STORYTIME TAPESTRY

April 29, 2005

 Now on to the good stuff..........

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

THE FEATHER

Sandra Woodward 

A small feather

Soft and pale.

Tangible memory

From the creature who

Stole my heart.

This little quill to

Remember him by.

Did you know,

Sweet bird, we were

Soon to part?

       As I penned the poem from my anguish, my tears turned some of the words into tiny oil like spills radiating outward, but my thoughts were turned inward.

     Just three weeks before I had been looking forward to taking Smidgy and Krick to camp after a horrendous work week.  "One more day," I sighed reaching to pick up the store's ringing phone.

     "Hop in, Smidgy," I urged my overly excitable, cocker spaniel, while placing the seat belt around Kricky's cage.  Krick, a white faced cockatiel, and Smidgy are my favorite sidekicks when enjoying my stays at camp.

     That evening I breathed in the peace, quiet, and serenity while holding Kricky close to my heart, and watched Smidgy sleeping contentedly at my feet.  Being grateful for a little bit of heaven on earth, as I gently rocked in my rocker.

     "O,K., Smidgy, hold on boy."  I placed Kricky on my shoulder,"Krick, while Smidge is out doing his morning duties, we can enjoy the beautiful sunshine."

     When I opened the cabin door, a slight breeze tugged at my bathrobe.  A warning from a  manual crossed my mind against taking a bird out in windy conditions which could give lift to its wings.  Quickly, I brushed the thought aside.  It was barely blowing, and his wings were newly trimmed.

     I stepped outside.  The breeze was not as gentle as I'd perceived.  Instantly, I felt Krick's claws release from my shoulder.  I watched horrified as he soared over the newly cut brush towards the tallest tree of the surrounding forest.

     "Kricky," I screamed running after him, "No, Krick, no!"

     Overwhelmed by guilt, heartrending grief, and shame filled my soul because I had not taken seriously the heeding from the article.

     I called a friend from my cell phone and between sobs, I told her what had happened and asked for ernest prayer.   "Thank you, but don't come out, as Krick doesn't  know you, he'd be afraid to respond if he heard your voice.  Pray, pray hard because a miracle is needed now."

     "Hello, Clyde, this is Sandy.  If anyone comes into your store to buy bird food will you please ask them, if by chance, it's for a cockatiel they have found.  Thanks, and I'd appreciate your posting a sign on your bulletin board for me."

     The remainder of the day I spent searching, calling Krick's name, and listening for his cries.

     "Lord," I pleaded, "Please, please keep him safe.  I'm sorry, Father, for my negligence.  I want him back, please, help me find him."

     As night approached, I was overcome with fear as a fierce rain storm was brewing.  Soon the ground and I were drenched as I continued  to scour the land with my small flashlight.

     Next morning, I put Krick's cage outside, hoping against hope that he would spot it and return to its shelter.

     I had to return home with an empty cage and a broken heart.

     One evening the phone rang, a lady said, "Hello, you don't know me, but I was told you had lost a bird recently."

     My voice caught in my throat,  "Yes, that is correct.  Do you have him?"

     "Depends," the lady replied, "I want to make absolutely certain the bird I found belongs to you.  Can you describe him for me?"

     I quickly responded, "His name is Kricky.  He's a soft dove gray color and he doesn't have the orange cheek patches.  He is referred to as a white faced cockatiel.  He looks very baby like.  Do you have him?"

     Still the lady hesitated to affirm one way or the other.  "Is there anything else you can tell me that might set my heart at ease whether or not this bird is yours?"

     By now, I desperately needed an answer. "Lady, does he say, "Here kitty, kitty, grrrrr, grrrrr, grrrrr?"  I heard the unpleasantness that had crept into my voice.  How many white faced cockatiels had she seen, I fumed inwardly!

     "Yes, yes, he does say that!"  Her excitement made me feel shame over my haughty retort.

     "Please, forgive me for my snippiness with you.  I've been distraught for so long.  When can I come get him?"

     She gave me the directions and just before hanging up, she said, "I have an astounding story to tell you."

     I flew to my car.  Forty five minutes, my love, and we will be together again.

     The lady opened the door to her RV inviting me in.  After Krick and I rejoiced over our reunion, she placed a cup of tea before me and proceeded to tell me a most remarkable story.

     "On the morning of my daughter's wedding day, she went out to put food in our feeders.  There in the front yard was this tiny bird.  She could tell he was fatigued.  Putting out her hand, he weakly stepped up."

     "Incredible," I breathed, "how in the world did he make it across the wide expanse of Nash's Lake on clipped wings?"  I shook my head in amazement.

     "I hurried to the feed store and purchased a cage, toys, and food for him.   I hate to admit it, but I refused to give my name to the shop owner.  I was extrememly busy and didn't want to deal with finding this bird's owner."  Her voice dropped,  "To be truthful, I didn't know if I could let him go.  You see, just before my husband passed away, he'd bought me a cockatiel.  That little bird meant the world to me.  I clung to him because he was my husband's parting gift.  I had him for seven years before he, too, left a vacant place in my heart."

     She sighed heavily.  "Well, you can imagine, here it was my daughter's wedding day and this beautiful cockatiel showed up out of the blue!  We named him Daddy Birdie, and he was part of our wedding festivities.  I wanted to keep him so badly, but I could tell he wasn't coming around and appeared very sad."

     "When things had settled down," she continued, "I knew it was time for me to do the right thing and find his owner."  I'd written down your number from the bulletin board at the store, so here we are!"

     "I'm sorry I let you suffer for so long."  She looked at Krick lovingly, "He's a special bird.  He helped to make my daughter's wedding without her father easier for all of us to bear."

       On my homeward journey, I pondered Isiah 40:31:

but those who hope in the Lord

will renew their strength.

They will soar on

wings like eagles;

they will run

and not grow weary,

they will walk

and not be faint.

      God had strengthened Krick's wings to enable him to cross Nash's Lake.  How could I not trust Him to strengthen me, His child?

Sandra Woodward

4/2/05

 Sassa @localnet.com

Authors Bio:  Many years have passed since Annie went on to doggie heaven but her memory remains in our hearts.  Often times when Erik, Zack, and I get together we reminisce about the happy days spent playing with Annie and laughing over the funny, cute, and oft times silly things she did to amuse us.

Sandy makes her home in coastal Maine next to the Canadian border.  She shares her life and home with seven birds and a Cocker Spaniel, who has never known the heartache of being unloved.

<p>Today's Queue Stories</p>
<p>~**~**~**~</p> 

- The Good Old Days -

Joyce C. Lock

    Eventful isn't always fun.  But, one might as well laugh at it.

    We worked harder at Grandma's house than any place on earth.  There was no electricity in the earlier years.  Water had to be drawn from the well.  Milk came straight from the cow ... gross.  And, food was still alive!

    The table was set with all sorts of foreign oddities modern day children would abhor.  If it didn't come in a box or bag, forget it.  This was a really good week to go on a diet!

    None of us ... absolutely none of us sisters ever have any desire to go camping, fishing, hunting, or even to have a garden.  We got our fill in our early years.

    The good old days my foot!  I bet I could write a funny page about them good old days.  Grandma thought for sure them there chickens would peck us to death!

    The only thing worse than the stinky splinter potentialed outhouse was the dreaded ice cold pot.  And, if there wasn't a full moon, you were on your own.  We'd often cheat and pee just outside the front door, thinking it would be dry by morning, none the wiser.  Maybe that's why there was never anything green growing around the doorway.

    Our evening entertainment selection was a toss up between watching coal burn or counting the rat wholes in the walls.  Though, the flicker of lanterns was cool to observe.

    Oh, and night time was so exhausting ... three of us sisters trying to sleep in a three-quarter feather bed, with quilts piled so high one couldn't reposition themselves if they had to.  The only thing welcomed about that was awaking to frigid temperatures wherein we, finally, were glad to not move.  Only, the bladder usually did not cooperate.  Rats!

    The highlight of the entire event was returning home to watch our friends drool.  We had vacationed just outside of London, all right ... London, KY.  Awe, the good old days.

?© by Joyce C. Lock
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/smilesharing/

 ~**~**~  

Email Changed My Life

Susan Roberts

Because of being injured at work, I spend as much time at the computer as I can. Some days the pain keeps me off and I feel as if I am missing out on things.

I sat down at my computer, coffee cup in hand, to read my e mail and prayer requests on the four sites I belong to. Little did I know that the first one I opened would change my life forever.

???I seed you on the prayer playce so I nos that you prayers for pepels. Can you tells me why pepels don??™t prays for me? I needs helps and no one don??™t helps me.???

I looked at the e mail address. It wasn??™t from anyone I had contact with before, and it surely it wasn??™t a friend playing a joke on me!

I wrote back: ???I am so sorry you have not gotten any response from people. If you could tell me what your needs are I will be more than happy to pray for you and have my online friends pray too.???

I went back to reading my other e mail and prayer requests, but that note I had first read kept popping back into my mind. Was it a man or woman that had written it, and what did they need prayer for? Oh well, maybe it was a joke!

I stood up, stretched and poured another cup of coffee. I can only sit for so long before the pain in my neck and back drives me away from my computer. A short time later I was back to my e mails.

There was another e mail from that person, so I opened it to read: ??? Prayers for my husband to not hits me no mors and stop yel to my sun.???

???Oh my goodness!??? I said out loud ???I need to send this one to Jo!??? Jo is a wonderful Christian lady that has an on line prayer group that I have belonged to since it was first started. I sent an e mail off to her with the note I had gotten, copied so she could read it. ???Jo, do you know this person???? I asked. ???it sounds like she is desperate for prayers. I wonder which prayer group she got my addy from.???

I got a reply from Jo saying she had never heard of this person and yes we need to pray for her.

The next day I got another e mail from the girl, giving me a little more information. Her name was Linda ( I have changed her real name and the other names.) She had just turned 21 and had 2 little kids that she was very proud of. Her husband was physically abusive to her and had started being verbally abusive to DJ her 5 year old son, and she was worried. She said that she had married very young and had to drop out of school. She also had a daughter, Deana that was 2.

Her story made me cry. I passed this e mail on to Jo so she too could see what we were dealing with. And I prayed.

In the next few months Jo and I wrote to Linda, giving her our prayers and our love. There would be days that we wouldn??™t get any e mail and we worried when Linda told us she hadn??™t been able to get on line because her husband had beaten her and taken her computer away. The beatings were getting closer together and the days of contact further apart. Jo and I both begged Linda to get some help, get away from this situation, and we prayed.

We had not gotten any e mail for several weeks and both Jo and I felt that Linda must be dead, or so hurt she couldn??™t get on line.

We were relieved and excited to get an e mail telling us that she had gotten some help and got away from her husband and was safe. The children both seemed happier and more relaxed. She said that she had a caseworker that she just loved. Mary had helped her get a job, the first one she had ever had, and she loved it!

Mary had helped Linda and Nan, another woman at the shelter, get a house together. They were in an older 4 bedroom house and DJ, Deana and Jake, the other woman??™s son were settling in.

Soon Jo and I were getting e mail from Mary, the case worker, telling us how wonderful things were going and how Linda had developed into a wonderful worker and friend. She thanked us for getting Linda away from the abuse.

We only did what GOD led us to do, and that was to pray and offer love to this little backward girl who changed our lives too.

GOD also led me to write a book about Linda, in hope that it could help another woman get out of an abusive relationship. GOD blessed me by bringing Linda into my life, and I thank HIM every day for the lessons she has taught me.

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.

~**~**~

 FULL CIRCLE
by Jaye Lewis

     I was feeling my age that morning as I limped from the parking lot up
to the Physical Therapy Building.
     I was pushing fifty.  I was crippled and I was feeling like a failure.
Thankfully, I was happily married.  However, health problems had cut short
my dreams of finishing my education.  Gloomily, I couldn't recall a thing
that I had ever done that was important.
     My thoughts became more disheartened when I noticed the middle aged
man limping in front of me -- his long gray hair blowing in the wind.  I
just knew I'd be stuck in the waiting room with him.  I was in no mood for
a conversation.  I knew I was in for a long and painful wait.
     By the time I reached the hallway, one of the two chairs available was
occupied by the gray-haired man.  Reluctantly, I took my seat next to him,
hoping that I could bury myself within the pages of an outdated magazine.
     My bubble of protection was immediately interrupted by his curious
stare.  I looked up with a sigh.  He gave me an uncertain smile as our eyes
met.
     "I know you," he said.
     "No you don't."
     "Yes, I'm certain I know you."
     "I'm not from here," I insisted.
     "No.  I've met you someplace before."
     "That's impossible.  I'm certain we've never met."
     "I feel that I know you from long ago," he said, with conviction.
     In spite of myself, I was intrigued.  We played "twenty questions,"
and we finally got around to the Vietnam War and San Francisco.
     He had served in the Army.  He'd been wounded in battle, and he was
darned proud of it.
     "I didn't do anything important," I said.  "I served stateside, as a
U.S. Navy WAVE, at San Francisco International Airport.  I married way too
soon and I was discharged when I became pregnant," my voice trailed off.
     Suddenly, the man became very excited.
     "I remember receiving help from a young WAVE," he grinned, "with red
hair just like yours!  It was in the spring of '67, when I came back
wounded from Vietnam."
     He continued.
     "I've never seen anyone like her, before or since.  She moved heaven
and earth to make sure that I was well taken care of.  She was a tiger, all
right.  I was badly wounded, barely dragging on crutches.  She got me into
a wheelchair, and she literally ran after a local bus, making them stop.
Then she nearly carried me on board, giving the driver careful instructions
to make sure that I arrived at the hospital, safe and sound.  And then she
called to see how I was!
     "I didn't see her, again, until four months later, when I was heading
home, still on crutches.  All I saw was this WAVE fighting like a wildcat,
trying to get away from some drunken sailor."
     Chills crept up my spine as I remembered the wounded soldier who had
rescued me.
     "I just couldn't let that girl be ill-treated, after all she had done
for me.  I threatened that sailor with one of my crutches and he finally
put her down.  I escorted her back to her desk..."
     "And then you went and got the sailor," I choked on the words, "and
you made him apologize to me."
     Tears streamed down my cheeks, as I remembered that day, and him.
     How could this happen?  My rescuer from 1967 was sitting next to me,
twenty-five years later and half a continent away.  Our lives had come full
circle, and there we sat -- thanking each other for a mutual kindness, long
ago.
     We talked for a long time, and then we parted.  I learned some
important truths that day.
     First, people are seldom what they seem to be, at first glance.
     Second, kindness is its own reward.  It changes the lives of both parties.
     Last, I learned that though my time was short, I had served my
country, simply by serving those who had sacrificed everything.
     I continued that day a happier woman because I understood that a
kindness given will often return to bless you again.

                -- Jaye Lewis     <jlewis @ smyth.net

Jaye Lewis is a Heartwarmer Gem and contributing writer to the new Chicken
Soup for the Recovering Soul. Jaye has a lively menagerie of cats and
dogs. Jaye lives in Virginia with her husband and daughters. She writes
every day.

Writers Feedback 

  I had no idea so many people would be interested in the life of a drunk!  lol  I have received so many emails!  Lots of questions.  I will answer each one.  God bless. Makes me feel so good!

Sharlett Hunt

My Metaphorical Journey was so poetic! I just love to read the stories that come from such a beautiful mind! God bless, Sharlett

Hello, and welcome Joyce.  enjoyed your story, and all the other's. Thank you all for sharing...

Joyce Smith

Sharlette



Thank you for sharing.

I lost my first wife to alcoholism. My new wife lost her husband to it.

Your story hits home and also portrays the other side of this disease.

Mike

Keep on Waving.

Announcements

Hey everyone if you have the time please help out a fellow member who is starting up

his own newspaper. 

Carol,

Just letting you know I have a website explaining the upcoming paper, should anyone ask. Thank you for running the ad for it.

www.christianlink.com/publish/mwwj

Thanks again, Jim

SHARE SOME COMFORT

A PAID PUBLISHING OPPORTUNITY FOR UPLIFTING PERSONAL STORIES

A Cup of Comfort is a best-selling anthology (book) series, featuring powerful true stories about the experiences and relationships that inspire and enrich our lives. Stories are selected for inclusion in A Cup of Comfort based on originality, creativity, and substance.

Creative nonfiction stories are actively being sought for two new volumes:

A CUP OF COMFORT FOR EXPECTANT MOTHERS

Having a baby is one of the most exciting, challenging, and magical experiences in a woman??™s life. It can also be an emotional roller-coaster ride and physical endurance test. Never more so than during pregnancy does a woman need a little extra TLC??”and the purpose of each of the 50 stories to be included in this anthology is to bring comfort and encouragement to expectant moms of all ages and backgrounds, whether expecting their first child or their tenth. To that end, we seek uplifting personal stories about the memorable experiences that inspire, reassure, sustain, and delight women during those wondrous and sometimes anxious months of planning, conceiving, carrying, delivering, and finally welcoming home a new bundle (or bundles) of joy. Any topic relevant to this unique time in a woman??™s life is acceptable, as long as the story is positive and meaningful to expectant mothers overall.

        Submission Deadline: July 15, 2005

A CUP OF COMFORT FOR PARENTS OF CHILDREN WITH AUTISM

A child??™s diagnosis of autism usually strikes fear in the hearts of parents??”and often turns their world upside-down and their lives inside-out. The incidence of this mysterious neurobiological disorder has risen dramatically in recent years, leaving parents in search of answers, support, and hope. For this collection of 50 inspiring stories, we seek personal anecdotal stories (not prescriptive articles) about the unique aspects of parenting a child with autism and related disorders will provide parents of children with autism and related disorders (Asperger syndrome, Rett??™s disorder, disintegrative disorder, pervasive developmental disorder). Possible themes include, but are not limited to: impact on other members of family; creative solutions to everyday challenges; breakthroughs; effective treatments; silver linings; tender moments; helpful support; unexpected positive outcomes; blessings large and small; reasons for hope; adult children with autism. We are most interested in stories written by parents, but will also consider and likely publish some stories written by professionals and family members or friends with intimate knowledge of the child and parents in question.

        Submission Deadline: October 1, 2005

Stories must be original (not derived from another published work), true, positive, in English, and 1,000-2,000 words.

Payment: One $500 grand prize per book; $100 each, all other published stories. Plus copy of book.

Guidelines: http://www.cupofcomfort.com (click on "Share Your Story") or email request to cupofcomfort@adamsmedia.com. Additional volumes with varying themes are planned.

Thank you for your consideration
 
Colleen Sell
Editor, A Cup of Comfort
wordsinger@aol.com (direct)
cupofcomfort@adamsmedia.com (via publisher)

<p>Prayer Requests</P>

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

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Moderator: Thelma Hartselle-co founder

Moderator: Clara Westerfer

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