Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

May 15, 2006

Today’s announcements

Today we welcome yet again another new writer, Marybeth Elliott, writer # 323 for Storytime Tapestry. Please give her the usual Storytime Tapestry welcome.

Nikki is undergoing the transplant as I'm typing.. please keep her in prayers... There could be a sudden reaction of rejection, but they don't think it will happen because it is her brother's bone marrow. Brother came out just great and is in recovery.... let you know what happens next... Love to all, Al

The emphasis right now is sometime in the future she should come into graft vs host disease... her body rejecting the transplant.. now, this is a bad thing, but it almost has to take place for the transplant to be a success. By rejecting the transplant, it shows that the bone marrow from her brother is actively killing off the cells produced by Nikki. At this time, they give her medicine which will counter act against the disease and cause her to have a complete new immune system which will defend her against any new cancer cells. So, that's where they're at right now. She came out of the transplant a minute ago and all went well in there. Thank you dear Lord!

Would you please say a little prayer for our grandson, Ainsworth,
age 3 1/2, who has autism, and has not really learned to talk.
It will take a miracle for him to talk. Thanks!!!

God bless you and your son and your ministry!
In His amazing love,
Frances

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Mother’s Day Stories

~**~**~

The Face of God
Marybeth Elliott

My mom just had open heart surgery yesterday, and thank God she is doing
okay. For those who read here, your prayers for her are deeply
appreciated and welcomed as she begins a long recovery, due to her
advanced age and other health concerns.

God's kindness during times of trial is vast and unending. In our
humanity, we tend to be concrete thinkers, and we claim and cling to
miracles we can readily see. While all miracles and good things are
blessings from God, I wonder if we sometimes miss the subtle kindness of
a Creator whose quiet intelligence envelops our fear. How often have I
walked by a simple mercy the Father has placed in my path? In my mom's
case, coming through the surgery was quite a gift, and one that we can
identify. However, during the time of waiting and prayer, as those who
love her went throughout the day, I can't help but wonder how many times
God's golden cord of mercy touched us from His Throne. How many times do
I bypass the face of God in any given day? How many times do I miss the
kindness in the eyes that regard me? How often do I overlook the face
whose resemblance I bear?

We got a new puppy, and we have two kittens and a cat. These are
welcomed additions to our family, and a choice we made. However, timing
is always an important element! All of these events coincided to bring
them together for the first time on Monday afternoon. Tuesday morning as
I was playing mediator between a cat and a 20 lb. puppy, as I was taking
this pup out every hour to begin training him, as I was catching up on
laundry, emptying suitcases from our trip, and putting a stop to
bickering between two boys who were arguing over who gets to play with
the puppy, the thought crossed my mind that a Therapist on speed dial
might be a good move!

It wasn't so much the dealing with all of these events; it was the fact
that I and I alone, had CHOSEN to do all of this at once..that was where
the question of prodigal brain cells entered....when oh when would my
common sense return home?

I cleaned and prayed, cleaned up after a pup who missed, and prayed.
Broke up bickering and did laundry, and prayed. Reminded the boys to
pray, and prayed some more. And throughout this day the Face of God
remained in my full view. The miracle of this was almost unnoticed by
me. The Grace and the Gift of peace God gave to me did not come in a
recognizable box. It came through the busyness of the household. It came
through the cat's hissing at the dog, and the pup's high-pitched bark at
the cat. Why? Because God who is Almighty God is faithful. I asked Him
to keep my mind and my thoughts and my heart steady throughout this day.
I determined in my heart that regardless of this outcome, I would honor
my mom by doing what she taught me to do with grace and profound
dignity. I would not allow fear to be the victor; rather I would seek
the Father's Face and find peace. His peace was found. It dwelled within
the trusting eyes of a large pup, a beautiful pup who has a tail wag for
me at every turn. It purred in the rubbing of the cat against my legs
and expressed itself in the picture my youngest drew of
something-resembling-me that said Mom, I Love You.

God kept my heart steady and reminded me often of the best way to honor
Him, and my mom. And that was simply to be busy doing what He has called
me to do first. I am a mom first. I am a caretaker of my children's
hearts and a source of their safety. Their concern over their
Grandmother reached the Father. And in swiftness of Love, and surety of
faithfulness, He responded to their care. His Face was seen in the face
of these pets my children love. The timing humanly-speaking, was
challenging. Heavenly-speaking the timing was perfect.

Hissing, meowing, barking, bickering.....perfect peace. The day passed,
and my mom survived. The cats and dog continue to warily regard one
another and this will also pass. But God answered our prayer in a
miraculous way that I almost missed. He entered into our humanity, which
He does daily, and He met our hearts' need in a way designed personally
for us. The Face of God was seen by me while the Hand of God remained on
my mom. In all, the miracles we were given yesterday far surpass any
orderliness and peace I have ever known. The next time I hope I remember
that miracles and gifts and peace come in ways I may least expect, but
that will most meet my point of need. And meanwhile, the Face of God
intently watches me and mine, while standing vigil over a precious saint
in ICU 500 miles away.

Marybeth Elliott
meeee@comcast.net

http://feminine-warrior.blog-city.com/read/prev/1407257.htm

http://feminine-warrior.blog-city.com/
http://feminine-warrior.blog-city.com/read/next/1407257.htm
http://feminine-warrior.blog-city.com/the_face_of_god.htm

~**~**~

A Mother's Heart

Marybeth Elliott
meeee@comcast.net
http://feminine-warrior.blog-city.com/a_mothers_heart_a_sons_gift.htm

Happy Easter! Now that the day is almost done, my youngest son asked if
I would take him to the local school's playground. It is a great
playground with lots of fun things to do. One piece of equipment in
particular is a favorite, and is safe, but the children are taught how
to climb this properly. It looks like a pyramid and the younger
children aren't allowed to climb on it.

I was watching him as he made his way to the top. The very top. His
shadow reflected off of the school building and he balanced himself with
one hand so he could make shadow puppets with the other....not exactly a
pleasing sight to this mom! He came down, and ran to me victoriously
proud that he had made it to the top. Needless to add, we had a
conversation about holding on with both hands!

This mother's heart felt concern. It crossed my mind how small this is
compared to the brokenness of another mother's heart so many years
ago...the heart of Mary. The young teenager who had given birth to the
Hope of the world now watched the promise being fulfilled. The joy of
being his mother was intermingled with the pain of being his mother at
such a time as this. We can easily accept the crown He will one day
give to us, but we can only accept that crown if we can accept the crown
of thorns that pushed the painful cutting sharpness through the precious
flesh. One crown for another. But one is not exclusive of the other;
we cannot have a crown of jewels without understanding we deserve a
crown of thorns.

We may wonder how we deserve this crown. Many of us try to live good
and moral lives and do no harm to others. We were not there, and we did
not crucify this Lord. So why do we deserve a crown of thorns? Because
the moment sin enters our life in any shape or form, we are separated
from the fellowship of the Father. If we have broken one commandment,
we have broken them all. None of us are without sin and the Father
loves us too much to allow us to remain broken and separated from His
love and protection. So His provision came in the form of His own
beloved Son, the Christ. He took on the sins; He spoke victory and
conquering love over the grip of death that had stolen our hearts. He
wore the crown of thorns so we were restored to communion with the Father.

I think of Mary. How angry she must have been. How hurt, betrayed,
sorrowful, aching with agony, gut-crying angry. Think of it. My eyes
were transfixed upon my youngest up so high. Mary's eyes must have
been burned into the image of her son upon that Cross, brought so low so
He may raise us so high. The human side of Mary must have railed at all
she felt. But Mary knew Who her son was. Mary knew. Mary, mother to
the Lord Jesus Christ, a mother first and a mother always. Mary, who
watched the life blood spill that had been formed in her womb. Mary had
sustained His life when she carried Him, so His death and resurrection
could sustain and carry her. Mary gave Him life, and He gave life to
the world. Mary observed the pain in the eyes that held love and
compassion for all, even His executors. Mary beheld the body which was
dying in order that He may be glorified. Mary witnessed it all. This
mother's heart stood by her son and did not allow Him to die without
her. She had seen Him safely into the world, and her love would remain
by His side. The Savior's eyes beheld His mother and adored her. The
Savior's gift was for her, as well as for all humankind.

A mother's heart and a son's gift. A bond that cannot be broken and
will not be stilled. A commitment and a vow, as deep as any cord of
love ever tied. It is a refusal to be separated and a fierce
determination to remain by the beloved. These attributes describe Mary
but when we look at them closely, they describe the Son. A bond that
cannot be broken and will not be stilled. That Cross was a commitment
and a vow, as deep as any cord of love ever tied. The Father's refusal
to be separated from His children, and His fierce determination to
remain by us, His beloved. To that end, He provided His Son to show us
the way Home. Jesus was Mary's son and He was also her Lord.

My son is safely home and is tucked away in the shower at the moment.
My son was full of joy at his conquering of this great height, and he is
a bit more confident than he was an hour ago. My son is safe because
the Father's Son conquered everything that could hold my son captive.
My son has a chance at life because the Savior gave him one. My son has
life abundantly and a future full of hope because Mary's son willingly
gave His up. And life abundant is freely offered to all.

Easter is not a day; Easter dawns in the heart and rises over a lifetime
of a faithwalk. Easter is a way of life, and Easter is the way to life.

~**~**~

Missy: The Surrogate Mother

Lynn Stevenson

This isn't one of those schmaltzy Mother's Day stories complete with tales of wine, red roses, and songs. This is a tribute to one of the sweetest displays of maternal affection I've ever witnessed from a pup who was denied the opportunity to become a mother herself, but unselfishly helped her own mother nurture and love her second litter, even attempting to nurse them herself when the newborn pups cried with hunger.

Missy, my 5 year old fawn Chinese Pug was the runt of her litter. She and her older black brother (by about 10 minutes or so) Ed were the two remaining pups from our Samantha's first litter. They were both spayed (in Ed's case, neutered and spayed both) at the age of three months. There was no way I wanted to risk Missy having pups by either her father or brother, and I knew that spaying her was also medically beneficial on other levels.

When Missy and Ed were 14 months old their mother delivered her second litter of pups. There were seven squirming and wiggly little creatures who sounded vaguely like kittens meowing when they cried. Three of them were solid black and the other four were fawn with black masks. Out of my other four dogs, only Missy showed any real interest in them. Of course, Samantha stayed with them and nursed them when she had to, otherwise, especially when they began the arduous process of teething, she tried her best to runaway from them and hide at every opportunity.

Missy would hop in the brown cardboard box whenever Samantha would vacate it. She would lie down with the pups, lovingly grooming their shiny fur and allowing them to nurse on her nonexistent teats. My husband couldn't believe it when he witnessed this for the first time when the pups were a couple of days old. There were several of the pups that Missy got attached to and she treated them as if she was their real mother, not Sammy. This went on until the pups were large enough to go to their new homes, between the ages of 7 and 12 weeks.

Within a couple of days of the last puppy going to its new home, Samantha began losing excessive amounts of her glossy ebony coat. I thought she was seriously ill and took her to the vet for a checkup. She said that Sammy was in the grieving process because she missed her latest litter of pups! This came as a shock because I thought that Samantha was glad to finally be rid of them. I had to go buy some Tegrin Shampoo to bathe her and I was told that if she didn't get any better to bring her back and the vet would run medical tests on her.

Oddly enough, Missy was the one that I was the most worried about after the pups were gone. She didn't shed excessively like her mother did, but she did brood around the house, checking everywhere she could think of for "her babies." I never heard her howl or cry while she nervously searched throughout the house for the pups, but I know she grieved for them in her own way.

About a year ago my son took Missy to see one of the "babies" she got attached to and she picked up right where they left off. Even though the other pup was now more than twice her size and could have easily hurt her if he had wanted, he settled down beside her and allowed her to clean him like the good old days. I believe they both recognized each other and knew that they weren't a threat to each other. Missy didn't want to leave when it was time to come home and her brother Pudgey wanted to come home with her, even attempting to sneak into the car. It is about time for them to have another visit very soon.

I'm sure Missy hasn't forgotten him and I doubt Pudgey has forgotten her, his surrogate mother!

Lynne Stevenson

Pugsmom37@aol.com

Mother’s Day Poetry Section

~**~**~

Pastime
Joan Clifton Costner

Grandma had a china closet.
There, within the shelf,
Lay some treasures she’d collected;
Happiness to help.

On a gloomy winter day,
Out would come the tea set;
Black and shiny tea pot,
Tiny cups not full yet.

She would make a special fuss,
Bring out real sweet cream,
Pour the hot tea in our cups;
Make the gloomy bright, it seemed.

Tricks with string upon our fingers,
Humming buttons, too;
Soap and spool would make a bubble
With a rainbow just for you!

Folds of paper, snipping scissors,
For delighted little fans;
Such a cunning little trick ~
Revealing children holding hands!

How we passed the time, in those days,
No arcade or movie wall;
Making do with simple treasures,
Blessing us as we recall.

© 2003 by Joan Clifton Costner

My name is Joan Clifton Costner, email, jody@ptsi.net

Thank you Carol.

Blessings,

Joan

http://underhiswings0.tripod.com
http://www.heavenlypoetry.com

My email address: jody@ptsi.net

~**~**~

Snapshot
Joan Clifton Costner

It was only a silly old snapshot
And Mother had said, that day,
That she wished we wouldn't take it.
She wished we would throw it away.

The wind in her hair made it fuzzy
And the sun was bright in her eyes.
But, we were glad we had captured,
On film, one so camera-shy.

Often thereafter, we begged her
To let us try one more shot.
But, she was so full of excuses.
And later on, we just forgot.

Weeks slip away into seasons
And seasons, too soon, become years.
Life's silver thread is so fragile.
Passing brings so many tears!

But, I came, once again, 'cross the picture,
That she said we never could take,
And I'm thankful to God, up in Heaven,
She gave in, just for our sake.

For, the wind in her hair seemed so proper
And the sun gave a gleam to her eyes.
I treasure a dear piece of paper,
Remembrance of earth's finest prize!

© by Joan Clifton Costner

http://underhiswings0.tripod.com

~**~**~

Readers Feedback

Comments from May 12, 2006

I had written to Helen Dowd several times, and she wrote back to me. She had the same name as my older sister, that passed away many years ago. My sister was like Helen, very giving in love and advice. She will be missed. May GOD bless the family.

Susan Roberts

My mother was engrossed in a book, when David tapped her shoulder and stared down at her face. Her first absent-minded, “What is it, Honey?” gave way to astonishment when she realized that David was looking intently AT HER. She held her breath, and David said the magic words that she’d waited so long to hear. “I love you, Mommy,” echoed in the room as she gathered him in her arms.

~**~**~

Thank you Dafna. This is a beautiful story. I have an autistic grandson who was only viable one week

before his birth and he is making tremendous progress

Carol, we need your prayers. My (baby) brother Jeff has just been diagnosed with Chronic Leukemia. Debra Shiveley: merribuck@merribuck.com

Thank you S K, it means so much to know when someone enjoys my writing. It truly does, Thanks! Thank you to Carol also for allowing me to be a part of the "Stortime" family.I know that she puts a lot of work and heart into it. Good day to all!

Mary M. Dees

Thank you Jene for you comment on my writing. It fuels my heart to know that someone enjoys it..Thanks! Mary M. Dees

Paula your prayer poem for Nikki - Just beautiful! ...........I'm very sorry of the pain that each of you are having to endure. God is with you, he is always with you. Mary M. Dees

Senior Writers

Chief writer: Sharon Bryant

Chief researcher/historian: Hartson Dowd

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;

Wainland, David; Westerfer, Clara; White Robert;

Storytime Tapestry Staff

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer – moderator

Bob Johnson - moderator