Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

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Feb 20, 2006

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Today??™s announcements

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Our contest progresses right on schedule and today I am proud to announce this issue of Storytime Tapestry is brought to you entirely by new writers.?  Our first new writer is Rosanne Catalano, writer # 292.?  Rosanne is a newsletter publisher and a wonderful friend. Ettarose Lazaros is writer #293. She lost her beloved husband and found writing. Let??™s all encourage the writing muse to blossom.?  Jene Lind is back, Jene is a very new writer, who joined us in February.?  This is her second submission. Please welcome all three wonderful ladies to Storytime Tapestry.

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Now onto the good stuff!

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Today??™s Valentine Stories

~**~**~

"MY FIRST LOVE -- AT AGE 39!"? 

Rosanne Catalano

It was raining the day I met the love of my life, and I had not wanted to go out to pick up a former friend, my car was no longer 'new' and wasn't in good shape at all. The driver's door wouldn't close -- something to do with a broken hinge! -- so I had to drive with one hand on the wheel, the other holding the door handle to keep the door from flying open...

But when I pulled into the train station to pick up my friend, will never forget that all I could see in this big, brown Buick was 'his gorgeous face,' his 'sparkling' eyes ... even though my sweetheart wasn't even looking my way. An overwhelming feeling and desire to run to him, kiss and hug him, and to never let him go overtook me in that instant. As if the Lord were guiding me to him and knew my sweetheart would be my true soul mate.

Everything else but 'my sweetheart' had receded in my vision ... people walking to & from the train station, cars pulling in and out, etc. All just a blur ... even though he still had not noticed me; he wasn't even looking my way! What confused me was that I did not even know this person, why was I feeling this way -- As if 'Cupid's Arrow' had struck me?!?

And then in the next confusing instant at the train station, I see an ugly face -- like the devil -- on the passenger side of this big, brown car. Becoming real scared, I quickly swerved my car away to get out of there ... and felt like an idiot when I heard my friend's voice calling me from the back seat of this big, brown car with the Love of My Life driving it and the devil sitting next to him!

But I had a problem ... The Love of My Life still did not seem to notice me (or so I thought!) until our eyes met and held in the living room of the apartment I was living in? -- and, even then, I wasn't sure he was actually looking into my eyes as I was his! I sunk to my knees behind my former friend to hide my reaction to my sweetheart (a reaction I had no control over) and the strong 'effect' and 'feelings' he was having over me and the confusion I was feeling about him -- I had never, ever felt this way about anyone before! I guess that is what they mean by love at first sight ...

On our first date, which happened a week after him and I locking eyes in the living room, we were both so darn nervous, you wouldn't believe that we were almost 40 years old. He got lost picking me up (even though he had driven my former friend to my apartment a couple of times before), and I thought he had 'stood me up,' started crying so hard that I looked a 'fright' by the time my sweetheart finally arrived ... I felt like a 'teenager on her first date' -- and found out later that my sweetheart had also felt the very same way.

The Love of My Life was the man I had dreamed of falling in love with all my life, but had never found until that fateful day when all I saw was my sweetheart and what a beautiful man he is -- inside and out ... even though I had been married at 21 and divorced at 33 years of age, I wondered to myself "Where were you all my life?" I finally know what it means to be 'in love' with your soulmate ....

It is now eight years since our fateful 'first date,' and we're still so much in love that kissing in the supermarket is an every day event ....

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Publisher/Editor-in-Chief:?  The Cat's Meow for Writers & Readers Ezine (A Progressive Ezine);

Author:?  "Touch of Tomorrow - In Loving Memory" (book of poetry) and numerous short stories and poetry published online.

E-mail Address: ctrosanne@aol.com

Author Web Site: www.rosannecatalano.net

Copyright (c.) 2006

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Though Rosanne Catalano, a.k.a. R.C.Kayla, is editor-in-chief and publisher of The Cat's Meow for Writers & Readers ezine, she continues to write her nonfiction/fiction short stories, poetry and articles. The Cat's Meow for Writers & Readers ezine was created by Rosanne to complement her author web site after much publication success in a book and online. Her ezine recently received a "Bronze Award"; Rosanne herself has received a "Golden Pencil Award" for her short stories and poetry. Please check out Rosanne's author web site, where you can also read The Cat's Meow for Writers & Readers ezine along with all her wonderful published writing: http://www.rosannecatalano.net.

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~**~**~

THE FORGOTTEN CHILD

By Rosanne Catalano

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???That poor little boy across the street??¦??? she began telling her husband, as he walked in the front door that night.

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???Why? What happened???? he asked, removing his scarf and coat.

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???His mom abandoned little Jerry and her parents and ran off to Pennsylvania with her new boyfriend.???

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???What?! I thought she was married??¦??? Ralph exclaimed.

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???What we saw from across the street was not the truth of Katie??™s situation,??? she began to tell her hubby, sitting down at the kitchen table. ???Katie and her son, Jerry, were living with her parents??¦ she had told me she had moved in with them shortly after Jerry??™s father abandoned her and the little boy one day.???

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???And now she is abandoning her little boy by running off with this new guy.???

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???So where does that leave little Jerry???? her husband asked, plopping into a chair across from her.

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???Most likely, he??™ll be put into a foster home, if his grandparents can??™t care for him??¦ Let??™s pray and hope that little boy doesn??™t have to go into a foster home; that his grandparents will take care of him and don??™t feel they??™re too old to do so.??? She said.

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???Well, let??™s see??¦ We could inquire about adopting little Jerry, when the situation calls

for it.???

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???The only thing is our lifestyle isn??™t conducive to us having a child living with us, sweetheart.??? She said, sighing.

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???I know, but we shall see what happens. All we can do now is pray to God that he takes good care of that poor little boy,??? he said.

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???God, I pray to you for that scared little boy and his family who lives across the street from us; even though I was always jealous of the attention Katie paid to my hubby, I always had lots of affection for the little boy??¦ poor kid. Amen.??? she said, making the sign of the cross to end her prayers.

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???Actually, I think they took little Jerry to the Medical Center because the grandparents weren??™t able to take care of the boy, and the neighbors had begun to notice he wasn??™t very well-cared for, the house was falling down around them, and the mother, Katie, didn??™t seem to care or didn??™t have the money to care,??? she told her hubby this latest news, that she had heard from their landlord upstairs.

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???Then there were signs of abuse to the boy???? he asked.

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???Not sure, but the neighbors, and then the grandparents, had called the police on Katie??¦ Katie just up and moved to Pennsylvania with her new boyfriend without taking her son, so the grandparents called the police or the neighbors did??¦ I??™m sorry, Hon, but I got this information from the landlord and I??™m not even sure she knows all of what happened across the street,??? she said, getting up to pour another cup of coffee.

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???In any case, I??™ve been sitting here all day thinking of a way to help poor little Jerry??¦ Maybe as soon as they discharge him from the Medical Center, we could inquire as to who will be taking care of him??¦ Would it be possible to put him in our home ??“ we could be Jerry??™s foster parents until they find another home for him???? she asked, sitting back down at the kitchen table.

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???Baby girl, you know our lifestyle is definitely not conducive for a kid??¦??? he began, gruffly getting up and beginning to pace the kitchen. ???Especially not for a three-year-old!???

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???I know,??? she agreed. ???Now I feel as if my hands are tied??¦ I want to help the little boy but we really can??™t.???

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When I realized the good Lord was not going to bless us with any biological children of our own, I figured I could give the love I have to give to the children of the world who needed us to help them. But, as my hubby said, the truth of the matter was that we were both in our late-40??™s and only had two cats to care for??¦ We were used to coming and going as we pleased. That is what made it so hard??¦ They both knew there was no way the courts would even consider them as foster parents, because of their age.

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???What a shame,??? she said. ???It is not fair, I tell you!???

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???I know, Princess,??? he said, putting his arms around her in a bear-like embrace.

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She was remembering what her hubby and her mother told her many times; that ???charity begins at home??¦???

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She hated to admit it, but they were right. Besides sponsoring Hermalinda years ago, the only other charity she had offered was to her sister and her two girls??¦ when her sister??™s ex-husband had walked out on her and their two daughters two days after Thanksgiving. She had begun to help her sister out whenever she could by babysitting as much as possible so that her sister could go out with friends on occasion, and would often help her nieces??™ with their homework right after school or, when her sister??™s girls were little, she would read them bedtime stories until they fell asleep so that her sister had free time to herself.

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The one thought that kept going through her mind was, ???That poor little boy across the street??¦ Now he has no family to speak of??¦ His mom abandoned him along with her parents (little Jerry??™s grandparents) to run off to Pennsylvania with her new boyfriend, and I don??™t understand why she would abandon her own son!???

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She picked up the telephone to make some inquiry calls at the medical center to find out how little Jerry was faring, and ended up saying to the hospital receptionist, ???I would like to inquire how to go about foster parenting a little boy who was brought in for neglect by his mother.???

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Copyright ?© January 2006 by Rosanne Catalano

ctrosanne@aol.com

~**~**~

A Box of Love? 

Ettarose Lazaros

ettaroselazaros@yahoo.com

He was a collector. If it wasn't maps, books or political buttons, it
was stamps. He started collecting stamps as a young boy, fascinated by
the stamps that came from his parents' homeland and with the domestic
stamps on their mail. His love of history and creativity of design, made
stamp collecting a perfect hobby. All his collections followed the
pattern of his loves.? 

Early in our marriage I wasn??™t aware that collecting fever was
something that never left his soul; something that had no cure. I began to
notice that mail thrown away, soon reappeared on the dresser. The stamp on
the envelope was rescued from trash to value status.? ?  This collecting
???stuff??? was a love; a something deep inside his soul that said, ???I have
to do it.??? Rather than to compete with this love, I reminded myself
that I, too, was one of his loves.? 

He spent occasional lunch hours pursuing his passion of collecting and
connecting himself with others who shared his loves. He would visit an
auction house, where he would bid on stamp lots. It was much better
nourishment for his body than food. Winning seemed to fill him with energy
that food didn??™t always provide. The win gave him that collecting fever
that rid the body of toxins. As long as his
collecting was fruitful, most of life??™s negatives became minor.
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One day, he was at the auction house, when a birthday and anniversary
postcard lot was listed. He bid on it for my birthday and won.? 
It was a special gift, because I have always been impressed with the
details of things that were manufactured years ago. He was especially
intrigued by the graphics, the history and, of course, the possibility
that this too could become a collection. Both of us loved reading the heartfelt

messages on the backs. After a wonderful 32nd birthday of sharing this gift, the

cards were put in a box in the closet to be saved, with the hope that future cards

would become part of the collection. There wasn??™t much time to add to it or
further enjoy it, as four months later; he went into the hospital for
outpatient surgery. He came out with symptoms similar to Alzheimer's and a
stroke. He no longer could concentrate on collecting. He couldn't
remember yesterday, let alone what he did five minutes ago. His short term
memory was gone.?  He now had an ailment that collecting couldn??™t chase
away.

I would tell him it was a special day in the morning, and five minutes
later the thought was gone. He often said that someone must be changing
the calendar because it no longer made sense to him. Birthdays,
Valentines Day and our anniversary became depressing. They were no longer
special in his mind. It was difficult to think that he would not grasp the
idea that our years together were growing.?  We were collecting years
together, but no memories were being collected in his mind with the
passage of time. In his mind, our anniversary would always be 13 years, and
I would forever be 32.

It was difficult to know that I would never again hold
some new tangible gift of his love. It wasn't so much the getting of
the gift as was the giving of his creative self that I did, and would,
miss.?  I missed his history lessons, the quick wit, and the creative
self.?  Yes, I even missed picking up and putting up with the collections.
All of it was a thing of the past.

The past was the word that hung in my brain and pervaded my thoughts.
That word, ???past??? caused me to think of the last gift that John gave me
as a result of his collecting hunt. With the word directing my actions,
I found myself pulling the box of postcards from the closet. With each
card that I looked at, my mindset began to change.?  I read messages
that seemed to be directed at me. I saw the creativity in each card. I saw
that there were enough cards for each birthday and each anniversary to
last my lifetime. Unknowingly, the last gift he gave me would continue,
in the years ahead, to provide words and pictures that John picked out
for me.?  While John??™s brain would no longer allow him to think of
purchasing a card, the soul of his collecting would disperse his love.

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For fifteen years, it has been his continuing gift of
love and a continuing way for his creative expression
of love to continue. Each year I go to the box and pick
out one card for celebrations to read from him. His
collecting, his sentimental thoughts, his careful
selection of a gift that was just perfect in saying,
"I love you," were not a thing of the past!

The box continues to give even after his death. When I need to feel him
close, I take out my box. I hold a postcard in my hand, and it makes me
feel like I am holding a part of him. As I wrap my arms around the box
of postcards to put back in the closet, somehow I feel the loving arms
of a collector wrapping his arms around me.? 
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Ettarose Lazaros

ettaroselazaros@yahoo.com

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~**~**~

No Greater Love? ? 

Jene Lind

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They say there is no greater love save for God's love for mankind

than the love of a mother for her child, whether it be a human, beast

or fowl. This I believe to be true. Just like the robin that shielded her

babies 'neath her wings in a forest fire, Lucretia shielded her baby

from the flames and the searing heat from the woodstove.

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Lucretia lived on the prairie, when one cold February afternoon she

was putting wood into the woodstove to prepare for supper. As she

turned around to get more wood from her stepson to put on the fire,

her dresstail caught fire. It took a moment for her to realize the flames

were licking at her back. Being 4 and a half months pregnant, she

wrapped her arms around? her stomach and started screaming, "Oh,? 

my baby, my baby, hurry, put the fire out! " Jesse and his sisters were

in the kitchen and his sister Ella was at the zinc where she had some

dish water left from the noon day meal.

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She grabbed the pan of water and flung it at Lucretia, barely dousing

the flames, but enough to give her older sister space to throw a quilt

around Lucretia, smothering the flames. But they were too late to

keep the flames from doing great? injury to Lucretia. Her back and

sides and arms were injured badly. As she lay on the floor writhing

with pain, not once did she complain of the pain for herself. Her concern

was for her baby. "Oh, God, have mercy on my baby. Please keep my

baby safe from this fire," was her prayer.

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The snow was deep outside and it was very cold, but Jesse bundled up

and took off walking down the country road in hopes of someone coming

by to take him to town to get help. He knew his mom was hurting badly and

the clothes? were burned off her back. Some of her flesh was blackened.

He, too, wondered if the baby was going to be all right.

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Nine year old Jesse made it to town and the ambulance went to get his mom

and take her to the hospital. When the doctors saw the extent of her burns they

told her they would have to do skin grafts and would put her on pain medicine

to help her with the pain. They weren't sure the baby would live and told her

they may have to take it to save her life. ? Lucretia told them, "no, you are not

taking my baby. God gave me this baby and it is His to take back. I will wait

to have the grafts. I will not kill my baby."?  They explained she could not

have certain medicines because it would affect her baby and she refused

pain medication. She was put into the burn unit and watched for infection.

She suffered greatly during the coming months. She was in agony from the

burns for awhile and then a peace come over her and when she felt the

stirrings of life from her womb she knew her baby would be all right. Her

love for her baby far surpassed her pain, and in June she gave birth to a

tiny baby girl. Lucretia was scarred for life, but her baby was going to make

it. She remained in the hospital for a few more days and she and baby Grace,

were allowed to go home. Lucretia was joyful. She spent four long months

in the hospital with pain and uncertainty, but, in the end, love conquered all.

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By Jene' Lind

ImAuthor4U@aol.com? 

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Poetry Valentines Contest Section

~**~**~

HOW WE REMEMBER THEE,

IN LOVING MEMORY OF DAD

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He lovingly fed and clothed us

For all the world to see

How much he loved us three??¦

He? even dove into a swimming pool once,

Fully clothed to save his youngest from drowning

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Whatever we wanted,

He gave us with love,

In his later years, all the latest

electronic gadgets were

Bestowed upon us five??¦

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He steered us in the right direction

for all our lives and beyond

When one of us was hurting

He hurt too.

Told us gently ???It will be alright??¦???

He wanted a life full of happiness and laughter

For his children, grandchildren and great-grandchild

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No heartbreak and pain for the children

Of such a gentle, loving man??¦

He wanted to shield us from the pain

He suffered when younger

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Now we say to him: ???Dad, we love you so

and will miss you forever more ??¦ we did not want you to go,

But are comforted in knowing no more pain for such a loving man.???

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Copyright ?© 2005 by Rosanne Catalano

ctrosanne@aol.com

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Senior Writers

Chief writer: Sharon Bryant

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Agee, Vance; Apted, Violet; Baker, Kathy; Batt, Al; Berry, Nell; Blaine, Pamela; Boda, Ginger; Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.; Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark; Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria; Gilbert, Robert, Jr.; Goodier, Steve; Braun-Haley, Ellie; Harris, Kathy Anne; Hunt, Sharlett; Hymes, Christina; Jacobson, Gary; Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Kevin, Tim; Jenkins, Pamela; Liles, Norma; Lily Jodi Flesberg; Lock, Joyce; Mazzella, Joe; Morris, Deepak; Ojeibge, Georgewaters; Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan; Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Streidel, Saskia; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan; Walker, Bill; Walker, Joe; Warner, Gordon, K; Walsh, Sue; Weymouth, Barbara J.; Whirity, Kathy; White Robert;

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Storytime Tapestry Staff

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer ??“ moderator

Bob Johnston - moderator

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