STORYTIME TAPESTRY

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

July 27, 2005 

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

Warning: You will need to get out the tissues for this story.

Remembering Seiko

By Bob Shaw

    Some of you might remember Seiko, the little watchdog. We received word a few weeks ago the Seiko had passed away. As near as we could tell, she was around seventeen years old, maybe a bit more. Still, pretty advanced for a little Sheltie.

    John said her hearing was gone, so the storms didn't bother her much anymore. Her eyesight was weak, but she was still the top dog. What teeth she had left, she could still snap them and get her point across. It was starting to get late, and her and Muffin were laying quietly in a corner. They touched noses for a moment, and she went to the front door to be let out. John let her out, while Muffin stayed in his corner. About a half hour later, John went to check on her, but she was no where in sight.

    He went back to put his shoes on, but Muffin didn't offer to go with him. John thought it was odd, because Muffin ALWAYS went out with him. It was like he knew. John looked around the yard calling, but found no sign of her. About an hour later, John went out on the front porch and found her, laying on her side by the door. It looked like she just went to sleep. He reached down to touch her, and knew she was gone.

    Michael, John and Judy's son was out of town that weekend, and wasn't due back until the next day. Every time Michael came in from work, Seiko met him at the door, her tail wagging her whole body, and he'd say "where's my Woo", and she'd wag even harder. He'd sit down in the chair by the TV, and she'd reach her little foot up to touch his pant leg to be picked up and loved. And she was always there to see him off at the door.

    When he came in late that next morning, Mike could see from the look on his Mom and Dad's face that something was wrong. When they told him Seiko was gone, he just hung his head and asked where she had been put, and said he'd take care of her. John walked out to the back with him, and together, they picked out a spot, and Mike prepared the place for her. And yes, big guys cry too.

    Sometimes it's almost too hard to let go of a special friend, one that's always been there, through the good times and the bad. A friend that would listen to every word, share every tear, and through it all, would let you know you were the best friend they could ever have. A friend that would give total and unconditional love, and ask only to be with you in return.

    Time passes quickly on the other side. Some day, a little Sheltie named Seiko will look up and see a familiar shadow cross a Bridge and stand under a Rainbow. He'll look around and quietly say "where's my Woo". And she'll run to those big loving hands that she loved so much

Written by Bob Shaw CapeRabbit@semo.net

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

Focus on Home

Jan Verhoeff

I live in a neighborhood of front porches and fences. 

Although not all my neighbors are blessed with a front porch, most of us have the privilege of having a wide yard, and a place to sit in our front yards.  As summer comes, I find the neighbors often chattering over their fences, working in the yard, waving broadly as I drive by or walk past.  Many of those neighbors have supplied cuttings for my yard, and I've shared cuttings for theirs.  It's a tradition to give away the flowers as we thin them out of our gardens. 

Some of my neighbors I hesitate to call friends, because of the lives they've chosen. Others join us for holiday dinners, summer picnics, and block parties bringing music, food, laughter and fun.  Many of us have shared the losses of family members, suffered through natural disasters together, and survived neighborhood disagreements. However, I know most of them by name and would quickly come to help any or all of them if they were injured or in need.  And, I'm certain they would return the favor.

Over the fence I chattered with one neighbor last week, who mentioned how long he'd been there, watching my children grow.  I smiled remembering that I had been his wife's mentor in a grammar school program for younger children more than 30 years before.  We laughed about the antics of my young sons as they play in the yard, ride bikes in the street, or shoot hoops in another neighbor's drive.  He told me how proud he is of my older daughter and her achievements (she's graduating from college soon).  He even mentioned that he misses seeing her show up laughing after work in the evening with a little brother attached to each leg as she attempted to walk to the house hugging them both. 

In a voice filled with admiration, I heard him say how he admires her drive and spirit, and yet how he just doesn't have that drive.  He's comfortable with his lot in life, a nice small home, a vehicle that runs, and hard work to do every day.  It reminded me that it takes all of us to keep this world going.  Each community has its worker bees that toil long hours to provide for the multitudes, and those who manage, arrange, and make decisions.  Each of us is important to our community.  We all have had an impact on our world.

Today, I think I'll take a walk around the community with my children and think about the impact I've had on my world.  I know there will be neighbors who wave and speak, who knew me as a child, who know me now, who still call out a happy hello and offer a friendly smile.  They have all impacted my life.

I wonder what opportunity today will bring for me to have a greater impact in the lives of others?

Blessings,

Jan

http://www.prepaidlegal.com/go/janverhoeff

Visit my weblogs at http://writeurthoughts.blogspot.com and http://coffeeclatter.blogspot.com

Make it a happy day - Blessings.

~**~**~ 

THE OLD FILE BOX

Sharon Bryant

Tucked away in an old metal file box I bought back in the early 60's are many letters I've saved through the years.  Recently I had a day off from work and dug the old box out, opened it, and took a trip down memory lane.

I smiled as I noticed the dates on the postmarks.  Some were 1956, '58, '60, '63, '64.

Many were dated 1967.  Those are the ones I remember the most.  Those were the ones that guided my life during a rough time.  They were from my grandmother, mother, and father.  But most came from my grandma.  It was the year I married and moved far away from my family.

Beautiful handwriting for a woman her age, I marveled at how perfect grandma's handwriting was.  I laughed at things she told me in those letters.  But most of all, I tucked away in my memory bank the menu's she sent every week when I was more than 1,000 miles away from home.  Tucked away on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, living in a Naval town, alone, no friends, those letters kept my sanity.  Yet they taught me so much.

How well I recall the first meal I cooked as a new bride in '67.  With my .99 cent pot I purchased just a month before, and a few dollars to run to the base for some groceries, I bought two large potatoes and a small piece of beef.  I thought that old naval apartment smelled scrumptious as the aroma of garlic and onions drifted out the old wooden window.

I made a salad, and finally, it was time to take the potatoes out and get ready for hubby to get home from the base.   Wrong.

The potatoes had been in the oven for over an hour and they were still as hard as a rock.

No microwaves in those days, no fast way to make a hard potato soft, we ate dinner that night without potatoes.  I sat down and wrote a letter to gram that night asking her what in the world went wrong with my baked potatoes.

Three days later I received the reply.  Sea level.  Something I did not think about, nor even knew about.  But I learned from that letter, living in Norfolk, I better bake my potatoes for two hours instead of one.

I turned the page of that old letter and saw "Homemade Chop Suey."  Yum, one of my favorites.  And Salisbury steak, another favorite.  I leafed through menu's of homemade spaghetti sauces, gravies, different ways to fix potatoes.  And I'm positive I've got at least 100 ways to fix hamburger!

Every week a letter arrived with a seven-day menu.  And believe it or not, that's how I learned how to cook.  I never measured anything.  I "pinched" and "dabbed" my seasonings as the menus called for.  I learned to create meals that surprised even me!

I opened another letter......from dad.  We know how dad's are, always worrying about their daughters.  He wanted to know if I had enough money, were we getting by ok, call home collect if I needed anything.  Tears sprang to my eyes knowing how much my dad loved me, and I him.

Letters from mom telling me how my kid brothers and sister were doing.  And naturally, always ending with "If you need ANYTHING, call home."

I sat there on the floor reading those old letters, my mind going back to over 35 years ago.  The days before I became a mom.  The days before a war changed this country.  The days before tragedy struck my life.

I put all the letters back in the box, and wiped my eyes.  I no longer have mom or grandma here to write me letters.  Once in a while, I still receive a letter from dad who will be 85 this October.  And still, he ends all his letters with, "If you ever need anything......call me."

The metal box is sitting back in the closet.  I know if I ever need to recapture wonderful memories, all I need to do is lift that little metal clasp and I can take a walk down memory lane.  I wouldn't take anything for the contents of that box.  It holds my life, my youth, my family and a whole lot of love.

Sharon Bryant

1946 @bellsouth.net

About Me:

 I am Sharon Bryant, 59 years old and reside in Alabama.

I lost my child in 1977 when he was five and I write
articles on bereavement often.

I am a chocolate/candy maker and also a wood crafter and knitter.

I am married to a wonderful man, and have two remaining children, a daughter 25,
Amy, and a second son, Randy, age 22.

My main goal in life is to help those who
have lost a child. My website is: www.angelsremembered.tk

Poetry Section

~**~**~

Here It Is!

Debra Shiveley 

Got a request,

The other day,

For, at best,

A poem to say,

Something deep

Or interesting,

But couldn't think

Of a single thing!

D.E. Shiveley Copyright 1978

Merribuck @aol.com

~**~**~

The Farmer

Debra Shiveley

The farmer plows his field.

The horse, panting, sweating,

fights the hard dirt - stubborn dirt,

full of obstacles and set-backs.

Foot over foot, dirt over dirt - onward.

The wooden plow digs in and makes a small path -

gaping - waiting for the seeds -

ready for their parody of growth,

of life.

The farmer's face is stoic and he coughs.

I am the farmer.

D. E. Shiveley Copyright 1978

Merribuck @aol.com

~**~**~

Wonderlust

Debra Shiveley

 Far beneath the wonderlust,

Sleeping, sleeping, 'neath the dust,

Lies a maiden - sweet and fair,

Resting in the lion's lair.

Screaming, screaming, fight she must,

Fight to free the wonderlust.

Fight she must, and victory win.

Death's first stage, for her, begins.

D. E. Shiveley Copyright 1978

D. E. Shiveley
Merribuck @aol.com

About Me:

Hello, my name is Debra Welch.  I'm 52 and the very proud mother of a soon-to-be 13 year old son named Christopher.

Christopher is adopted, so I have some writings on the subject, and he was born with a moderately severe unilateral clefting of the lip, gums and hard and soft palates.  He is beautiful!  Chris also has learning differences: ADD, Dysgraphia, and Executive Function and Working Memory Deficit.  He is the joy of our lives.

I have been writing since age nine.  My father came to visit and plopped down a pad of paper and a pencil.  "Write me a poem," he said "and call it 'Poetry Problems.'"  This is when I learned that my father and great grandfather both wrote poetry.  I was being tested.

I have just finished co-authoring a novel with my cousin titled "Jesus Gandhi Jetta Mae Adams," a murder mystery set in Columbus, Ohio and am starting my second novel.

~**~**~

Writers Feedback

I am just tickled pink for you!!!!  By the way, loved your story about discrimination.  Way too prevalent everywhere, though some have changed.  I was born in the south US and my dad was always prejudiced,  though thank God, it didn't rub off on me.  Funny thing is, he now has a mixed grand child, a little girl, and is changing his mind slowly.  Lots of blacks are also prejudiced here.  Hard to change many years of hatred but I like to think that my kids were taught to love all and treat everyone respectfully, to look inside not out. 

What an awakening for me, Carol.  I would have never thought there was such an attitude of racism in Canada.  America, yes!  Canada, no! When will people stop looking at the color of skin as a look at the soul of a person?

Barb

Dear Carol,

What a great article about racism.  You are a wonderful writer, Carol. Jeannie, LookingUpMagazine

Announcements

Hello everyone,

Tuesday, July 26, 8 pm est I will be the guest on Pastor Daniel John's program discussing my book "No Beauty in the Beast...Israel Without Her Mascara" as well as other pertinent items relating to the MIddle East and the Scourge upon humanity known as Zionism. The program can be accessed at the followinglink.

www.Live365.com/stations/reaamerica?site=reaamerica

Hope to see you there

Mark

 I received an email from a Sgt. in Iraq.  There are over 400 soldiers in this unit, including 30 females.

My thanks to anyone who helped with a donation to get these boxes out.  I will share with you the reply I receive after the boxes have arrived.

The Sgt. told me it's 130 degrees in daytime over there and 95 degrees at night, and yes, they can use wet wipes, so I'm sending all the wet wipes out on this load plus the food items I have ready to go.

Will keep you posted and will be taking photos for anyone who cares to see the boxes going out.

Sharon

Prayer Requests and Updates

Today was another scary day, four of Rosie's sutures came loose in the deepest part of her wound.  so off we went for another trip to the emergency vet clinic for 3 to 4 hours.  The vet said there was proud flesh that gave way and wouldn't hold the stitches.  So she's all bandaged up again this time a red bandage (her first one was green).  She was terrified and had to be sedated to clean the wound and dress it up securely again.  I will never forget the look of terror in her eyes as they took her to the back, I went back with her and she tried to climb up my leg...  *ouch*.... 

The doc says she may need skin grafts as there just isn't much skin due to the severe wound.  I will see what  Dr. Case thinks, before I make that decision.  I of course will do whatever is necessary to get her leg healed up.  So it's drugs, drugs and more drugs for Miss Rosie, so this leg can heal.

She was still sedated when I brought her home, I had to carry her up the stairs as she fell over trying to go potty in the yard.  She's no light weight so my back is really hurting tonight.

I feel like I need drugs too, or Margarita's IV.....  or six months in the funny farm...  LOL

Please continue to keep Rosie and me in your prayers for a full recovery. Barbara

    Mrs.P's Haven of Refuge


      Urgent & Immediate Special Request

      Vanderbilt Burn Center.
      On Wednesday, July 13th, my friend's wife and three
      children were exiting HWY
      109 in Lebanon, TN. and got on Interstate 40 heading
      east.  A pickup truck
      heading west on I-40 loss control and hydroplaned
      across the median at an
      excessive speed and struck my friend's wife's vehicle.
       The impact was so hard
      that it snapped off the back of the pickup truck that
      struck my friend's wife's
      vehicle.  Susie Bowman was crushed inside the vehicle
      and sustained broken
      shoulders and arms.  Miraculously, she was able to
      dial 911 while burning inside
      the vehicle.  Susie and one of her daughters were Life
      Flighted to Vanderbilt
      University.  The oldest daughter was released
      yesterday.  However, Susie is
      fighting for her life at The Vanderbilt Burn Center.
      She is suffering from 4th
      degree burns from her waist down.  She has lost one of
      her legs below the knee.
      The physicians are fighting to save her other leg.
      She is
      suffering numerous fractures across her upper torso
      and is on a respirator.
      The children are all in counseling.  One of the
      younger boys opened up today to
      his psychiatrist and shared that he saw his mother
      burning and is struggling
      emotionally.  The other is not much older than my son
      and needs lots of prayers.
      Steve has asked me to send out an email to ask for all
      of you to pray for
      Susana's recovery and for his family.  Please send
      this email to as many people
      as possible to initiate and maintain an endless prayer
      chain.  It would mean a
      lot to me if you would honor this request.  This
      family means a lot to my family
      and myself.
      Steve is in the process of trying to work with Channel
      4 News to coordinate a
      blood drive.  There may be a way to donate blood in
      Susan's name that will help
      her receive the blood she urgently needs.  There is a
      huge shortage of Negative
      blood in this area and if the accident happened last
      week, there was not any
      available.
      Myr8082@aol.com

SENIOR WRITERS

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

Boda, Ginger;  Bryant, Sharon;  Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.;  Crider, Mark; 

Deming, Barb; Goodier, Steve;  Harris, Kathy Anne; Hunt, Sharlette; 

Jacobson, Gary;  Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Jenkins, Pamela;

Liles, Norma;  Mazzella, Joe; Ojeigbe, Georgewaters;

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

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

Whirity, Kathy;  White, Robert;

STORYTIME TAPESTRY STAFF

Publisher: Carol Roach-founder

Moderator: Thelma Hartselle-co founder

Moderator: Clara Westerfer

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