF GOD??™S LOVE

By: Joseph J. Mazzella

     I went looking for some old friends today at the lake near my home. These friends were a beautiful family of Canadian Geese that had first showed up at the lake in the Spring of this year. I had watched the babies grow from fuzzy little hatchlings to magnificent birds the size of their parents in just six months. They had been a welcome part of our joyful walks around the lake. They were always there either swimming across it or eating near the water ,and they had always allowed us to walk peacefully past them as we strolled the lakeshore.

     Today, however, they were nowhere to be found. I guess that they decided that it was time to fly South before the colder weather finally set in. I knew I was going to miss their company this Winter and I hoped that they would return again next Spring. As I looked out across the lake for them one last time and saw the mountains and sky reflecting in the clear, calm water I smiled. I knew that no matter where they were they would still be reflecting God??™s love and light in their lives just as the lake was reflecting it to me right now. I just hoped that there was some beautiful, human soul there to see them and give thanks to God for them as well.

     It isn??™t just crystal clear lakes or beautiful families of Canadian Geese that are reflections of God??™s love and light in this world, though. Each and everyone of us can be a reflection of it too. We can reflect the love, joy, beauty, peace, and light that God blesses us with every single day of our lives. We can share it with everyone everywhere. We can make it a part of all the many, beautiful choices we make each day. But most of all we can add the love, joy, and light of our own brilliant souls to it. We can not only be a mirror reflecting all the goodness God blesses us with, but can also be a beacon of shining joy, light-filled love, and glowing oneness with God for all the world to see and rejoice in.

Joseph J. Mazzella
joecool @ wirefire.com


Joe lives in
West Virginia with his wife and three children. Various dogs and cats

have adopted Joe and his family for their own. Joe enjoys his family, beauty, love

and hearing from his email friends. Joe likes to take the time to smell the

roses and enjoy the beauty around him as he goes about his daily life.

 

 

 

Poetry Section

                                                 ~**~**~

 

 

 

Being
Charith Pelpola

 

A beat, my heartbeat
A rhythm, a river
A journey of atoms
Of ions, of minerals
A vessel that carries a spark
The pulse, I can feel it
A chain that cannot be broken
Biology, mechanics, equilibrium
Proteins and acids
Names in a game
The sequence
Radiates through me
Replication, duplication
Incantations
Ancestors' songs
I can feel it
Nothing has changed
Memory in the blood
Instinct in the vein
I am just the vessel
My thoughts and dreams
Carriers of this disease
Comfort in impermanence
And when the sequence ends
It will all start again
The journey, the river
The Rhythm

 

(c)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.

 

~**~**~  

A Childhood Summer

Tim Kevin

Picking a found dandelion for Mom as if it were a rose
-
Feeling the cool summer mud squish thru your barefoot toes
-
Huggin' a mason jar and chasin' firelies in the yard on a warm summer
nite
-
Kick the can or red rover til time to go home when on came the street
light
-
Lovin' the summers first sweet corn on the cob letting butter run down
your chin
-
Eating so much penny candy, mary janes an licorice sticks it just had to
be a sin.
-
Wearin' an clickin' metal cleats on your shoe toes an heels
-
Building orange crate scooters with a roller skate wheels
-
Seeing the "Milky Way" on a magical night with stars almost close enough
to touch
-
Waiting for a fat green tomato to turn red on the vine that you want to
eat so much.
-
Beatin' the hot summer city heat, splashin' and laughin' while wielding
a garden hose. -
Getting soaked from opened fire hydrants, dashin' thru water just
gushin' from those.
-
Hide an seek an sneakin' a peek at that favorite cute gal down the
street.
-
Going to the drug store fountain counter for an ice cream soda treat
-
Playin' street games using a tree or light pole for the goal
-
Buying glue and a piece of rubber at the 5 & 10 an fixin' a hole in your
sole
-
Laying in the cool grass blowing white fluff off off dried up dandelions
to make a wish on.
-
Staring in wonderment as a butterfly soft as an angels kiss, on your arm
it alights upon
-
Saturday afternoon Buck Rogers serials an western movies in the balcony
at the local Bijou.
-
Captain Midnite, Green Hornet, The Shadow and secrets and code rings to
hide from view.
-
Skinning your knees on cement playing fruit basket basketball
-
Mibs and marbles, mumbley peg too, and sewer to sewer baseball
-
Roastin' taters, hotdogs an marshmellows on a vacant lot bonfire
-
Floatin' in a lake on some ole patched-up inner tube tire
-
Putting Ice cream bar sticks in the spoked wheels of your bike
-
Helpin' the imagination in thinkin' an Indian or Harley it might sound
like 
-
Rummaging for green coke bottles thru garages, basements and closets
-
Returnin' em to buy Cherry Cokes or a Green River with the penny
deposits
-
Raiding the ice-man's truck for a summer ice treat when left without the
driver
-
Mom always ready with Band aids and iodine to treat every scrape,
bruise, blister an sliver.
-
Loving the pungent sweet smell of an autumn bonfire's burning leaves
-
Knowing summer was over an school to begin as the foilage was gone from
the trees.
-
The Irish Warlock

IrishWarlock @ webtv.net

 

About Me:
-
 
Tim Kevin, is the owner of the Yahoo adult
humor group, BICs_Jokers_Wild and resides in
Punta Gorda, Florida.

 

~**~**~  

 

Taps

 B.J. Cassady

  (For my dad, a tail gunner in a B-24 Bob Cassady)

 

Taps are played for those brave men

Who never know what futures may have been.

 

They fought and died for the flag that is true.

For freedom. freedom for me and for you.

 

They marched though battles grim and bad.

Grit is what these men of honor had.

 

They fought, they died.  For what you ask?

They would say for her, for ma, and pa.  That was our task.

 

So when taps plays on any day.

Take a minute to remember these men and then pray.

 

Think about the soldiers when we look at our flag and be not sad.

Red is for the blood shed for our land, our future, for this be glad.

 

Blue is for the honor with which they carried out their task.

Remember to carry honor with you while in freedom you bask.

 

White is for the purity, the innocence of the young men.

Thank God for these men. Remember them when you pray and say amen.

 

When at night you put your children to bed,

Tell them of the heroes that continued their journey, not dead.

 

With God they reside in the heavens that is best.

For they survived the ultimate test.

 

Play taps at night for the men who have marched on,

that we may have peace because of the battles they won.

 

B.J. Cassady

BJ.Cassady @ af-group.com

 

B.J. Cassady is a Stephen Minister at

Edmond Trinity Church and ISD professional

in Guthrie, Oklahoma.  A disabled Vietnam

era USAF vet,  BJ enjoys giving back to

the world with his writings and is putting

together a CD audio collection of his best

writings.  For further information please

write: bj.enterprises  @juno.com

Also look for his story 'Medals' in

"More Patriot Hearts" by Lt Col William

Coffey and "The Quilt".

 

 

Writers Feedback

 

Re: Kay Seefeldt??™s interview. I was just up to my sister, Kay??™s, and helped weed her garden readying it for planting and to allow her perennials to breath when they surface again this year.   Furiously pulling them from the earth, I kept muttering, "Stupid weeds!" It worked.   I got a laugh out of her!

 

We share many fond memories from our childhood years. We didn't always fight!  Now in our adult years we are making many more wonderful memories together.  Kay is not only my sister but my very best friend.

 

Sandy

 

I thoroughly enjoyed "The Envelope Please" by David Wainland. David, I too turned 65 this year and had mixed emotions about receiving that special envelope/card. I don't feel this old, do you? But I'm happy that I survived to this point and plan on receiving many of those checks--and the care offered by Medicare. Thanks for a good read.

Barb Deming

 

Prayer Requests

To all;

 

Please pray for me and Jackie both, we both have been struck down hard with bad

chest colds, I have been up all night coughing / throwing up and Jackie is the same

Thank you all for your prayers for us!

 

Thanks again and God bless you all

 

Richard & Jackie Sims

 

 

 

SENIOR WRITERS

 

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

Boda, Ginger;  Bryant, Sharon;  Buhagiar, Victor; 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;

  Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan;  Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam;

Walker, Bill;  Walker, Joe; Warner, Gorden K;

Whirity, Kathy;  White, Robert;

 

 

 

STORYTIME TAPESTRY STAFF

Publisher: Carol Roach-founder

Moderator: Thelma Hartselle-co founder

Moderator: Clara Westerfer

 

 

 

Send all inquires about the newsletter including submission requirements:

Winterose  @videotron.ca  

 









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