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Subject: July 30, 2005 - Storytime Tapestry Newsletter - July29, 2005

STORYTIME TAPESTRY

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

July 30, 2005?

I have left for my vacation, remember to hold all comments and stories etc until I get back on the 9^th of August.? You can send any inquiries about Storytime Tapestry to Bob Johnston of Starfish, my moderator. See the special announcement I sent out yesterday for more details.

I am going to miss you all.

carol

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

IF I WERE A TREE

Leona Ebling

And if I could have chosen what one I would want to be maybe I would want to be a great, tall and majestic oak.? I would bend and sway with the winds as it came my way.? I would be bowing and giving HIM honor and praise.

At other times I would rustle my leaves in prayers of gratitude and thanks, worshipping HIM with each gust of the hot quick summer wind.? And I would whisper HIS name and sing HIS praises in each gentle breeze as they softly touch me, reminding me of HIS presence.

I, yes??ŚI would? even tremble at the quiet gentle night time breezes, and just stand and tremble in HIS presence.? For HE sees me, and HE hears me, and HE loves me, too.? In the fall of the year I would dress most majestically with reds, oranges, yellows, and gold among the many colors and shades of green.

Then as the winds would shake my limbs all so beautifully arrayed I would carefully wave each leave at HIM and let them drop at HIS feet as HE sits with earth as HIS footstool high in the heavens above me.?

I think HE would come by just to say, ???Hello my beautiful tree that I created.? I enjoy your praises each day and each season.? Oh and in the cold, cold winds of winter as I stand bare of my gorgeous array of leaves, my limbs would sparkle like diamonds with draped mounds of snow as it sparkled in the sun, shining for HIM.? Silent, or maybe moaning my love for HIM in the harsh winds that blow.

But most of all I love the springtime.? For proudly, I bud and leaf out each spring with my arms wide and inviting to all the beautiful little songbirds of the air to light and sing praises to HIM.

Oh, how thrilling to spend everyday, every season, in praise and open worship to the one who created me to be just a tree.

Even if I were just a small spindly poplar tree or even just a shrub, I would still with every breeze and every wind whisper and tremble, as I bow and bend before HIM.? Or I would in quiet times stand tall as I could in silence before my master.? Yes!? If I were a tree, I would joyously praise HIM, My CREATOR, Our Almighty God.

Written? by Leona Ebling

Wwjdleona @aol.com?

a fan who enjoy so much the writings of all your mailings to me.?

About Me:

Leona Ebling I have five children, 18 grandchildren and 18 greats going on 19
and more to follow I am sure. I have been for soon to be fifty years a full
time wife, mother, gramma and worked as personal companion and caretaker for
over thirty years. I write as a loved hobby and I am in the process of two
books being published and another to follow shortly I hope.

I write fiction, non-fiction, inspirational novels and short-shorts. I also
write children books and love writing poetry.

~**~**~?

Why Do They Have to YELL?

Susan Roberts

Have you ever noticed how in some commercials the man seems to be YELLING?

"HEY YOU NEED TO CALL 1-800 BUY THIS. IF YOU CALL RIGHT AWAY YOU WILL RECIEVE 2 FOR THE PRICE OF ONE. BUT YOU HAVE TO ACT FAST. DON'T LET THIS ONE PASS YOU BY! YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO HANG BY YOUR HEELS BEFORE, LIKE YOU CAN WITH THIS NEW PRODUCT. IT IS SO SIMPLE AND EASY TO OPERATE, A CHILD CAN DO IT!"

By the time the commercial is over, I need an asprin for the headach and wouldn't buy the product if my life depended on it!

And it being so "simple and easy a child can do it" is no big thing either! Kids have been able to open "childproof" lids on things that I CAN'T open! Now give me something a child can't operate, open or change and I might just THINK about buying it.

So if you know of someone that makes commercials, please ask them to tone it down even a little. Of course the asprin makers won't like that because the sale on asprin would drop like a rock!

Maybe I should learn to shout too.

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.

~**~**~?

The Tide Pool

Kathy Anne Harris

The middle-aged man parked his car at the top of the cliff, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The early Spring sun was hanging low on the horizon, a warm silver-yellow. Lemony foam purled atop the incoming tide, as waves broke gently on the beach.

Slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Jeremy walked over to the ledge. A cold breeze, heavy with a salty mist, brushed over and around him, ran phantom fingers through his hair, as he descended the steep sand and wood stairs to the beckoning beach.

There was a lovely tide pool circled with boulders and tucked away behind a bend in the cliff side that few visitors to the beach would ever discover. A tiny ribbon of sand abutted the rocks and provided enough room for him to sit at water??s edge. He sat down, leaned back against a large smooth rock, and gazed into the clear water of the tide pool. Each time a wave stretched out and collapsed on shore a ribbon of seawater would pulse into the pool then trickle back toward the ocean.

Colorful anemone and starfish moved slowly in their isolated world. Watching them usually managed to calm him. However, today he found himself on the other side of ???usually managed.??? It was the kind of day where things that happened in the past, resurface, wanted or not! Nothing unique to the human race, just the usual emotions that assail us all: grief, anger, sadness, loneliness, shame??Ś And this is where Jeremy came to work things out in his mind, if possible.

He did not hear the tinkling chime of disintegrating waves on sand. Nor the cries of the gulls overhead. Where the stairs bottom out on the sands of a nice sized beach, a family was playing fetch with their black, Labrador Retriever. He did not hear their laughter, or the excited bark of the dog.

His chest felt tight and weighted down. It was difficult for him to breath. He got to his knees and bent over the tide pool. Unbidden, tears welled up, and he wept. The sound of a crab scuttling over rock and sand drew his attention. He looked down and saw the crab disappear into a rock crevasse. He then studied his reflection in the still water. How ragged he looked, he thought. How worn down. He took a deep, settling breath and found the weight around his chest had lifted.

Another wave broke on the beach, a rivulet flowed into the pool and the water shivered. Jeremy reached out and dragged his fingers across the rippling surface. In moments the tidal pool was still and there, at his side, reflected in the pool was an angel. A grand being, with heavy, flowing wings the color of sunlight on pearls. And light pulsed from the angel like the flame of a candle. Such an image only the Divine could sculpt for it was beyond human beauty, The visage that regarded Jeremy was radiant with grace and the angel's countenance was like none Jeremy could describe. No such emotion or like expression had every played across a human face.

Jeremy trembled and all thoughts fled him, save for the presence of the angel. "Why?" he said, as he turned to the heavenly being at his side.

"I am an emissary, sent by the Creator, to be with you at such times as He decrees.

"As you sat here, your breathing was labored and you felt a heaviness inside of you."

Jeremy nodded.

"That weight was my presence with you, as I lifted the burden in your heart."

"The tears you wept, I gathered unto myself. I will present them to our Lord and he will return them to the heavens, to bless all things on the earth that flourish when gentle rains fall.

"The joy that will lift you up as you return to your world today will come as I embrace your spirit, to accompany me briefly, on my flight heavenward.

"And when it is your time to leave this place, I will hold your soul--for we will both be heaven bound, and my wings will take you home."

Jeremy shook his head. "But why am I allowed to see you? To hear you? Why was this done for me?"

The angel smiled. "It was allowed more for me. He gave me these few moments with you as a gift. A glorious token of His love... For it is an angel's heart's desire to be given time to commune with humans openly. To see one another with our eyes and to speak together with words."

"Will I remember my visit with you?"

The angel's eyes flashed the colors of sunrise. "Whether you shall recall our meeting I cannot say... that decision rests in our Lord's hands."

~*~

Jeremy did not remember, but the vision he beheld, and the words he heard, his spirit-soul will never forget.

~~**~~

Copyright 2005 by Kathy Anne Harris

I live in central, sunny California, where I share my life with my husband and our furry family. I work full time for a living, and I write in order to live fully.

My works have been featured in many online publications and in traditional print. I am also a weekly columnist for the publication "Frank Talk" which is distributed in several counties in the tri-state area of Michigan, Ohio, and Missouri. I've written four books and my fifth book, "For the Spirit-Soul," a collection of my short stories and poems will be released soon.

kappi00@gmail.com

kathyanneharris@spirit-soul.com

RELATED LINk:
http://www.spirit-soul.com/BeyondTheBridge.html
My websites:
http://www.spirit-soul.com/BeyondTheBridge.html
http://spirit-soul.com/ToShareWithYou.html
?

~**~**~?

Poetry Section

~**~**~

Another Place Out There

Dianna Doles Petry

There must another place out there,

Where the sunshine is streaming down.

There must be some excitement somewhere,

I've got to? get away from this one horse town.

There? must be a place for my heart,

Where someone longs to hold me so tight.

There must be someone out there for me,

I've got to? start wishing on stars tonight.

There must be more to life out there,

Than a television show and doing my hair.

There must be dancing and laughter, too,

I've got to start living like other people do.

There must a sunset over the canyon rim,

Where people stop to watch the vision so grand.

There must be many things I haven't yet seen,

I've got to start roaming all over this land.

We all wonder about the things we haven't got,

We think about the? people? from our past.

We think about the way things might have been,

It's so sad that the good times never seem to last.

There must be another place out there,

Where the water is clear and the skies are blue.

I don't think I'll find a place? to call? paradise,

It's not out in the world, it's in the heart of you.

Dianna Doles Petry

Dianna59@charter.net

July 9, 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

~**~**~

Darkness

Debra Shiveley

The? emptiness of a dungeon cell,

The? darkness of my soul,

I go through life, just as I am.

I cry, and play my roll.

The candle not threaded with a wick;

The lamp not filled with oil;

The job done over and over again,

No sign of sweat or toil.

The tears fall - leaving no traces.

The moans die in the night.

And as the mirror reflects nothingness,

The dark wall reflects light.

D.E. Shiveley

Merribuck @aol.com

~**~**~

The Jingle Dancer

Debra Shiveley?

The jingle dancer begins.
Poised, like a ballerina,
She stands upon her toes.
Shining metal cones tinkle as she moves.

Gracefully, she glides upon
The arena's grassy surface,
Pivoting, swaying,
Her body as supple as a willow branch.

She is the heartbeat of her tribe:
Beautiful, ethereal.
Her neck, swan-like curves,
As she bows her head in humility.

Merribuck @aol.com

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.