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

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The Snake And The Torch

Richard Sims

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I am not ashamed to say I don't like snakes, they just need to stay out of my way and I

will stay out of their way too. It doesn't make any difference what kind of a snake it is the

fact is its a snake.

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I worked in Joplin, Mo at a auto salvage, I was a automotive parts dismantler. My job

was to go out into the salvage yard find the lot number and the car or truck number

and take off the part for the customer and bring it back to the front office to the

customer.

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On this day the customer wanted a complete rear end meaning the third member rear end housing and the leaf springs. No problem I would take the yard wrecker and pick up the rear end of the car and hook a safety chain to the frame of the car and lock off the other end on

the boom of the yard wrecker. I would also use the cutting torch to cut off the rusted bolts

and nuts holding the rear end in place under the car.

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I found the area and the car and back up to the back of the car so I could use the winch to

pickup the back end of the car up. I got out of the wrecker? and hooked the winch cable on

the frame of the car and pick it up. Then I hooked in the safety chain and locked it in place

and took the other end and fastened it to the wrecker boom and locked it in place. This

would keep the car from falling on me while I was working pulling the rear end out.

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I got my tools that I would need and looked all around to see if there were any snakes around

I also made a lot of noise hoping to run off the snakes if there was any around; none to

be found or so I thought. I took the drive line loose and then the brake line running to both

back brakes. Next I took the shocks off, all I had to do now was to fire up the cutting torch

and cut the bolts holding the leaf springs to the frame. I cut off the front bolts one on each

side leaving just the two back bolts. This let the front of the rear end down just hanging by? the two back bolts.

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That's when a large copperhead snake coiled up on the back of the frame tried to strike at

me, He missed thank god! This just wasn't his day, I took the still lit torch and my strike? didn't miss setting the snake on fire. Just my luck he crawled back up into the inside of the? car still burning and setting the car on fire. Now I had to act fast before the gas tank went up,? ?  I jumped in the wrecker and pulled the car out of the roll into the lane so not to set anymore cars on fire. Then called for help my boss called the fire department and him and the other workers came up to help.

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My boss ask what happened to start the car on fire, I told him what had happened with the

snake, thinking I was going to have to find another job for this. He laughed and said I would

have done the same thing. Then he told me I still had a job not to worry.

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SNAKE?  vs?  TORCH to this very day the guys I used to work with still ask me if I have burn

up any more cars and?  snakes! It seems like every time I go to Joplin, Mo. I see one of them

I guess they will never let me forget it!

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Richard Sims
armaksman @yahoo.com

About Me:
I am Richard D. Sims of Arma, Kansas, I am
46 Years old. I was born and raised in
Granby, Mo. the oldest mining town in
southwest Mo.
I enjoy writing poems, short stories and
just being able to cheer up people!
My hobbies are 1/4 mile drag racing,
wood crafts and spending quality time with
my family, and serving our lord Father in
heaven.
Richard D. Sims:
armaksman @ yahoo. com

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Today's Queue Stories
~**~**~**~

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THEY ARE LOVED FOREVER

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Robert H. Gilbert, Jr.

When we lose our parents, sisters, brothers, and even grandparents, they leave us with many wonderful memories as they move on through our lives.

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My most wonderful memories are those of my grandparents. Guess it??™s 'cause I could get away with many things with grandpa. That??™s for sure!
But with Granny, she was something else. Granny would scold me when I did something wrong, while grandpa would chuckle in the back ground.
The thing I disliked the most was those black and white stripped coveralls, white shirt, black bowtie, and boy??™s black and white shoes. It seemed every birthday or Christmas, I would get a new set.

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When we went to church on Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, that is what I was dressed in. People may have thought that was the only set of clothes I had to wear. I sure thought so. But, I was only three years old.

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Granny was a 'rummage sale' fanatic. When we went to town, that??™s the first place she would have grandpa take her. The only thing she really looked for was different colored plastic belts for her dresses, or so she says. I never knew why she bought so many, as she had plenty at home.

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As I watched her choose a belt, she would look at me and snap the belt together and smile. "Granny, I??™m a good little boy."

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On any church night, I would get a scrubbing, in the tub, then be dressed in my coveralls. Granny would be wearing a dress with a plastic belt on.

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As soon as we would get out of the car, at church, Granny would grab my hand. Guess she thought I might fall. But, I could walk just fine. Granny would put me on the inside of her as we sat down on a church bench.

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As the congregation said, "Amen," I would, too. When they sang a hymn, I would sing, "Ain't Nothing but a Hound Dog." Granny would scold me ~ like it was suppose to scare me? Give me a break, I??™m only three.

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I finally talked Granny into letting me go sit by grandpa. (He was a deacon in the church.) I could look out and see everyone. I would smile and think, "Hey, ya??™ll look at me." I would look at grandpa??™s Bible and pretended I was reading it, too.

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The preacher began his sermon and, became so intense with his preaching, he would slam his Bible down on the alter. Well, I would grab grandpa??™s Bible and run to the alter, then slam it down, too, and say, "Amen."
Everyone forgot about the preacher, as they were hysterically laughing at me ... all but granny. She??™d come and get me, and we would head toward the front door.

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Outside, she would scold me real bad. I would start crying and yelling out loud. Although that plastic belt did not hurt, I sure was not gonna tell Granny that.

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As we went back in, people turned and look at us. I would be smiling. Those were the days.
When I was old enough to leave town, I always returned (as soon as I could) to see my grandparents. They were always there.

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But, one day, when I came back to town, I realized they were no longer there.

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Through my wonderful memories of them, they will always be there. Whenever I am sad or lonesome (or have no one to talk to), I think of them ... and I am smiling at the world, once more.
?© 2003 by Robert H. Gilbert, Jr.
"mailto:RGBLUEBOY@aol.com"

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ROBERT H. GILBERT, JR
"mailto:RGBLUEBOY @aol.com

About Me:

Once retired from the military, Robert H.
Gilbert, Jr., took on new adventures as a
truck driver and a writer. He says he
started writing in early 1991 and hasn't
stopped yet. When Robert writes
poetry and short stories, he hopes to make
readers feel a part of it. Robert credits
his wife who inspired him to begin sharing
his writings. He says the responses have
been a true blessing.

~**~**~

Jesus at My Door
by Vance Agee

Nearly - I was nearly unable to speak. ???Sure, yes, that would be great.????  And then for a minute or two I could only stand in the back of my classroom and watch, as the student moved desks and picked up bits of paper. He knew that I wanted to straighten up the room. But I could only stand and look.

It had been a hectic day. It had been one of those days during which one questions the wisdom of being a teacher. A day during which one questions whether students care about the efforts made for them. A day of questioning God??™s Will.

But when at first I could only watch and later join in to work with my student, I knew something which many have not known, have not realized when the moment has come. Although beyond my personal human visual spectrum, there was more than just an incredibly kind and thoughtful student in my room.

The woman at the well was told that if she only knew with Whom she was speaking, she could request of Him and have living water! Imagine if Pontius Pilate had known Whom he was judging: the Rex Regum, the King of Kings, the Lord over Caesar Augustus! But I must return to my classroom.

Perhaps two minutes after my last class had left and I had slumped into my negative and doubting frame of mind, this young man had come to my door.

I was in awe: of the student, of the timing, of the power of such a seemingly small event. But I also did realize something of immense importance. There are no accidents. That student came of his own accord to help me, but he had not come alone. Yes, I thanked him.

But the Spirit of the Living God and His Son was within and with this student.

I felt Him.

Jesus had been at my door.

Vance G. Agee

vgagee @adelphia.net
About Me:

I was born in Buffalo, New York, a few
decades ago. I was a lonely only child.
However, my mom read to me: the KJV Bible
cover to cover, Pilgrim's Progress, and
numerous books. Between four and eight
years old, I lived at

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~**~**~

From Maria Doherty

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The Role of Laugher In One??™s Life

The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.
e e.Cummings (1894 - 1962)


This issue is dedicated to my Aunt Mary Murphy who lived a life which was rich and full although she never grew up, never married and never got to leave home. Within the confines of a body and a mind that we would consider severely challenged, she made her presence felt in many lives, including mine. She found speaking a great struggle but she made herself understood very clearly. She brought lessons in life and love that I will never forget and which have seen me through some tough situations. Mary's whole body shook when she laughed and she had a very well developed sense of fun and mischief. There was no problem so big that it could not be solved with a cup of tea and a good film. So Mary, today I write about one of the life lessons I learned from you and I raise my tea cup to you in
thanks.

Is that an answering laugh and the clink of your own celestial tea cup hitting your saucer?

Thank you for the privilege of sharing your life with me.

================================================
Today I feel laughter rising up inside me like the bubbles in a glass of champagne, waiting to spill over into the world. I feel full of delighted anticipation; like a child waiting for Christmas, a state I found myself in a great deal over the last few weeks. I have just completed 15 continuous days of NLP Master Practitioner training. Our work on the course was intense as we absorbed a mass of knowledge, practiced therapeutic interventions with one another and learned so much about ourselves and our colleagues. Most of all we played together; we had so much fun. Anyone walking by our room would have wondered if we were listening to a very funny comedian because there was so much laughter. And ....
it helped us to learn, shook away the anxieties that come with new challenges and broke down barriers within self and between participants. When we were opening ourselves up to face emotions we had buried, the laughter gave us healing. We shook off the lingering attachments to those emotions as we played both in and between our therapeutic sessions.
When we stood up to make our presentations, we clowned around to break the tension of facing an audience and fear
dissipated. We were all asked to deliver in a new way that stretched us out of our normal patterns. I delivered my final summation in a song and dance routine, the words delivered in rap spontaneously created as I went along. Laughter took me out of my inhibitions and into a far more creative place.
There is a saying that laughter is the best medicine and although it may not cure, it certainly shifts perspective
and a positive mind is indeed a healer. Life is filled with choice and the most important choice we have each day is the state of mind we will face it with. Humour, laughter, fun and play all facilitate a "change of mind", a shift in state. Have you ever laughed until you cried? Have you ever cried so much that you just had to laugh and ended up in a fit of the giggles? Have you experienced what it is to let go of pent up emotion with a good "belly laugh" that comes straight up from your solar plexus and explodes out into the world, taking those trapped feelings with it?
I vividly remember attending my aunt Mary's funeral - I ought to as I organized it, a first for that particular
service! My aunt was pretty severely disabled, both physically and mentally. She had lived with my mother, her
sister, and my family since the death of my grandmother when I was sixteen. With eight boys and two girls in our family,one more did not seem to make a difference; Mary just blended in with the mob!

As Mary aged, she became increasingly frail, and after a series of mild strokes, there came the big one. My mother was in hospital when Mary died so I took over the arrangements, informed relatives, consulted them about the service, registered the death and delayed the funeral until Mum and relatives from abroad could get there. I was so busy with all of this, that I had no time to check in on my own emotions. Then the day came and we all gathered at our local church for the ceremonial farewell. I got up to the pulpit for one of the readings, and the flood gates opened. I barely got through, with one of my uncles hovering at my side ready to take over. Back in my seat, I cried until there were no more tears.

So what has this to do with play or even laughter? At the
reception, all the cousins who rarely saw one another, gathered together, and we told story after story about
Mary's life. All the little peculiarities, all the strange
things she would say and do, all the little habits such as hiding her sweets under a cushion and sneaking one out when she thought no one was looking; her phenomenal memory for the names of every film star who ever graced the television screen; the sudden playful pinches we were all routinely surprised with as we passed her chair; the crippling stammer which disappeared when she got angry and swore; I learned a lot of colourful language from my maiden aunt Mary. In a few minutes, we were doubled up with laughter, filled with gratitude for the fun she had brought into our lives, filled with a gentle love that washed away the grief. I never felt the need to cry for her loss after that; the laughter had taken my sadness away and I could feel joy in Mary's freedom.

So enough about me and my tribe! What do you do to lighten up those dark days? When was the last time you got on the
floor and played at being a lion with a small child or even
a much bigger child? What were the books that made you laugh in the past and isn't it time to revisit them? What comedian has you rolling about until your ribs want to escape the pressure of your laughter? What sitcom brightens your day? Who is the person in your life that you can rely on to bring fun and humour? My husband is mine - I always tell people I married him because he makes me laugh, something that used to be a very difficult job, but that's a story for another day.
We all have choices. We can live lives of quiet or even noisy misery - quiet is better because you don't infect other people. We can live lives of gentle humour or even infectious laughter? Would you prefer to be contagious with misery or with humour? I know what my choice is.

What is your choice?

What role does laughter, fun and play have in your life?

How can you enhance it?

Laugh and the world laughs too.


Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.
Abraham Lincoln (1809 - 1865)


Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from
an event, deal with it and then move on.
Bob Newhart (1929- )

If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane.
Jimmy Buffet

The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is
laughter.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

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Maria Doherty

mariadoherty@blueyonder.co.uk 

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Writers Feedback

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? I had such feelings that are illegal in the state of Florida while reading Kay Seefeldt's story, Beyond Cruelty.? There really are no words for what I think about what they? did to that poor animal.?  What sort of cruelty have those kids witnessed to have that sort of thing in their minds.?  Brings about my favorite question, "What is this world coming to?"?  How low can our society get before something happens to bring a change.?  Blessings, Sharlett Hunt

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To Donna From Dianna: Nope, don't ever let yourself grow old, would be my reply. Live life and
don't give up until you can't take another step!

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I too with Dianna?  (Candlelight) wonder what to do with myself at the age of 59............do i give in and become old or what do i do????????DKB

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Kathleen Baker's poem "The Locker" is a keeper.? ?  Her story "March?  Madness" is wonderful too.?  -Kay

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SENIOR WRITERS

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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;

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STORYTIME TAPESTRY STAFF

Publisher: Carol Roach-founder

Moderator: Thelma Hartselle-co founder

Moderator: Clara Westerfer

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