Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

May 22, 2006

Today’s announcements

Don’t forget to order your copy of Vance Agee’s new book, which is a fund raiser for Storytime Tapestry; Order through me at $8.00 + shipping and handling.

Dear Carol,
Thank you so very much for putting our prayer request for little Ainsworth
in your wonderful newsletter!  Please also pray for the many, many other
children who have autism.  Pray that there would be a cure and healing
for ALL of these precious children.  Thank you so very much for caring,
and most especially, for taking time to lift these requests up to our
Heavenly Father.  God bless you!  In Jesus' all-powerful Name I pray, Amen.
In amazing love,
Frances

Hwy mom, it's Nikki......I got all of the prayers and good words that you  sent to me mom, and I thought maybe you could give this to all of your MANY friends and online buds. 

THANK YOU all soooo much for all of the prayers and good words, they are definitely working.  I appreciate everybody being there for me so much.  And actually today, my white blood calls hit zero , and yes I am still felling great........THANK GOD!  Anyways, I'm keeping everyone in my thank you prayers as well and I am especially praying for you because with all the emails and cards, it has made things go a lot quicker and be a lot more enjoyable knowing that even though I am here right now by myself, everyone is still thinking about me.   Hugs and kisses to everybody........Nikki

Thanks mom.. you know I love you..

Happy Birthday Bobby Smith 

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Mother’s Day Stories

~**~**~

ValueSpeak

A Weekly Column

By Joseph Walker

Valuespeak@msn.com

MOTHER OF THE HOME

Joe Walker

            I only saw my mother mad once.

            OK, OK – to my brothers and sisters who are reading this, you can stop laughing now.  That was a little inside joke for you guys, selfishly imposed on millions (OK, dozens) of readers out there in honor of Mother’s Day.

            The fact is, Mom was . . . um . . . shall we say volatile?  Outspoken would be another good word.  It was said at her funeral that you always knew where you stood with Mom.  What wasn’t said – but was thought by everyone there – was: “Whether you wanted to know or not.”

            Don’t get me wrong.  Mom was also all of those lovely virtues Hallmark tosses around every Mother’s Day.  She was sweet.  She was kind.  She was compassionate.  She was loving.  But she was all those things in her own inimitable way.

            Take “loving,” for example.  Mom loved her family fiercely.  She was like a lioness, and we were her pride.  And like a lioness, she would occasionally cuff a cub for getting out of line.  Once she blamed my brother Bud for an earthquake – she figured it was Bud doing something he shouldn’t be doing in the basement.  And he got . . you know . . cuffed for it – gently, I’m sure (YOU GUYS STOP LAUGHING!).  But there were no apologies when she found out about the earthquake later.  She just said: “I’m sure he deserved it for something.”  And that was that.

            But if anyone ever said or did anything against one of her children – including Bud, cuffing or no cuffing – the fangs were bared and the claws came out.

Which brings me back to the time I saw her mad – you know, the one I mentioned earlier.  It was Mother’s Day, and my sister was in tears (I won’t say which of my sisters this story involves because I don’t believe in holding family up for public ridicule).  (KATHY, IF YOU DON’T STOP LAUGHING I’M GOING TO TELL EVERYONE HOW OLD YOU ARE!)

Evidently, my sister had teasingly asked her husband (and I just want to say categorically that I adore all of my brothers-in-law, and this is truly no reflection upon them, collectively or individually, no matter what my mother said) what he was going to get her for Mother’s Day.  He replied with a blank stare: “I wasn’t planning on getting anything for you from me.”

My sister was hurt.  “Why not?” she asked.

“Because,” he replied matter-of-factly, “you’re not my mother.”

This is the point at which the smoke started curling out of my mother’s ears.  Her eyes, usually bright and expressive, narrowed into tiny slits.  “But you are the mother of his children,” she said in a voice that was husky and cold.  “You are the mother in his home.  If he can’t respect and honor that on this one special day . . .”

Her voice trailed off, but I think she said something about feeding him to the lions.

As I cowered behind the laundry hamper (this didn’t seem to be a good time to be male and visible), it occurred to me that it wasn’t just my sister to whom this slight was personal.  And it wasn’t about gifts – it was about respect.  For Mom, motherhood wasn’t just a biological fact.  It was omnipresent, embracing and enriching every aspect of her life.  Nor was motherhood something that happened one day in a delivery room.  It was something that happens every day in a kitchen, and in a living room, and in a child’s bedroom and in every room of the house.

I don’t remember what happened as a consequence of that discussion between my mother and my sister, although I’m pleased to report that my brother-in-law survived and has actually become an outstanding Mother’s Day observer.  Yes, he gives my sister nice gifts.  But more, he honors and respects her as the mother of his children and the mother in his home.

Mom would be proud, I think.  At least, she wouldn’t be mad.

Mother’s Day Poetry Section

~**~**~

~ MOM ~
Tim Kevin

I remember that first flower I brought to you
That I stumbled upon along the forest track
Happily accepting it as a rose though you knew
It was just a dandelion I had hidden in my sack
-
I remember you said wait til it turned to grey
I could blow it's petals like wishes into the wind
Into the air to fly like feathers on a windy day
To return as a dream some day you grinned
-
I remember falling and scraping my knee
You treating it with iodine making it burn
Said it was a BooBoo and you'd fix it for me
Kiss it away you did, your magic I'd soon learn
-
I remember that first scary day of school
When you got me to laugh away my fears
And taught me how to use laughter as a tool
You, always helping me to get thru those years
-
I remember your friends you introduced to me
The Donald, Mickey, Jack and Giant up a stalk,
Alice, Pam an Poo, in books just for me to see
You opening up a world for me, to read an talk
-
I remember others, like Santa, in a mall seen
And Xmas cookies, boy do I love those cookies
A Bunny with colored eggs, and our Halloween, Family traditions passed
on for many holidays
-
I remember seeking your console as I grew,
The many problems I brought that you solved
Quite often with a few tears along the way too
Thanks for the sins an infractions you absolved
-
I remember seeing the pride in your face
When I left home to continue my education
And a worry when I fell a bit behind the pace
You wondering what could be the distraction
-
I remember bringing my lovely distraction home And the uncertainty and
questions in your look
As if I had asked you to decipher a heavy tome
You both now know the other like an open book -
I remember your happiness the day we wed
The help offered with starting our young family
And your care with the many things left unsaid
The joy I sensed with you becoming a granny
-
I remember that this it's your day to celebrate
But for us all it's a shared happiness symptom
Of all the good things motherhood can create
I remembered to tell ya, "I LOVE YOU MOM"
-
By the Irish Warlock
Copyright © 05-2006 Irish Warlock, All Rights Reserved.
-
SUBMITTED BY TIM KEVIN,
THE IRISHWARLOCK

irishwarlock@webtv.net

~**~**~

My Mother

Sharlett Hunt

The sorrow of unhappy years

Was etched upon her face,

My body aches, just one more time,

To feel her warm embrace.

When I was still a young child,

I really couldn't see,

How very much this woman

Would come to mean to me.

Growing up was hard for me,

For she was never there,

I always thought, in my child's mind,

That she just didn't care.

As years creep slowly by now,

I've grown to understand,

The way our lives were intertwined

Had long ago been planned.

She lies beneath the cold, cold ground,

And never knew how much

I love and miss her more each day,

And long to feel her touch.

Though now she's just a memory,

That never will depart,

These words should mark her gravesite,

"Within Here Lies My Heart."

Sharlett Hunt

Sharlette863 @aol.com


About Me:

I was born in Alabama, the middle of seven children. At about age four we moved to Central Florida and I have lived here most of my life. I am a Viet Nam Era Veteran. I have always enjoyed writing and as I get older it seems to come more naturally to me. I believe everyone has many stories inside them and some are blessed to be able to share them.

~**~**~

Happy Mother's Day

Dianna Doles Petry

I came into your life at a time when you thought you were done with babies,

Done with chasing a toddler trying to run before she learned to walk,

Wearing clothes that didn't show spit-up stains, finally able to wear heels,

Looking forward to having friends over to sit quietly and have a talk.

Still, you held me in your arms and welcomed me into your life,

Taught me as I grew and protected me from anything that threatened me,

You made me laugh when I felt lonely and dried my tears when I cried,

You showed me what becoming a mother was really meant to be.

When I carried my first born child, you told me that it wouldn't all be fun,

I laughed then, thinking that I could overcome anything that came my way,

Not knowing how many times I would fall to my knees to ask for guidance,

How many joys I would receive by just watching my child at play.

One day, I heard myself say to my own child, "Eat everything on that plate."

"There are starving children in this world who would be glad to have food to eat."

I knew right that moment that I would follow your steps again as the days passed,

I wanted my children to grow up the way I had done with a mother just as sweet.

So today, as we celebrate Mother's Day, I am on both ends of the occasion,

I am lucky enough to have my mother and to be someone else's mother too.

I am still learning and still eager to teach the things that I have already learned,

Just as any woman lucky enough to wear the title of "Mother" is happy to do.

Love,

Dianna Doles Petry

5/14/2006

http://diannapetry.tripod.com
http://members.tripod.com/~poemsbydianna/PoetryofLife.html
www.womenwithauniquesoul.com

Readers Feedback

Comments from May 16, 2006:

Ms. Joan, what a beautiful story to a more than worthy mother. You did a magnificent job of remembering her so well that I could feel her presence and see her eyes. I can't imagine that she could have been any more proud of you. You have a wonderful talent for writing. Thank you for sharing so intimately with us. Be blessed always,   Tami B.

Prayer Requests and Updates

Comments from May 17, 2006

Just a short note to let all of the writers here know how much I have enjoyed each and every one of the Mother's Day stories. Our youth passes by very quickly and by the time we really start to appreciate all of our mother's love and sacrifices, we often find ourselves becoming a caretaker to them. Thanks to each and every one of you who have opened your hearts to share your mothers with all of us who read the Tapestry.

Dianna Doles Petry

dianna59@charter.net

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