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Storytime Tapestry Newsletter
The newsletter devoted to
spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.
March 30, 2006
Today’s announcements
Happy Birthday Ron Gold, from all your
friends at Storytime Tapestry.
If you would look at today’s comments
you will see that Donna was disappointed because she had not printed copies of
the Loren Moore and Clara Westerfer saga.
Please note that all stories are listed in the archives of Storytime
Tapestry and you can read them or print them out at any time.
Storytime Tapestry Archives: http://archives.zinester.com/98907 or simply click the link VISIT ARCHIVES, at the bottom of each newsletter.
Now onto the good stuff!
Today’s Queue Stories
~**~**~
“Welcome
Home”
(Story
as told to me by a Viet Nam Veteran
who
prefers to remain anonymous)
Pamy Blaine
The other day I was walking into
the local Wal-Mart store when I noticed an older man walking beside a younger
man. The younger man was wearing army
fatigues.
I was
curious so I stopped and asked, “Excuse me young man, but I was just wondering
if you were in the service or are you just wearing fatigues?"
The
young man stated that he was really in the army and then his Dad added in a strong
voice that was filled with pride, “This is my son and he has just returned
from his second tour in Iraq."
I
told him how glad I was that he had returned home safely and then I said,
“Young man, I would like to do something for you that no one outside of my
family did for me when I returned home from serving in Viet Nam.”
“What
is that?” he asked.
“I’d
be proud to welcome you home by shaking your hand if I might and say thank you
for your service to our country,” I said as I held out my hand.
The
young soldier and his Dad both stood a little taller as the young man stuck out
his hand which I readily grasped and we just stood there, the three of us,
with our right hands joined. We
were three strangers drawn together by a common bond, we all understood, not
needing to say anything more.
After
nodding to each other, I started to break the grasp and walk away but the young
soldier seemed to have something on his mind as he hesitated, and then he
stopped me before I could move. He was
quiet for a moment and then he looked me straight in the eye and then he ever
so clearly uttered the words, "Thank you . . . and . . . Welcome Home”.
We
then parted company as we went our separate ways. I finished buying the supplies I needed,
walked on home, and oh yeah … I cried.
(Anonymous Viet Nam veteran)
We often forget to be thankful to those
who serve our country, protect us from terrorism, and preserve our
freedom. We have veterans living today
that have served us in WWII, Korea, Viet Nam, and The Persian Gulf. We have those on active duty who are serving
our country right now in Iraq as well as
other places around the world.
Today the average age of a WWII Veteran
is 81; we are quickly losing them from the battlefield of life. They are now leaving us at the rate of 1500
per day. I see many of them carrying our
flag in parades and participating in military funerals. They tell me the veteran’s organizations need
more veterans to help them with these duties now. This is due to the failing health and the
deaths of most of the WWII veterans who have kept these organizations alive
with their unswerving dedication and patriotism. Perhaps it’s time we expressed appreciation
with a card or a phone call to someone we know personally while there’s still
time. It shouldn’t have to be Memorial
Day or Veteran’s Day for us to be appreciative toward all of our veterans no
matter where they served. The point is
that they served and gave of themselves that we might live in freedom.
We can also show our appreciation to
those serving us right now by writing letters, sending e-mails, or sending
packages to our soldiers. * Today
is a good day to be grateful, there’s no time like the present and it’s the
only time that we have for certain. When
we see or hear of a soldier coming home from war, most important of all, let’s
remember to give them a heartfelt, “Thank you . . . and . . . Welcome Home!”
Pamela Perry Blaine
January, 2006
*Link to a site for more information on
ways to support our troops:
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.htm
Several 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.htm
Send Pam an e-mail and let her know what you thought of her story: pamyblaine@blaines.us
My Website:
http://blaines.us/PamyPlace.htm
~**~**~
ValueSpeak
A Weekly Column
By Joseph Walker
Valuespeak@msn.com
TAKING THE MODERN WORLD ON OUR OWN TERMS
I didn’t know it at the time, but it was my last summer living at home
with Mom and Dad.
Within months I would get practically engaged to my high school
sweetheart, then unengaged from her, and then get practically engaged to her
again, then unengaged from her again (hey, at least I was consistent in my
inconsistency). And then I met Anita, a delightfully charming college
freshman with saucer-sized eyes, and my life at home with my parents was over.
It was the end of an era for me, of course. But it was the end of
an even longer era for them. I was the youngest of their eight children,
and the last to leave home. For 39 of their 40 years together to that
point, there had always been at least one child underfoot. Now it would
just be the two of them. And within a startlingly short five years, it
would just be Dad.
I would like to be able to tell you that I cherished every moment of that
last summer with Mom and Dad. But I was 20-something, and 20-something
guys have the emotional sensitivity of a rock. Don’t get me wrong – I
enjoyed my relationship with Mom and Dad. It was unique among my brothers
and sisters because I had pretty much had my parents to myself since high
school. But by the time my last summer at home rolled around, I figured I
had learned everything I could learn from them, and now it was up to me to
teach them about life in the modern world and to bring them – kicking and
screaming, if need be – into the 20th Century before I moved on.
Take music, for example. While Dad enjoyed any music that included
a slide trombone (which meant he was down with Chicago and Blood,
Sweat and Tears), Mom drew the line at anything sung by a male with long
hair. She personally fought the British Invasion into pop music by
refusing to allow us to watch the horrifyingly mop-toped Beatles on Ed Sullivan
(although I think she did let us fire up the ol’ Motorola long enough to catch
the comedy of Topo Gigio, an Italian mouse with – not coincidentally – short
hair).
She did have a few kind words to say about the Byrds when she realized
that the words to “Turn, Turn, Turn” were from Ecclesiastes. “Any group
that quotes from the Bible can’t be all bad,” Mom said. But then she saw
their photo on the album jacket and the Byrds became just another flock of
long-haired modern musicians, unworthy of her interest or concern.
Which is why it surprised me when I heard her whistling a modern song as
she puttered around the house during my last summer at home (Mom had a
beautiful, rich alto singing voice, which she used at church and in the car
during long trips, but when she puttered she whistled).
“Mom,” I said, “do you know the name of that song?”
“Yes,” she said. “I heard it on the radio. It’s called
`Afternoon Delight’.”
I was stunned, especially since I knew the words to the song (hey, I was
a big Starland Vocal Band fan). “Do you know what the song is about?” I
asked.
She paused her puttering long enough to roll her eyes. “Of course I
do,” she said.
“And you still . . . you know . . . like the song?”
“It’s catchy,” she said, resuming her puttering. “Plus, the couple
in the song is married.”
I was going to ask how she knew that, but she cut me off.
“I saw a picture of the singers in the newspaper,” she said. “They look
nice.”
I understood. “In other words, the guys have short hair?” I asked.
She didn’t say anything. She just smiled and started whistling
again.
And that’s when it hit me: I didn’t need to drag Mom into the 20th
Century. She was already there. But she was there entirely on her
own terms. And I could leave home knowing that Mom and Dad would get
along just fine in the modern world without me.
As long as there was an occasional short-haired singer.
~**~**~
What
Is A Father?
By
Janice Finley Arab, Al.
A father is a person who is
forced to endure childbirth without an anesthetic. He growls when he feels good
and laughs very loud when he is scared half-to-death.
A father never feels entirely
worthy of the worship in a child's eyes. He is never quite the hero his
daughter thinks. Never quite the man his son believes him to be. And this
worries him sometimes. (So he works too hard to try to smooth the rough places in
the road of those of his own who will follow him.)
A father is a person who goes
to war sometimes... and would run the other way except that war is part of an
important job in his life (which is making the world better for his children
than it has been for him).
Fathers grow older faster
than other people, because they, in other wars, have to stand at the airport
and wave goodbye to the uniform that climbs on board the plane.
And, while mothers cry where
it shows, fathers stand and beam... outside... as they endure the pain inside.
Fathers are men who give
daughters away to other men who aren't nearly good enough, so that they can
have children that are smarter than anybody's.
Fathers fight dragons almost
daily. They hurry away from the breakfast table off to the arena, which is
sometimes called an office or a workshop. There they tackle the dragon with
three heads: Weariness, Works, and Monotony. And they never quite win the
fight, but they never give up.
Knights in shining armor;
fathers in shiny trousers. There's little difference as they march away each
workday.
And when a Father passes
away, and after a good rest, he won't just sit on a cloud and wait for the girl
he's loved and the children she bore. He'll be busy there too... repairing the
stars, oiling the gates, and in general helping smooth the way for others.
Janice Finley
finleyj@otelco.net
Poetry Section
~**~**~
The Oddest Things
Joyce C. Lock
Money, houses, cars, and
their dreams -
People chase after the oddest of things.
A boat, cabin, truck, or a farm -
Or ladies dangling upon each arm…
Alcohol, parties, power, or greed;
Not one of these ever fulfills your need.
© by Joyce C. Lock
~**~**~
The Place to Be
Joyce C. Lock
The
Garden of Eden * Sweet Hour of Prayer
The Place to Be * In the MASTER'S Care.
Walking With God * Away From the Tempter's Snare.
Throughout Eternity * His Love to Share.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Step at a Time We Climb His Golden Stairs.
© by Joyce C. Lock
~**~**~
The Real Thing
Joyce C. Lock
How do we love Thee, Oh,
Lord?
Let us count the ways.
We're loving you when we worship you,
Praise you, and our service is for you.
We're loving you when we're honest,
Open, and real.
We're loving you when we walk with you,
Talk with you, and glean upon your every word.
We're loving you when we have compassion,
Show mercy, and forgive.
We're loving you when we believe in you,
Wait upon you, and take steps of faith.
We're loving you when we're meek, humble,
And are not offended with another's weakness.
We're loving you when we seek you,
Obey you, and see things through your eyes.
We're loving you when we keep our heart,
Actions, and motives pure.
We're loving you when we meet needs,
Give you credit, and allow you first place.
We're loving you when we don't see stature,
Gender, religion, education, or color.
We love you in, oh, so many ways, Lord.
But, when we love you enough to feed your sheep,
IT'S THE REAL THING.
© by Joyce
C. Lock
Readers Feedback
March 25 - Loved every issue of this story (Loren Moore
and Clara Westerfer saga). Wish now I'd printed the whole thing. Is
it true or fiction? Donna K Becker
Senior Writers
Chief writer: Sharon Bryant
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; Marlor,
Janice Bumbalough; 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;
Westerfer, Clara; Wainland, David; White
Robert;
Storytime Tapestry Staff
Carol Roach -
Founder/publisher
Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder,
Moderator
Clara Westerfer – moderator
Bob Johnston - moderator
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