STORYTIME TAPESTRY

The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world

May 4, 2005

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

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

KINDNESS

By Bill Walker

 Yesterday I spent a day in the city of

Omaha. Downtown. I don't like downtown Omaha.

I had to park in one of those high rise

parking lots. Hate those things. I was up

about 4 floors. I had Mr.Tink and Mr.Poo

along. I was at one of those deals in the

hotel to try to learn how to do something.

It was an all day session. So every once in

a while I would go see about The Boys. Water,

food and a west room trip. No I didn't

misspell or hit the wrong key. They go to

the West Room. We were outside looking for a

tree, which can be a very hard thing to do

downtown in any large city.

The Boys were just doing their dog thing

when I spotted two ladies. One was walking

very slow with the aid of a walker. She was

a white lady.  The other lady was a lady of

color, an African American.

I was thinking one lady was caring for the

other in some fashion. Well, I was wrong,

but also right.

I had more ground to cover to get back to

the 4th floor of this place than the two

women but I still made it to the elevator

before they did. I held the lift (as the

English people call those things) until the

women got on.

That is when I got the rest of the story. Now

understand both were dressed real nice. You

could tell they were ladies of class.  At

first I assumed one was working for the

other. I will let you do the thinking of the

way it went??¦

Wrong.

You see, the lady with the walker was lost,

unable to find her car. She had wondered over

to the wrong place. The other lady spotted

her and saw a person who needed help. She

could very well have simply told her that

her car could be in the other parking high

rise. But out of the goodness of her heart,

she stayed and walked with this lady to the

other one.

This lady took the time help.  And it did

take a good deal of time to walk along side

of the woman with the walker, to see to it

she got across the street, and back to her

car.

What the one did for the other, I call it

sister love. The one could have very well

said, "What is it to me? She is white, I

don't care for people of that color." But

she didn't let that thought into her mind.

Maybe she never had it to start with. You

know I believe that. Like I said. You could

tell she was a first-class human being.

Help one another in time of need.

If nothing else came of the day. I saw

something I will long remember. Here was a

true Good Samaritan.

I think it could be called "KINDNESS".

I bet a note of the fact was made in Heaven

of what this one lady did for the other. I

wonder which was the angel and who gained the

most. Maybe both were angels and both gained.

I know I learned and gained by seeing such

an act of sister love.

I learned more in a few minutes with these

two ladies than I did hearing these people

trying to teach me how to do something.

I thought it was a wasted day. I may have

learned something after all. The Good

Samaritan lives and is still with us??¦ even

in these trying days. They come in all sizes

and colors of skin.

Bill Walker

wildbill6807 @yahoo.com

Well I??™m a story teller, not a writer. Never learned the art of fancy English. I

happen to live in Nebraska, but I??™m still Missouri. Never married, all the Dollies I

ever took a second look at was too smart. Now at 74, just turned that other day, I

figure they all home safe. I love Doggies and Dollies in that order. Lost my two

true friends this year, that be Tinker and Poo. So I found me a new one. This

time a little girlie Peke. She is a normal female. Got a mouth, talks all the time.

She will never be a great writers of stories like Tinker and Poo. They have

about 50 stories on HWS. And now writing back from Rainbow Bridge.

I just try to write about people, places and things best I remember. Have something

over 250 stories on HWS. under three names.   

Today's Queue Stories
~**~**~**~ 

~ The Joy of My Salvation ~

Joyce C. Lock
 
 
    During a church revival, I came under conviction and asked many questions, on the way home.  I remember the fear of not wanting to go to hell.

    It was my father that came into my bedroom, which was kind of odd, being that dad and I had never talked about much of anything.  But, mom wasn't saved, yet, herself.  So, she reneged on this one.

    Though, it wasn't bad at all ... our first meaningful conversation.  Dad brought a kitchen chair into my bedroom, I sat on the bed, and we talked.  He explained several things and led me as to how to ask Jesus into my heart.

    It has been said that I began carrying my Bible everywhere and that I went to every house, in the neighborhood, to tell others about Jesus (also with Bible in hand).  I have no idea how I might have used that Bible, if called upon to do so.  But, carrying it seemed the Christian thing to do.

    Though, I wish I could remember that, the Joy of My Salvation.  But, instead, I was sort of robbed.

    There were many preachers and evangelists at the church, this week.  They had come for the revival.  And, they all wanted to meet me.  My parents did ask if I would agree to the meeting, for which I did.  But, still, it was a bit intimidating, having to answer to all those giants.

    You see, they didn't believe I was yet at the age of accountability.  They thought I was too young and said that it was almost unheard of.  Their concern was that I wouldn't understand what I was doing.

    I may have only been six years old.  But, they were wrong.

    Then, once mom got saved, her and dad began mission work.  Today, it's called 'church planting' and, of course, laborers were few.  Thus, new converts were often my teachers.  It was the era (error) of Hell, Fire, and Brimstone preaching and that was the only God these new converts knew.

    This was also the age when it was, yet, the common and expected thing to do ~ to go to the altar, seeking forgiveness.  It didn't help to not even have a memory of the Joy of My Salvation.  So, there were times I questioned if I had been saved at all.

    One of our preachers even testified that he had been called to preach, but had not yet done so ~ and that God told him He could even take his children if he didn't agree.

    Thus, my concept of God gradually developed to envision a monster that couldn't wait for me to mess up, so He could hit me over the head.  And, I was sure that is what happened when my marriage turned into an abusive nightmare.

    Truly, there was much deliberation between 'kill or be killed', as there didn't appear to be another out.  To 'take my chances with God' didn't seem to be a viable option.  Only, with death or prison the only other solutions ~ with the support of family and a team of officers, I took a flying leap into the unknown, escaped, and filed for divorce.

    In my training, divorce fit right up there with the unpardonable sin.  Even though he had also been unfaithful, I was more than shocked that God didn't strike me dead.

    There had been no prior training to be anything other than the virtuous woman.  A child had been conceived in rape, which was my only hope of not living my remainder years alone.  Another marriage wasn't within options God allowed, or so I thought.  I hadn't prepared to be the breadwinner.  Really, I thought my life was over ... and I was only 18 years old.

    For three days, I sat in a trance while listening to the record "Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters'.  Only, the song had never been explained to me.  I thought I was that sinking bridge, as I just couldn't be that strength anymore.

    Books on overcoming the effects of abuse had not yet been written.  The only answer I could come up with was this ... if I just did all the right things, I would never have to live like that again.  In such thinking, I began to adopt the lifestyle of legalism.

    Still cold and dead inside, none would be the wiser.  Only, God knows what service is from the heart ... and I didn't have one.  If I didn't feel, no one could ever hurt me like that again.

~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~

    In time, I did remarry and, eventually, a miracle child was conceived ... and I was sure this was the child God would take.

    Labor did not produce birth and, with each contraction, the baby's heart rate diminished.  Hour after hour, doctors deliberated as to whether or not to do a c-section, then still did nothing.  This was the beginning of the new (barbaric) era of natural child birth.

    Only, there was no doubt, death was imminent; mine, the baby's, or both.  Unknown to anything else, mom said she had felt it, too ~ and she was miles away.

    Fully understanding that I deserved for this baby to die, I was prepared to accept it.  But, this was my husband's only biological child and he would not understand why God would do this to him.

    Thus, I asked God to preserve the relationship between Him and my husband.  The baby didn't yet know me.  So, she would not know to suffer my loss, as was my thinking.  I was prepared to go, even if in her place.  Only, I had another child that really needed me and there was no other answer for that.

    All considerations were in love and I was ready to live, die, or whatever God decided.  Maybe that was a good thing, that I had opened my heart to love again.

    Though, once I had finished talking with God, I began to make a scene.  Nurses had said that, if the mother became under stress, the doctors would then act.  So, I behaved very badly (on purpose) and they couldn't get me into surgery fast enough.

    It was then that peace came.  It would be alright, now, whatever that meant.

    Anesthetics kept me asleep for most of the first 24 hours.  Though, between each spurt of alertness, I watched people, carefully, trying to determine if they were telling me the truth.  Finally, I pinned a nurse down and asked, straight forward, "Why won't you bring my baby to me?"

    The nurse promised that, as soon as I could stay awake (so as to not accidentally injury the baby), they would bring her to my room.  Except for being in an incubator the first days, precautionary being that she was so small, all appeared to be well; with no heart problems either.

    Only, a hard year followed.  Baby and I took turns at being ill.  A year later and my strength was, still, at the stage of crawling to get up the stairs.

    Finally, I determined that Satan was never going to allow us health to go to church, again, and I knew just the thing for that.  If neither of us were running a temperature, we were going ~ no matter how bad we looked or felt.

    It was then that things started improving.  Within six months, baby and I were able to attend church regularly and I joined our church choir.

    My piano teacher had, once, taught me how to feel the music when I'd play and I had used those same tools to spiritually go there, to imagine and feel whatever I was singing.

    Then, one day, while participating in the choir, in the middle of a song, God said,  "You know how to feel it.  Now, I want you to see it."

    I thought, "Ok.  But, I have no clue how to do that."

    God said, "Find a spot on the wall and focus.  Envision seeing Jesus."

    "But, all we have are pictures.  I don't know what he looks like."

    "Whatever you envision him to look like will be fine.  Do you see it?"

    ..............................................  "Yes, I see it."

    "What is he doing?"

    "He's suppose to be doing something?  I don't know."

    "Well, look."

    I looked up, at that picture of Jesus, and studied it for a few seconds, to see whatever I might see.  Honestly, I had no idea what I was suppose to be looking for.  But, God had said to look.

    Keep in mind, we were still standing in the choir ~ singing.  Then, suddenly, I noticed Jesus changed from a portrait to a full body image, making him appear farther away.  He was holding something.  But, I couldn't make out what it was.  So, I watched closely.

    Now, keep in mind, I was on live television, in that choir.  I have no idea if I kept singing or not.  But, the image gradually came closer and closer.

    I thought, maybe Jesus was carrying a lamb.  Yes ... it's ... it's a lamb.  Ok.  But, wait.  The image is a little fuzzy.  Something is happening.  It's transforming.  What is it?  I studied carefully ... until ... Oh, no!  Oh, NO!  It was my baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    I do not know if or how I maintained composer.  I must have done ok, being that I didn't get scolded for messing up the televised program.  But, my knees felt so weak that I don't know how I even remained standing.

    Jesus had my baby in his arms and he was giving her back to me.  Tears rolled and flowed, and must have turned into an avalanche.  Jesus, JESUS, ... JESUS had become My Lamb and I will never be the same again!

~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~ ~+~

    My God is not a God of Hell, Fire, and Brimstone.  He is a God of Love.  Love is who He is.

    He has saved us.  He continues to save us.  And, He will save us.  And, now, I have the memory of a true salvation experience.  I pray God grants me the mental capacity to always remember the Joy of My Salvation!

    And, now that I 'know' God's love, I love God enough to live for Him and, through hard times and all, I can be a bridge that won't fall ~ because, the joy of the Lord is my strength.

    Yet, each Christmas, all else aside, one of my favorite places is to return to Bethlehem, to envision caring for God's baby.

    God gave an even greater love than Himself.  He gave His Son.  It's the least we can do, to love him, too.

?© by Joyce C. Lock
http://my.homewithgod.com/blessingsandlessons/

 Let God be true, but every man a liar ... Romans 3:4

He that findeth his life shall lose it:
and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.
Matthew 10:39

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

About the Author

   Having grown up amidst Preachers, Evangelists, Missionaries, Church Planting, etc.:

author Joyce C. Lock, has been actively involved in church work most of her life ...

with a huge variety of church related positions and experiences; still serving the Lord,

full time, in whatever capacity He calls her to next. A homemaker, mother of two,

retired foster parent of twelve, and still a young grandmother of nine ...

she is also a published author, columnist, and poet.

Joyce founded and maintains the e-mail ministries "Heavenly Inspirations"
http://our.homewithgod.com/heavenlyinspirations/heavenlyinspirations-intro.htm,
"Share a Smile" http://our.homewithgod.com/heavenlyinspirations/shareasmile.htm,

and, additionally, offers "Heavenly Inspirations - original writings"
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HeavenlyInspirations-originalwritings/;

a free archived resource of varied inspirational writings (by multiple authors).

Joyce's writings encourage us in our relationship with God and each other.

The enclosed writings may be used in its entirety,

with credits in tact, for non-profit purposes.

 ~**~**~  

A Typical Monday

Dianna Petry

I know that my days can sometimes make even Roseanne look graceful but if I don't vent right now I'm going to explode. This was one of those days that I should have just stayed in bed and kept my head covered up with the blankets.

First of all, the morning started with me waking up right on time which meant that I had time for my morning shower. Oh, how I love that morning shower to start the day. I feel so relaxed and refreshed to begin the daily grind. If I could just find that shampoo the lady in the commercials uses the day would start out perfect every time.

I jumped into the shower, turned the water on and nearly died from the shock of ice water hitting my warm body. Before you say anything, yes, I did turn it on first and there was nice warm water but that didn't last long. I jumped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, grateful that I hadn't had time to put shampoo in my hair.

The towel that I grabbed was hanging right there beside of my shower where I always keep it, yet, it held a surprise for me. Apparently, the little boy that I kept for a couple of hours last night thought that the towel would be the perfect hiding spot for a big wad of chewing gum and naturally, I didn't see it until I had already started wrapping my body with the towel. I know that most males think that obvious nipples are quite sexy but this would have been ridiculous! Have you tried to get sticky gum off of a sensitive area like your nipple without hot water? Stop laughing, it is not funny!

The hot water tank that I had repaired recently finally gave up and died so the warm water that I had managed to use was all that was left in the tank before it died. I now know what the relief valve is for and let me tell you, it is not much of a relief to see that much water running from your utility room through the house and heading towards the living room carpet.

I managed to get the gum off while the boys were screeching at me to hurry up so they wouldn't be late for school. Oh, did I mention that Crystal used my Jeep last night. She did and I'm sure that all of you with children know that they never put gasoline into the vehicles they use.

Yep, just as I made it into town, I ran out of gas. I was still a mile away from the high school and about 1/2 mile from the Junior High. Thankfully, one of my friends saw me pulling off to the side of the road and stopped for Chris and his friend to take them on to school. Kyle was going to walk but someone else stopped and gave him a ride to the school and me a ride to the nearest gas station.

At the gas station, I ended up buying a gasoline can for five dollars that was worth about two dollars. The clerk informed me that I'm lucky that they had them at all since summer is over. I reached into my purse and found that I had all of about 67 cents to my name. Thank goodness I had a debit card or I would still be in there getting my lecture about learning to read the fuel gauges in automobiles from a boy that might be totally potty trained by next month!

I carried the gas can back to the Jeep, switching hands every couple of minutes to keep from having either one of my hands fall off. Gee, two gallons of gasoline is very heavy when you carry it very far.

Anybody have a vehicle with fuel injection? They do not like running out of gasoline. Have you ever tried to prime those things? I sure do miss the old time carburetors, I knew what to do with those.

My cell phone was ringing because I was late to pick up the little girl I get in town. This is from a woman who has never been to work on time in her life but is upset that I'm four minutes late already and "she has a job." I was thinking, "Yes, but you're not going to have your neck when I get there."

Finally, I got the child and headed for home. (I decided that I would have to plot a revenge on the woman. If I broke her neck they would send the police and I would never make it out of jail on time to pick the boys up after school.)

The other two children who should have been waiting for me were not there when I pulled into the driveway. That was most likely a good thing since one of them was the little butt who put the chewing gum in my towel.

Ah, at last I got them all off and the house got quiet. I sat and enjoyed a cup of coffee and a piece of Chris' birthday pie before I headed back to the kitchen to get the dishes done. I relish those moments when there is nothing but peace surrounding me but alas, I had to get things done today.

As I flipped the switch for the kitchen lights to come on, I heard a loud fizz and the lights never got past a very dim partial light. I use flouorescent lighting in my kitchen and apparently, the fixture decided that it was too tired to go on......so it didn't. I had the feeling that I was becoming the repairman's ticket to the Bahamas vacation he has been dreaming about.

I was confident that the rest of the day would get better. After all, it was barely nine o'clock in the morning and I had faced all the crisis' that were going to hit me. (Remind me that it never pays me to think.)

I went on with the day and was determined to smile. This was Chris' actual birthday and I wanted to make sure that he had his birthday dinner and then I planned to take him and a few others to the local Haunted House.

Instead of visiting the Haunted House, we stayed home. You see, as I was preparing dinner, my microwave died too. Then after dinner, while I was trying to clean up the kitchen by candlelight and the light from the adjoining sitting area, my son yelled from upstairs......."MOM! Get up here!"

His VCR had eaten his Child's Play movie that he just received as a birthday gift. Is it okay to have a good cry on your child's birthday if you don't let them see you do it? It may as well be....I've already done it.

I wasn't about to go to the Haunted House......with the luck I'm having, the chainsaws would be real and I would trip over something and survive with only one hand and a dangling left leg........

I have taken the boys to Crystal's house to shower tonight and now we are all ready to call it a night. Tomorrow has to be better.....doesn't it? Please say, yes!

Sometimes it really sucks to be me! I sure do hope that your day was better than mine.

Hugs,

Dianna Doles Petry

Dianna59 @ charter.net

Proud founder of:
Women With A Unique Soul
www.womenwithauniquesoul.com
Proud member of:
Nuttin But Sunshine
www.nuttinbutsunshine.org
Webmaster of Short Stories
http://pages.ivillage.com/dianna40
Webmaster of Poetry From Life
http://www.geocities.com/diannawv/

Poetry Section

                                                 ~**~**~

Your Gift To Me

Dianna Doles Petry

I carry so many burdens each day,

That laboring seems like all I can do.

I'm so tired and weary by the evening,

That I don't have enough time with you.

Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it,

The road always seems to lead uphill.

I dream about leaving the chaos behind,

But I stay and I know I always will.

The gift of friendship that you give me,

Helps to make my load much lighter.

You show me that the road gets shorter,

Help me find the strength to be a fighter.

Suddenly the problems in my life,

Don't really seem to add up to much.

You have helped me through the hard times,

With your kind and gentle touch.

Thank you for always being here for me,

For brushing away tears and lifting my mood.

I have come to need your friendship,

As much as my body needs food.

You calm my fears and make me smile,

You never let me wallow in my tears.

I couldn't make it without you, my friend,

Walking beside of me through the years.

Dianna Doles Petry

?©2004

~**~**~  

____________A Magical Night

Dianna Doles Petry

Dancing around the room together,

Looking into each other's eyes.

It never fails to comfort me,

And always takes me by surprise.

We dance to the slow songs,

Bonding together once again.

The cares of the world fade away,

As we dance together skin-to-skin.

There's a sparkle in your eyes,

That tells me this love will last.

This is a moment to remember,

As the future becomes our past.

You in my arms, me in yours,

Dancing across the empty floor.

I want the moment to last forever,

I want to feel your kiss once more.

Your skin smells so very sweet,

I close my eyes and breath in deep.

Soft kisses on my neck and cheek,

Memories I will forever keep.

Each time our lips come together,

I feel my heartbeat speed up more.

The passion builds and I'm content,

As we slowly dance across the floor.

Dianna Doles Petry

?©2004

~**~**~

Tears At Night

Dianna Doles Petry

I feel the tears begin to flow at night,
When I feel helpless to make things right.
I close my eyes and I begin to pray,
Words won't come, I don't know what to say.

I want to keep my feelings locked inside,
Being strong is just a part of my foolish pride.
I'm afraid to admit that I can bleed,
I want people to believe that I always succeed.

Late at night when I find myself alone,
It's quiet and I can hear each little moan.
I can't take the pain of your age away,
There's no pleasure for you in a brand new day.

I can't tell you how it makes me feel,
'Cause you live in a world that just isn't real.
Sometimes you talk about days from your past,
Then you're on another topic much too fast.

Your body is slowing down more everyday,
I want to help, I just can't find a way.
So the tears begin to flow when I try to sleep,
I wish that youth was something we could keep.

I fear that someday I'll follow the same trail,
Become old and have my body growing frail.
I wonder if you thought about this yourself long ago,
If you did, it's been forgotten so I'll never know.

Tomorrow, I'll wear a smile and sing a song,
I'll pretend that I've been happy all along.
You won't know about the tears that fell,
I've learned to hide my heartache very well.

Dianna Doles Petry

?© 2005

Proud founder of:
Women With A Unique Soul
www.womenwithauniquesoul.com
Webmaster of Short Stories
http://diannapetry.tripod.com
Webmaster of Poetry From Life
http://www.geocities.com/diannawv/
Poems By Dianna
http://members.tripod.com/~poemsbydianna/PoetryofLife.html

Writers Feedback 

THIS WAS SUCH A STORY THAT REALLY TOUCHED ME. I HOPE AND PRAY FOR
SHARLETT THAT HR LIFE MAY BE BLESSED. MARYANN

Smile  God  Loves you.

Sharlett, Your story is well written, moving and a wonderful witness to the power of God's love. You have been very strong to overcome your alcoholic illness. Best wishes, Gabby Morgan.

"My Metaphorical Journey," a great piece Carol. Interesting thoughts, I loved it. Best wishes Gabby Morgan.

Dare To Be Different is a wonderful piece of work written by a very awesome lady. Thank you for adding her to the already wonderful lineup of writers here!

Dianna Doles Petry

Thank you, Carol and Nicole,

This is a great honor for me.

Dianna

Proud founder of:
Women With A Unique Soul
www.womenwithauniquesoul.com
Webmaster of Short Stories
http://diannapetry.tripod.com
Webmaster of Poetry From Life
http://www.geocities.com/diannawv/
Poems By Dianna
http://members.tripod.com/~poemsbydianna/PoetryofLife.html

Sharon, what a beautiful story. Thank you for sharing, my friend.
Joyce

I can really Identify with Joyce's story.

I have been through so much in the last 10 years also.

And I am living in a house that God gave me and its not paid for yet, but God pays the mortgage every month. I don't have a job and haven't had one for the 3 years. I have everything I need and a lot of things I want.

I went to being homeless to living in a beautiful home and be able to bless others because of Gods merciful provision.

www.TheDollarMinistry.org is my ministry. Everyone is required to give at least one dollar to the family that has a need posted.

We have been doing this for 5 years and I know that is why God blesses me so much. God cares for the poor and so do I.

So please pray for me and this ministry, Donation are very slow this time of year and the needs of our people are great.

Just like Joyce, I have learned to keep my eyes on Jesus for everything, Gods word is true, He can never lie to us. So please pray for the above ministry so that God will move His hand to bless us and we minister to the poor.

Thank you God bless you,

Natasha

www.TheDollarMinistry.Org
A non profit organization
Give and it shall be given
back to you.....,

Carol, I appreciate your printing my stories.

What makes me even prouder is that I share your space with such giants as Jaye Lewis, Roger Dean Kiser, Kathy Baker and Kathy Whirity.
Respectfully,
Ron Gold

Can I ask you a Question ??“ Sharon Bryant: This was very touching indeed A wonderful tribute for your son and thoughtful of them

Nat

Dear Sharon,

What a touching account. You're lucky to have such a sensitive and considerate future daughter in law. I hope the wedding goes wonderfully.

Yours aye,
Nick (Bentley)

Sharon can ALWAYS bring tears to my eyes. I don't know if it is because I too have lost children at too young an age, or just her way of writing. But she tugs at my heart strings. GOD BLESS YOU Sharon!

Susan Roberts

Dear Carol,

- Awe Perfect! - Joyce never fails to nudge a corner of my heart with her ideas and writings.

She has given me an idea of how to share my poetry by possibly assembling

it in a frame or etc for a gift of an upcoming birthday or holiday or for whatever

occasion it might be best suited.  Thank you , Joyce, for the idea but mainly

for your reason for writing; To glorify Jesus, our Lord and creator. Norma Liles

I have often thought that in lieu of a sympathy card, a poetic plaque could be nice?

I loved this piece Dare to Be Different - by Cheri C. Carlson!  Oh, does this remind me of me and of a certain friend of mine.

Brilliantly put and so enjoyable to read!

Debra Shiveley


I thoroughly enjoyed this piece (Can I ask you a question ??“ Sharon Bryant).   Very heartwarming to know that a young couple can have such respect and sensitivity.

Debra Shiveley

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

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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)

Prayer Requests

 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;