STORYTIME TAPESTRY

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

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Sept 16, 2005? 

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Announcing our newest writer to Storytime Tapestry, I present to you Sumit Ghoshal, writer # 244, who comes to you all the way from India.?  Please email him and let him know what you think of his work.

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Happy Birthday wishes goes out to Derrick Tully from your friends at Storytime Tapestry.

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

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

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Do You Think About Me?

Bill Walker

wildbill6807@yahoo.com

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You were in such a hurry. You was packing the car. I noticed you was grabbing things and in such a hurry. I noticed you didn't seem to have time to talk to me, or pet me for a second. I noticed you never put any food or water in my dish. Like you do when your going to be gone for a few hours. A few hours, I set by the door, and wait for you to return. I would walk to the window and look out to see if your were pulling in to the drive way, from time to time.?  But you were in such a hurry this time to leave. My natural dog feelings know bad weather was coming. See that is something us dogs has known for ever, we know. The storms? we know is coming long before you do.? We need no weather people to tell us to take cover. But I figured you was going to take me, that is maybe why you didn't put water and food down for me.

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You went out the door, never said a word to me. Did I do something wrong? I heard the car start. I ran to the window, seen you pull away, like you had some rush to leave. I barked as loud as?  I ever did. Please don't leave me, I know there is a bad storm coming, please take me.

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I run from door to door, window to window. Please, isn't there some one to help me? Do you ever think of me?

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The storm came, the house was shaking. The wind, the rain, I never seen such rain, nor heard such wind. I could no longer watch out the windows. I was looking for some place to get under. There was no place I could get. The roof went first, I was? drenched in the water, it was just like a river in what was left of the house. Well a lake of water. would be more like it. I floated or swam to get on top of anything, it was that or be drowned. At last it let up. But now what? Here I am, will you return??  I am all alone here, what am I to do??  Remember me, please come back and get me.

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About the second day, some kind soul got in and took me out, yes I am one of the lucky ones. I joined many others who had been left behind in the rush to leave. ? Do you ever think about me.

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We were taken to a place, given some food and fresh water. It was for some the first food and fresh water in days. I was lucky I was with out for only a couple days. Do you ever think about me?

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After a couple more days we were taken for a long ride. Then we found our selves in a nice clean place. Lots of running room here. The food is just great, and from what I hear we will stay here for ever, till a home is found for us. Do you ever think of me?

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I hope I will get some new people that will think of me. Treat me like family, you sure didn't. Do you ever think of me??  If you showed up, I may be like Jesus, I know you not.

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Do you ever think of me. I hope you sleep well knowing what you did to me.

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Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write

http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book_detail.asp?&isbn=0-595-35741-5

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

Porch Sittin??™

Pamela Blaine

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???What are you doing?????  I asked Willie as I passed by his house on my way home.

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???Awwww I??™m just doin??™ some porch sittin??? he replied as he swung back and forth ever so slightly on his porch swing.? 

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As a child, I would often see Willie out on his porch.?  He was an older man who still worked hard around his place but he often took time off for some ???porch sittin??™???.

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???I got the radio on and the Cardinals will be playing ball here in a minute if you want to sit a spell,??? Willie said as he scooted over on the swing and patted the seat next to him as he adjusted the volume on the radio.

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It was summertime and many other scenes such as the one I mention above took place everyday where I grew up.?  ???Porch sittin??? was a common activity.?  Nearly everyone had a porch with a wooden swing that hung down from chains that were held by hooks on the porch ceiling.?  Most swings held two or three people and if neighbors showed up to sit a spell then more chairs would be brought out from inside the house.?  The younger folks might sit on the porch steps while children played in the yard or found a tree to climb.

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The porch was like an extension of the living room because it was cooler out on the porch when the summer??™s heat became uncomfortable.?  There wasn??™t air conditioning so houses were often built so that they were situated where the breeze would waft across the porch and there was a roof that protected porch sitters from the sun and rain.?  Essentially, all the work that could possibly be done outdoors was transported to the porch where it was cooler and it seemed to make the job more enjoyable just by being outside in nature??™s living room.? 

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It seems like a lot of living took place on porches in times past.?  At least it was that way where I grew up.?  Seeing a person sitting on their front porch was pretty much the same as an invitation for neighbors to stop by and pass the time of day.

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Many people did part of their garden work on their porches.?  It didn??™t matter if it was snapping beans, hulling peas, or peeling apples someone was apt to sit down beside you and give you a hand with the chore.

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I remember a lot of visiting, discussions, and even problems solved while snapping green beans.?  Women learned from one another and often offered help for whatever need that was mentioned.?  ???Try using a little corn starch on that baby??™s diaper rash,??? a young mother might learn from an older neighbor lady, ???And next time you need to work out in the garden, just bring that little one over here and I??™ll watch him, I kind of miss having a baby around,??? the neighbor might say.? 

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Those were good times when porches were used for many things.?  Women did needle work or rocked babies, men whittled or fixed things, and children played ???pretend???.? ? ? 

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Sometimes the porch was used to just get off alone for a time and read, meditate, or just do some thinking??¦???woolgathering??? Momma used to call it.

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Even if the sun wasn??™t shining, there was nothing quite like the sound of rain on the porch roof.?  It was such a secure feeling and a perfect time to curl up on the porch swing with a quilt and a good book and listen to the soft pattering of the raindrops.

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The summer nights were also very good for ???porch sittin???.?  We made friends with the night sky as we enjoyed God??™s creation.? ?  As a child I learned about stars and constellations from my parents.?  I learned how to identify the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, and then identify the North Star and the Milky Way.? 

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There were all the different night sounds that were a little frightening at first until Momma explained the howling of the coyotes, the loud noise of the bullfrog, and the calls of hoot owls and whippoorwills.?  We also watched the mysterious twinkling lightning bugs flit around in the dark.?  A permanent picture is engraved in my mind of my mother standing in a long white nightgown, arms outstretched above her, as she caught lightning bugs in a jar for me one hot summer??™s night.

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Occasionally, when summer nights didn??™t cool off enough to be comfortable for sleeping, some folks would sleep outside on their porches.?  My girlfriends and I thought that sleeping on the porch was a great adventure, except for that one time when the cat decided to bring us a gift and we woke up to find half of a mouse upon our quilt!

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In later years, my parents enclosed our front porch for an extra room.?  I hated to see the porch closed in but I was glad when my parents simply moved the old porch swing and hung it from the huge old maple tree where the family still gathered.?  Daddy and my brother would often sit out there under that tree and play their guitars, usually with a dog or two stretched out beneath their feet as they played one more chorus of ???Just A Closer Walk With Thee.???? 

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I have always loved porch swings.?  After I was grown and married, the one thing that sold me on the house that we bought was the swing on the back porch that overlooked a pond.

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I??™m glad to see that some houses being built today are going back to adding porches.?  Yet, it isn??™t the porches, it??™s the people that make the difference.?  As I drive through neighborhoods these days I sometimes wonder, ???Where are all the people??  Are they all at Wal-Mart or inside watching television?????  If so, they are missing out on a lot.

Why not shoo the kids outside and take a little time out for some ???porch sittin?????  Take something along to read or work on if you like but there??™s nothing wrong with just sitting and doing nothing because it really isn??™t doing nothing, it??™s ???porch sittin???.?  If practiced enough, you can become an expert at it.? 

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It seems like ???porch sittin??? is nearly a lost art.?  Perhaps we can still revive it. If you don??™t have a porch, don??™t worry, a chair out under a shade tree will do.?  I don??™t have a porch like I once had either but I have a great imagination and all of God??™s creation is still right there to enjoy.? 

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Well, it??™s been a long day so I think I??™ll go outside for a spell because it??™s just about ???porch sittin??? time.

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By

Pamela Perry Blaine

?© June 2005

Pam lives in Missouri with her husband, Michael.?  She enjoys composing music and writing stories.?  She writes "Pam's Corner" for her local newspaper, The Edina Sentinel.?  Pam and her husband are active in their church where she plays piano and he is music leader.?  They have a CD available called, "I'll Walk You Home".? ?  The title song is about her lifelong friend who died of cancer.?  You can hear this song on her website:? http://blaines.us/PamyPlace.htmSeveral of her stories have been published on the internet as well as in books such as The Miracle Of Sons, 2The Heart/People Who Make A Difference,? and A Tribute To Moms.?  Her goal is to write to encourage others and to write stories for her children and grandchildren? so that stories and family history will be preserved.? 

My Website:http://blaines.us/PamyPlace.htme-mail: pamyblaine@blaines.us

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~**~**~? 

For Granted

Kathy Anne Harris

So many things I have taken for granted. "The Merriam-Webster Dictionary" definition: 2: something granted; esp: a gift for a particular purpose. I looked that up this evening. It is the first time I've ever wondered what the meaning of that word "granted" in the term "take for granted" meant.

I looked it up in "Webster's Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language" and found a more in-depth definition: 6. take for granted, a. to accept without question or objection; assume. b. to use, accept, or treat in a careless or indifferent manner.

Boy, that second set of definitions about said it all for me. Defined my attitude to a tee. It has always been easy to live that way--accepting without questions, assume, accept in a careless or indifferent manner.

It has not been that extreme for me throughout the years. I have always appreciated and treasured any time spent in the mountains, moments when critters of all kind shared part of their lives with me, the holidays, grandma and grandpa, books.

I learned that certain things I had assumed would always be a part of my life could be taken away. The love of a father and grandfather, through disease. The presence of a devoted, accepting, loving pet by old age. The dedication and companionship of a friend, by an auto accident.

Yet, from the blindness of youth I failed to see that, as the years passed, my skin was losing the supple glow of the young. My eyes, the vision that allowed me to read things that my parents could not. The agility and limberness that allowed me to play and fall. That made it possible for me to bang into and bounce off of furniture and walls and the hard ground and only cry about it if someone witnessed my clumsiness.

I lost that childlike vision that opened the world to the joy of giggles, the wonder of a baby bird, the excitement of my first trip to Disneyland, and the delight in anticipating the arrival of Santa. It was my heart's sight that allowed me to observe the world around me with an open mind, and the people in my sphere of existence as people I could trust--I never knew a stranger.

Somewhere between childhood naivety and the assumed maturity of young adulthood, I shed the ability to recall the miraculous, to trust, and to accept. As a person of "age" I began to take for granted, more and more, important things in life. Mortality, on a personal level, would not affect me. Disease was a destiny for others, but not in my world. Getting older... Getting gray... Getting rickety did not apply to me. Stairs and mountainsides, sand dunes and carnival rides would never seem insurmountable to me. My legs would not give out. My stamina would be forever youthful. I could always ride the tummy-tossing roller-coasters and whirling dervishes and never get sick.

The sun was my friend, the snow my playmate, and never would I have thought to fear them. The summer breeze at sunset would bring with it the scent of fresh-washed gingham, Breck shampoo in still-damp hair, and an air of romance--those magical moments would be mine, forever.

But forever suddenly becomes yesterday. And time hurtles on. The more complicated life and the world becomes . . . the more simpler experiences and moments give me the most pleasure. Regaining my childlike wonderment gives my older eyes renewed vision. The best sight, really. A melding of past and present, shapes my vision of the future. I have three angles to see through and the clarity has never been better.

It is all a gift, for a particular purpose, as the dictionary defined.

Thank you Lord for knocking me low enough that I could see everything, when looking up.

Copyright 2005 by Kathy Anne Harris

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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.htmlMy websites:http://www.spirit-soul.com/BeyondTheBridge.htmlhttp://spirit-soul.com/ToShareWithYou.html

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~**~**~

The Journey

Sumit Ghoshal

It was hard to believe that I had left the dust and heat of Bombay less than
an hour ago; the world around me was almost completely made of green -
verdant valleys on one side of the highway, and the steep hillside on the
other.

I drove slowly, watching every step of the way, for the hills around Bombay
can be treacherous when it begins to rain. But once a year, I force myself
to embrace the danger, the very real possibility of falling to a certain
death, in memory of a past that would always be a part of me.
Despite a slight drizzle, I had kept the window on the passenger side half
open; that was how it always used to be. No matter that I would have a tough
time later on, when putting the seat cushions out to dry.

As I entered a deeply wooded area on a flat stretch, before the next climb
began, the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze as though someone was singing
inside my head. One single leaf, yellowed with age, rode on the breeze into
my car. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, and braked hard, thinking it
was a dragonfly or something. Then I shook my head with a smile, as the
thought crossed my mind that everything that was born would have to die,
there were no exceptions, and may be I was being childish in trying to hold
on to it. I promised myself that I would soon get rid of the blinds that I
had been wearing for such a long time.

Then I saw her! An ethereal figure in the middle of the road, waving her
hands, clad in the same white sari that she wore when I saw her last. On her
wrist was the bauble I had gifted her for our fourth wedding anniversary,
just a week before she had hurtled down the hillside.

I slammed the brakes and screeched to a halt barely missing the hopelessly
inadequate railing, within a hairbreadth of the 1000-foot drop down below.
But before I could say anything, the specter vanished. I drove the car ahead
at a crawl until the next curve, wondering what it all meant. And then I
knew. Just 50 yards ahead, the entire hillside had come down, blocking the
road completely. It was at the exact spot where that horrible nightmare had
occurred a full decade ago. With a shock, I realised that the spot itself
had disappeared forever and that I would not be able to make this pilgrimage
again even if I wanted to!

Strangely overcome with a flood of relief, I turned the car around, my mood
lighter than ever before, and began the journey back home. For the first
time that day, I turned up the volume of the FM radio in the car, willing to
enjoy myself.

Ends

Sumit Ghoshal

sumitghoshal@hotmail.com

About me:

I am a journalist and writer based in Bombay, India, for the past 15 years.
I have one novel to my name (titled: In the Pink of Wealth) and preparing to
write the second.

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Writers Feedback

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Prayer Requests and Updates

To all;

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Sorry if I made sound like Jackie was having surgery, she didn't she just had

appointment with the surgeon yesterday. The surgeon told her that the hernia

hole was small and that she did need to get it taken care of but? he doesn't

think the hernia is all of? the problem.

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She has been having problems for the last fifteen years that the other doctors

said were stress attacks, this surgeon said he was going to do surgery? Sept.

27th. to repair the hernia, but before surgery he will have chest x-rays, and

a sonogram of her gall bladder to see if there is stones, if there is the gall

bladder will have to come out, if there isn't stones then later that day she will

have to get a hydrascan on her gall bladder. this will take place on the 23 of

Sept.? 

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That is where they will inject dye into her gall bladder and make it contract

then they can measure how much bile it is putting out. She is worried about

having this all done and wondering if her gall bladder is bad if they can take it

out when they do the hernia repair surgery on the 27th of Sept.

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She got up feeling good yesterday morning,? and had to go to the doctor's office,

I told her that God had answered prayers and thats why she was feeling better.? 

That her testing might just come back with nothing being wrong, and just the

hernia having to be repaired.

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Thank you all for your prayers for Jackie and God bless you and yours always!

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Walking with him

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Richard & Jackie Sims & Family? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?  Online Prayer Warriors!!!

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P.S.? ? ?  ? My son Rick and I have been busy hauling corn from here in

Pittsburg, Ks.? to Springdale, Ark. and to Westville, Ok. so I have busy

being here and there.

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Please keep my cousins in your prayers (both with cancer)?  Margarets kidneys are failing...? 

please pray that they will start to function without going on dialysis and that Lil' Sean will

be able to return to school in Octobler if only part-time.?  Father God Please keep your

mighty hands on Sean and Margaret, they have both been through so much, Lord...? 

Comfort them and give them both your peace that passes all understanding and restore

their health according to your will.?  In Jesus' precious name.....?  Amen & Amen

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thank you for your love and prayers....?  Love, Barbara

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? SENIOR WRITERS

Chief Writer: Sharon Bryant

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

Boda, Ginger;? ? Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.;?  Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark;? 

Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria; Goodier, Steve; Halley, Ellie Braun;

Harris, Kathy Anne;? Hunt, Sharlette;? 

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

Liles, Norma; Lock, Joyce; Mazzella, Joe;? Ojeigbe, Georgewaters;

?  Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan;?  Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan

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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