STORYTIME TAPESTRY

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

June 27, 2005  

Announcing another new writer today for Storytime Tapestry, Rosemary McKenzie-Ferguson is writer #220.  She tells us all about Joey Magpie from the land down under. Give her the usual warm Storytime Family welcome!

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

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

Are you a good Joey Magpie?

Rosemary McKenzie-Ferguson

Many years ago my Grandmother rescued a fledgling magpie from the base of a tree, on inspection she discovered that the tiny bird had a broken wing, thus he would never fly. 

I remember Joey Magpie well for in spite of his obvious handicap Joey was a very ???happy??? bird, -at least he seemed happy, though just how it is possible to measure the happiness of a bird is hard to tell.

Every dawn Joey Magpie would warble the beautiful magpie chorus along with the all the other magpies in the area.

He had a keen eye for the insects and worms as he went about his daily task of enjoying his food.

Because of Joey Magpie could not fly, he did learn to do other things.  Joey Magpie learnt to climb, with the help of my uncle who put climbing structures around my Grandmother??™s yard; Joey Magpie could at least for a while feel the wind in his face.

Joey only ever learnt to climb up, so for a while it meant some one had to rescue him when he wanted to get down.  Then one day Joey simply launched himself and clumsily fluttered back down to earth.  The landings were never elegant, but they served Joey Magpie well.  Joey Magpie just went about his daily tasks as if he knew he did have a very important life to live.

Joey Magpie never quite understood the full concept of being a bird.  He could be found curled up sleeping with the cat, or walking with the dog.  He could climb up to the kitchen sink to help prepare the meals or make a cup of tea.  One of my most favorite memories of Joey Magpie was seeing him hold the tea strainer over the cup whilst my Grandmother poured the hot tea, first into her cup, then into a saucer for his cup of tea. 

It would be safe to say that Joey Magpie was very much a social bird, who thoroughly enjoyed his life and never once accepted that he had a handicap.

Joey Magpie also had another talent that caused a few concerns but it also endeared him to those who got to know him.

Joey Magpie learnt to be a very good mimic of sounds.  The milkman had a particular cough, which the bird could replicate easily. 

Joey Magpie could sneeze as my Grandmother did.

There was also a sound that was almost the same as a new kitten.

My Grandmother lived close by a busy railway yard.  Back then the goods trains were a regular part of the day.  There were a large number of people employed in the yard, from the StationMaster down to yard hands.

Goods trains would come in, there would be a lot of shunting to remove rail trucks, or add railway trucks.

This meant a lot of signals that were whistled by the porters to the train driver.

As I have already told you, Joey Magpie was a good mimic.

After a short period Joey Magpie learnt the various sounds and signals of the railway yard. 

At first Joey Magpie was happy to just be a part of the busy day in the railway yard.

Then one day it happened.

The train driver heard the ???all clear??? whistle, given the amount of time the train had been in the station, the train driver simply started to leave the yard.

Only problem was the train had not been resembled.

It was not the porter who had signaled all clear it was Joey Magpie.

Fortunately the driver realized that his load was a lot easier to move than it should be, so he was able to pull up easily.  He looked out the train window to see a lot of the railway yard running after the train.

My Grandmother was summoned to the Railway Station.

The StationMaster was very angry, as was the train driver, and also the train guard.

The senior porter understood the situation and how important Joey Magpie was to all that knew him.

So it was agreed that day by all that train drivers should not just listen for the whistle, but check for the semaphore flags.

My Grandmother agreed to when possible keep Joey Magpie in the house when trains were being shunted, as she did understand just how dangerous it was to have Joey Magpie whistling signals in the rail yard. 

But no one ever said that Joey Magpie could not return to the rail yard, as he was such an important part of the life of all he touched.

His happy disposition and willingness to just be a part of everything in his life.

Joey Magpie lived for just over 5 years, until one of his elegant crash landings did not go as it should, and sadly Joey Magpie spilt open his chest.  Even then he did fight back, but sadly lost the fight to live.

Back to my opening question, are you a good Joey Magpie?

No one ever told Joey Magpie that he was handicapped or that he should be miserable with his lot in life.

He just lived his short life at full capacity. Joey Magpie learnt all that he could learn, he challenged himself every day to do more, achieve more and be more.

And because of his very evident courage, people responded to him with love and encouragement. 

I ask that you look at yourself, look inside and see if you really are being the best Joey Magpie you can be singing your own beautiful life chorus every day?

Or are you still sitting at the base of the tree with a broken wing, waiting, resenting, and watching your life pass you by?

?“ Rosemary McKenzie-Ferguson 2005

wirc@bold.net.au

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

 Introduction

 When I was a small child, both my parents worked.  I spent my days with
my
maternal grandmother.  Grandma was a
wise woman and knew that ordinary chores might become boring.  Each time
we needed to go pay bills or the grocer,
Grandma referred to it as an adventure.
I was forever on the lookout for something
to turn our trip into an exciting adventure.

 
Our Drugstore Adventure
by Clara Wersterfer


 
Grandma walked out on the porch and looked at the old thermometer nailed
to the side of the house. She said, "It's 72 already at 8 in the
morning. Goin' to be a hot day. If we are going to town, we best be
gettin' ready. Now you better wear your sandals 'cause the pavement will
be hot, and wear your straw hat or you will get sunburned." I did as I
was told, and we were ready to go in jig time.
We had to go to the Carolina Power and Light Company to pay the light
bill. Grandma always called it the "light bill" because that was the
only thing in the house that was electrical, other than the table top
radio and the washing machine. She still lit a lamp some at night to
save on the bill. She liked the electric light for sewing or reading the
Bible, but just for talking, the kerosene lamp was good enough.
After we paid the bill, we walked around the corner to F. W. Woolworth
on
Haywood Street.
 Grandma needed some buttons and hairpins. While Grandma checked out the
piece goods, or cloth, to make herself a new dress to wear to church, I
looked at the toys, books, and paper dolls. She didn't find just what
she wanted this time and decided to wait. We lingered a while as the
store was nice and cool, and window shopped from the inside.
About halfway home on our 4 mile trip, Grandma said, "Let's stop at Doc
Grove's drugstore and get some ice cream." She didn't have to say it
twice! I was ready for it. The drugstore was near our home, and I loved
going there. The druggist and his wife who ran it, lived in an apartment
behind the drug store. They were open long hours. If someone got sick
late at night, you just rang the bell and the "Doc" as he was called,
came to the door in his nightclothes to dispense medicine or give advice
to a new mother whose baby had colic for the first time.  Maybe an older
person was worried about his wife, who had a stroke the week before, and
needed reassuring that she would be all right. Whatever the cause for
the visit, the "Doc" always took time to help.
I loved the smell of the drugstore with its high, wooden paddle ceiling
fans, turning lazily, creating a lovely cooling downdraft. The floors
were green and white squares of marble and made a noise when you walked.
This was truly a drug store in those days. The shelves was filled with
Cardui for Women, Castor Oil, Fletcher's Castoria, Vicks Vaporub,
Camphorated oil, St. Joseph's Aspirin, Black Draught and Mustard
Plasters, to name a few things.
Not a magazine in sight! There was a picture of a pretty girl with a
tray of Coca Cola and another picture of a mother holding a baby and
offering a spoon of Vicks Cough Syrup. On the back wall was a small,
enclosed space with an open window where Doc Groves filled
prescriptions. The shelves were lined with bottles and jars of all sizes
for the medicines.
When we got inside Grandma wanted to sit at the little round wrought
iron table with the marble top and two chairs. Usually, we sat at the
counter with stools. Grandma had decided to have vanilla ice cream in a
dish. We both knew I'd choose a chocolate cone. I felt like I got more
for the money with a cone to eat, and I just loved licking the drips off
the cone. First on one side and then on the other. Sometimes the drips
ran onto my fingers, and I licked those off too. It lasted a lot longer
that way, and this was a treat I didn't get very often. Making it last
was the name of the game.
Grandma stepped up to the counter to order from Mrs. Grove and find out
all the news as to who was sick and who was getting better. While they
were visiting, I did my usual "looking around."
Grandma came back with the ice cream that I knew she had paid for with
money she kept in a little sack pinned inside her dress. Hesitant to
leave, we ate our ice cream as slowly as possible to stay in the cool
drug store and out of the heat. At last Grandma bid Mrs. Grove a good
day, and we departed.
The rest of the walk home, though hot, did not seem very far with the
wonderful taste of chocolate ice cream lingering on my tongue.
When we arrived home, I was thirsty. The glass of water I drank removed
the last trace of the chocolate cone and ended another of our
adventures.
?© Jan 2005

Clara Westerfer

CBWEST @webtv.net

About me
Born in the mountains of NC, I learned to love story telling at a young
age. For the past 36 years, I have lived in Texas. Three dogs, numerous cats and
other critters share my home.

  ~**~**~

A Miracle Name Nathaniel

Sharlette Hunt 

I had made a doctor's appointment as I knew something was not quite right with me physically.  I had cervical problems before and thought that might be what it was this time.  Or I could be pregnant.  Heaven forgive me but I almost hoped it was a tumor.  I already had two babies, a daughter, Tiffany, not quite two yet and a son, Dana, not quite one.  They were born one year and five days apart and now I had to face the fact that I might be pregnant again.

  Upon completing his exam, the doctor asked me to get dressed and wait in his office, which I did.  When he entered, I tried to read his expression, but couldn't.  I held my breath.  He sat down across from me and said, "Mrs. Hunt, you are pregnant." Tears stung my eyes as I explained to him the reasons why I just couldn't be having another baby, not now.  I had to work everyday to feed the two I already had and another one was out of the question.  David, my Viet Nam veteran husband and I had problems and he had just left us to go back to his home in Indiana and I was already at my wits end.  With no husband and my small income I was already stressed to my limit.

  Well, it finally occurred to me that it was inevitable that I was to give birth to a third child within a 2 1/2 year time period.  I accepted that fact.  The only problem is that I became obsessed with the fact that the baby would be a little girl.  This way, I reasoned, it would be easier.  My daughter, Tiffany, was already showing signs of being very intelligent, with a maturity that belied her two years.  My sweet son, Dana, was a good baby but I was thinking ahead to the competitiveness of two brothers.  In my mind, at that time, a baby girl was just what I needed and I would try to make the best of this situation. (This was over thirty years ago and we had no way of knowing the sex of an unborn child at that time.)

  I was so set on having a daughter that I started making some of my baby clothes, all pink and other dainty colors with flowers and teddies and such.  One of my friends donated a lot of little girlie clothes that had been her daughter's.  I was too broke to buy a bassinet so I made one from a sturdy box I covered with lovely  white lace from an old fancy petticoat.  I would be ready to welcome my little girl.

  I decided to call my husband and inform him that he was going to be a daddy again and asked him if he wanted to come back down to Florida and help with his growing family.  He accepted and I breathed a sigh of relief as it would help a lot to have him here with us.  Our reconciliation was short lived but he stayed long enough to see me through with the baby.

  The months wore on and I continued getting bigger and bigger as the little life inside me continued to grow.  This was a very active baby and not an easy pregnancy.  I was sick daily and still knew I had to work, though David was working now so our income was increased and I had some help at home.

  One day when I was about seven months pregnant and large as a house, I decided to take the kids and go visit my dad across town.  As I was driving along, I felt this child was doing calisthenics inside me and without even thinking, I patted my tummy and said, " Nathanial, stop that!"  I immediately realized what I had said and had no idea where the name Nathanial came from.  I knew nobody by that name.  All these months it had never occurred to me that the baby just might be a boy. 

  I really didn't give it much thought again for the next couple of months until early on a hot June morning when Nathanial David Hunt was born.  He was the sweetest baby that God ever created!  He hardly ever cried, though  he might now when he realizes he had to wear pink clothes as a baby.

  Although he wasn't what I expected him to be, he truly has been a "gift of God", which is the meaning of the name Nathanial.  I realize it was God that day making me realize that I wasn't having a daughter, He had ordered the miracle and it was a son. 

Sharlett Hunt
Sharlette863 @aol.com


About Me:

I was born in Alabama, the middle of
seven children. At about age four we moved
to Central Florida and I have lived here
most of my life. I am a Viet Nam Era
Veteran. I have always enjoyed writing
and as I get older it seems to come more
naturally to me. I believe
everyone has many stories inside them and
some are blessed to be able to share them.

~**~**~

 ?©Ode To The, ???Good Ol??™ Girls?????¦

Barbara Weymouth

Now we??™ve all heard about the, ???Good Ol??™ Boys???, but for as long as I??™ve been on God??™s green earth, I can??™t remember ever hearing much about the, ???Good Ol??™ Girls???.  Consequently, I??™m writing this as an ode to the, ???Good Ol??™ Girls??? who have come before me and will follow after I??™m gone.

We have raised our children, drove them to pre-school and on to Kindergarten, Middle School, High School and then went to school ourselves.

We have Kept our homes and had careers outside of our homes, we have grocery shopped, cooked meals, washed clothes, folded them and put them away.

We??™ve vacuumed, mopped, shopped till we dropped, dusted, scrubbed, wiped runny noses, changed diapers, got up for 2 A.M. feedings, held our babies while the doctor gave them their shots and kissed their little tears away. 

We??™ve walked the floor holding sick, colicky or teething babies and then walked the floor again a few years later for a troubled teen.  We held onto our own standards with both hands and feet, took our children to church and taught them how to pray, sewed on buttons, patched torn pant legs, wiped tears, mended broken hearts and skinned knees with a simple kiss and a hug.

We??™ve shown up for all the Little League games and volunteered in the snack bar areas, picked up and drove the other kids too.  We volunteered as room mothers, and helped drive a classroom of students on a Saturday morning fieldtrip when there was no other way for them to go.

We??™ve coached, chauffeured, encouraged, and were true athletic supporters.  We have baked cookies, cupcakes, and ran to the store for napkins and paper plates; after working all day; when a note came home with a, ???call for help??? from their classroom teachers.

We??™ve read to our children, listened while they read to us and listened as they said their prayers, we kissed them goodnight and tucked them into their nice warm beds.

We??™ve coached and helped them take their first steps, and were as proud as if they had just won a gold medal at the Olympics.  These kids were always our, ALL-STARS!  Some of us did these things with or without the love, help or support of a husband!

???Good Ol??™ Girls???, who shed tears when our children went off to school for the first time, grew up, graduated, moved out, found their places in the world and then said, ???I, Do???.  We shed more tears of joy when our first grandchild was born and more tears of joy when the next ones came too.  We are still the listening ears for our now grown children and mentors and counselors for our grandchildren.

Now I know there are many other things I haven't listed here, but we all know what they are.  The unspoken things that we, "Good Ol' Girls" keep tucked deeply away in the recesses of our hearts.

Yes, we are the, ???Good Ol??™ Girls??? the ones in the background who never seem to get quite the same press as the, ???Good Ol??™ Boys???.  Yet I wonder where they would be today without us, ???The Good Ol??™ Girls????  I know one thing, I??™m proud to claim the title of  ???A Good Ol??™ Girl??? for there??™s no finer title I shall ever attain!

Somewhere in the distance it seems I can faintly here the echoes of the words, "Thank You" for a job well done....!

My name is Barbara J. Ervin-Weymouth; I was born and raised and still reside in the beautiful state of California, USA.  I am a Christian and a proud mother of one son, Eric who is married to my daughter-in-law Dawn, together they have given me two beautiful gifts from God, I call my grandchildren. 

I have one very spoiled Staffordshire Terrier, Rosie, who doesn't know she's a dog, shhh!  I have worked in public education for 26 years.  After 22 of them I decided to become an Adult Education Teacher.  It has been the realization of a life long dream. I have been substitute teaching for the past five years.  I??™m still praying for a classroom and students of my own.  I am truly blessed beyond measure. 

In my spare time I enjoy writing true-life short stories and poetry and trying my hand at webpage design:  Short stories and poems: http://snicklefritzmuffins.tripod.com/

Email:  Weymouth@cwnet.com

I am published on the following E-Sites:

Storytime Tapestry

Starfish (ripplemaker.com)

SFPNN

Hearts With Soul

Pearlsoup.com

Women With Heart

Poetry.com

http://skywriting.net/