Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

June 18, 2006

Fathers Day Stories

Today’s announcements

Happy Fathers Day one and all.

Happy birthday wish goes out to our English writer, Nick Bentley, you can reach him at CharlBent@aol.com to send out cards.  Nick has had a pretty rough year and I am sure he would appreciate hearing from you.

Today, we Welcome Daphne Anne Lubojacky as writer #337 for Storytime Tapestry.  Daphne is a friend of Mary Carter Mizrany.  Don’t forget to welcome her in the Storytime Tapestry special way.  You can reach her through Mary, (her email is below)

Go to this link and order your free bracelet - it costs you nothing,

but for everyone that is ordered, Merck Pharmaceuticals donates $1 for

cervical cancer research. It only takes a minute.

Please note, cervical cancer is the second most common cancer in women.

<http://www.maketheconnection.org/

From Bill Walker

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LovingJesusEnjoyingLifeOutreach

This is a Christian group.. Christian that is.  Clean jokes, stories, poems.   You can write in to join if you like.

I got asked to join,, they don't know me to well do they?   I wrote in and asked how my friends could get on the list.  They were kind enough to say you got friends other then dogs. well here is the way.

Bill Walker

 Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write

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

Now onto the good stuff!

A Father’s Day Blessing: Update on Mark’s Day

Ginger Boda

Amazing Grace ... is all that comes to my mind right now!  And so, with a grateful heart I write this update to each of you. 

Mark's Dad is being discharged from the hospital on Monday afternoon to go home!  Yessireee, he has improved way beyond our imagination.  He will be sent home with a walker and oxygen tank, but he already went for two days straight without needing ANY extra oxygen at all!  The Christian surgeon who took care of his collapsed lung, as well as his heart doctor will see him now in follow up visits, while he gets to enjoy the comforts of home!  This Father's Day will be a gift in itself, to say the least.

I tell you, from knocking on death's door to being able to walk out on his decking at home and watch the sunset, Dad has been given Amazing Grace!  We, the family, are completely elated about this news, and just had to send a "Big Thank You" out to all of you who have been so faithful to pray for Mel.  Your kind and thoughtful emails and phone calls have been a major support to us through this scary time.  Mark's Mom, Audrey, sends a sincere thank you for all your prayers, as well.  And we all praise God for his mercy, that endures forever. 

May God Bless you immensely, for standing along side us through this family crisis!

Ginger Boda

rhymerbabe@aol.com

~**~**~

A Turning of the Seasons

Louise Nomani

     The fog is heavy in the morning light, but I can see through it; and the colors are intense and happiness is enveloping.  Seven is capturing his rehab, and the cadence of his hoof beats is music to my ears.

        I have come through Memorial Day, and my tears mark the passing of many...  The losses are the scrooge of old age. “Willow Weep for Me”.    The song haunts me, and Frank Sinatra’s rendition still fills my ears.  He is also gone.

        I look around this old farm, and there are chips and flakes of heaven littering the grounds. The Lilacs are fragrant, and the red Honeysuckle bushes are beautiful against the evergreens.  Pink Flowering Almond and White Spirea are dainty and stylish, almost like teenagers in high heels.  There is the shell pink of Northern Lights Azaleas and the robust fuchsia pink and purple of Rhododendrons.  The blossoms of apple and pear trees are fading and the Flowering Crabs have dropped their light, but, my goodness, the Peonies are heavy in bud and I can’t wait to fill an old crockery vase with an armful of their sweetness.

     The flower gardens are busting at the seams and waves of deep purple Siberian Iris are holding court over Scarlet Oriental Poppies that are garish with silk petals and black stamens that dance like little devils doing a fire dance. There is much excitement as they push and shove each other stealing a little territory wherever weeds are pulled.

         I think I have planted a living memorial of so many that I loved.  I have Peonies now huge that were started from root division of mom’s beloved bushes.  I have Iris and Lilies from her garden and other’s.  My father loved the deep purple of Iris and the purple of the Lilacs. He loved the sweetness and the deep purple of Violets too and I have many of these that have spread their roots into neighboring lawn.  Father would not have minded and I do not mind either.

     Father served in the Pacific on a destroyer during World War II. I remember the blackouts but little else.  I have watched the movies.  My husband served in Vietnam.  My brother served pre Vietnam.  I served as a naive 2^nd Lt. at Walter Reed Army Hospital when the causalities of Vietnam flooded the floors of the hospital.  I learned much about the horror of broken bodies and broken minds.  War is Hell!  It is impossible to imagine the terror or the horror as we sit at the breakfast table with our morning coffee.  We do not hear our brave men cry  as we sit there, and we do not agonize at the heartbreak of their families as we glory in the beauty of the sunrise   We do not hear the children either, their cries of terror and loss.  They are always war’s greatest causalities.  How will they ever come to love us?  Does it matter?

     The tribute of Memorial Day is not nearly enough.  My heart is broken at the inhumanity of mankind, but we must march forward one day at a time. We must hope.

    Well, my roses are not yet blooming, but they are promising me joyous color and fragrance.  I have shared their runners with valued friends, some of whom have since departed; but the strength and beauty of the Roses reminds me that all life has a cycle, and spring returns year after year.

 I have planted seeds and marveled at the honking of geese as they make their way north.  The Robins, Orioles, Bluebirds, Swallows, Hummingbirds and many others have returned and built nests. Their songs make a concert, and their concert hall is furnished with a wealth of green with the green of new grass, Willow green, Sap Green, Evergreen and so many hues of my favorite color that this place is almost too much perfection.  I am giddy with success.  The Lord surely is pleased with the chips and flakes of heaven that grace this small piece of earth. 

     “Weep no more my lady.”    I will dry my eyes even as I remember; I will celebrate the season.

Louise Nomani

~**~**~

Jack Of All Trades

Bill Walker

wildbill6807@yahoo.com

My dad when asked what kind of work he did, or was good at would sometimes answer. "Jack of all trades, master of none." I never could quite understand the meaning of that, I still don't for sure. I often wonder now at my stage of life if we all are not. Jack of all trades, really master of none.

Now  my dad worked long hours most of the time.  Hours unheard of today in his line of work. His pay was not all that great either. Sure nothing like people gets for the same type of work today. I as a small child, would get up of a morning, dad was gone to work, had been for at least a couple hours before.  Oh I was up around 7 in the morning.  He came home around  a little after 8 that evening. I might even be in bed by that time. This was 7 days a week, 365 days out if the year.  No vacations either, sick time, well if he got sick, I really never knew it.  Oh there was maybe 4 hours in the afternoon he was maybe home.  I might get to see him for a hour.

You see he was a Master Chef.  Cooked in hotels and such as that. He still said he was a Jack of all trades.  I one day kind of figured some of that out.

When he dropped out of high school, that is got the paper saying he was tops in his class. Also star football player, track star, and a few other stars  He went to work.   Heck he had been working for a couple years. He held a full time summer job where his dad was said to work.  It was farm work, for the state of Missouri. Now dad had the offer of going to the University of Missouri.  Star track, football and a few other stars in high school you know.  He said there was one problem.  Back in those days, schools of higher learning didn't bank roll a star like is done today.  He said he had to eat. So he went to learn how to be a Jack of all trades.

Went to the big city of Springfield. His town of Mt.Vernon, didn't have much to offer. He started out in what order I really don't know.  He went to work for a bakery, did that for a while.  Also went to work in a cafe, doing work I guess it was a kind of short order cooking.  Some where he picked up on how to cut meat. I guess now if it had anything to do with food he worked at it. That is fixing it up to be served to some one at a counter or table. As he would say he went to the college of hard knocks.

Did this for a few years, and one day a young flapper came to work at the same cafe he was cooking in. Well one day these two took a walk to the court house, and became man and wife. Mother said got  the paper to get hitched, and a preacher walked in the door as they were leaving.  He did the honors on the spot.  Man and wife, never to part till death takes us apart.

Times was tough back in those days.  Marriage took place in 1929,  the Wall Street crash came about.  There was times a man doing his kind of work, well any kind of work,, you hung on for what ever pay there was. He started moving about. From one place to another.  He had been in the big hotel of Springfield. The Colonial Hotel, he started to be known as the Chef.

He aways had the dreams of one day, his own cafe .  But the road was long and hard to doing so.  This dream came about in the 50s.  But I am getting ahead of the story a bit.  Back in the early 40s he took a job with Safeway Stores in Missouri.  After a few weeks a manager spot came open in the little city of Lexington, east of Kansas City.  He became the head meat cutter at that store.  Well there was one other person working the meat market. It was a small store. Besides meat was in a short supply.  Of all the stores in the Kansas City district, his market never dropped below ranking in profits less then the top five .  But his heart was else where, Cooking. 

One day a man came looking for him, wanted him to take over the kitchen at the Paddock Hotel in Beatrice. So another move was made.  Back to long hours, but it was his liking.  You stepped into that kitchen, it was his.  He ran it from soup to nuts. This went along till one day, he got an offer to step down to the Old Burwood Hotel.  Yes it was a step down, but there was also the offer, you like it it could be yours.  He worked there for about a year, got the lease on the place, and Chef Walker was now owner and operator of his own fine eating place.  A Jack of all trades was moving along.  Mother took over running the front end for a while.  Had 5 to 10 flappers as dad called them working out front.  Things rolled along pretty good, he was banking money, and not making it for someone else with long hours.  Also the place closed one full day a week.

Then came the day, something called health stepped in.  Doctor told him needed to be in some other kind of work,, more out door maybe.  He after some though sold out.  Thought about going else where, maybe would find a place to open up a small operation. 

I had returned from service, and had studied working on cars.. All at once he said Bill,, what say lets take a gas station.  You know cars a bit. It would be some outside air for him,, and so on.  Well we did that.  At first I wasn't to sure it would go.  In 10 years time we had 2 stations, 2 wreckers and a few working for us in both places.

This went along till December of 1967. A ice storm hit, and I mean ice. Well it was a mix of rain, ice and snow.  The roads was bad.  Got a call.  School bus and truck accident east of town.  Dad and a young fellow went out with the 16 ton Holmes Wrecker.  "Large or Small we Handle Them All Baby." 

He came home sick, went into the hospital, major stroke.  Died 2 days later.  Jack of all trades. Master of none..  Dad I beg to differ, you were master of a lot of trades.

I know one thing,  when it came to cooking,, ask him, he knew.  Pies and cakes was out of this world.  A slice of one of his pies was a topper for a fine meal at the old Burwood.  Why pie and coffee along set you back a whole quarter.

That was my DAD.  Ones Jenning Walker.  Don't call him that, it was either O.J. or Chef.  He hated his given name.  I asked one day if his folks was going to give the kids numbers instead of names. 

Bill Walker

wildbill6807@yahoo.com

 Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write

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

Poetry Section

~**~**~

 My Daddy's Hands
Daphne Anne Lubojacky

Long street down a quiet neighborhood
Trees hanging over creating an arch
Protecting those within the branches
A large hand stretches out

Grasping the trust of the little child
Gentle breeze swirls and time passes by...
The large hand steadies the handlebars
Releasing the entrusted and precious package

Another breeze and time passes by...
Large hand is clenching the passenger door...
As the new driver is forging onward
Gentle breeze returns and time passes by...

The large hand has reached out
For a lifetime of releasing
God's precious package...

Now the breeze has stopped blowing
And the child is stumbling
Praying for the breeze again
Yearning for that large outreached hand

Envisioning that symbol of comfort
That symbol of love...my Daddy's hands

Daphne Anne Lubojacky ©2003
Reprinted with author's permission

Thank you our precious angelsister, Daphne, for sharing this very touching tribute to your dad.  The loving influence upon your life shines through this thought~provoking poem.  I'm  sure  he is  smiling  upon  you  from Heaven, sweet  angelsister:-)

~**~**~

"HONOURING  MY  DADDY"
by:  Mary  Carter  Mizrany

Daddy wasn't perfect, (as none of us are), oh,
but he had some wonderful qualities:-) Daddy
knew how to turn a downcast face into a smile.
He knew very little about fixing gadgets & such:
Ahhhhh, but he could fix a disappointed "Princess"
with just a few words and a warm hug!

One of his many talents was weaving a GOOD
story for us. He was a grand teller of tales:-)
When daddy told his stories, it was
like a serial movie. "Jim & "Bob" were the
characters of "His Serial". What escapades he
could contrive for these two pals to keep his
children entertained and begging for more:-)]

One of the ways daddy pleased brother and me was like this . . .
every evening when he walked into our home from a long day's work,
he'd sit in his armchair.    Excitement rose as brother and I raced to
take off his shoes.   We knew "the secret" :-)
Daddy would hide a penny in one of his socks, you see, and,
just a simple thing like a penny was enough to bring giggles of
happiness to the 'lucky' one discovering it.
Ahhhhh,  my daddy knew how to get the undivided attention of his
children:-)

Daddy was an attorney by profession, highly
intelligent and dedicated. Sadly, his practice was
interrupted by WWII. When the Japanese bombed
Pearl Harbor, he enlisted in the Marine Corp,
eventually deployed to action in the Pacific
(Iwo Jima, in particular) and was there when the
American flag was raised in victory.

Daddy didn't talk to his children very much about the war.
He was such a sensitive man and, VERY protective.  I'm sure
he knew 'war stories' were too dreadful for small children to hear.

Throughout June I shall recall other lil' snippets
about my daddy with which to regale you ~ lol !
For now, let us visit with our Father's House for
awhile shall we?

~**~**~

         *^*F*A*T*H*E*R*S* ~*~*D*A*Y*^*
            *^*B*L*E*S*S*I*N*G*S*^*
Mary Carter Mizrany

Oh, our Almighty Sovereign Father, with whom
there is no variableness nor shadow of turning; we
lift our hearts and voices to you in praise and much
thanksgiving. In your presence, we find fullness of
joy, precious Father. In your presence, we are
refreshed until our cups run over. In your presence,
our strength is renewed like the eagle's ~ OH, bless
your Holy name~ Father of ALL mercies !!!

Lord God of ALL that is Holy, we seek your face
yearning to share intimacy with you: Yearning to
be found worthy through our Lord and Saviour,
Jesus Christ, to be vessels by whom others shall
be blessed, dear Father. Teach us thy ways, oh,
Lord, and keep our hearts and minds through Your
Spirit, we pray.

We lift every need to your throne of grace to obtain
mercy in our time of need, Heavenly Father. Many
need a brand~new touch of Your Spirit and awakening
of their dreams and visions, dear Father. For YOUR
WORD declares "Without a vision the people perish".
Many need direction for they've wandered from The Fold
and are longing for THE GOOD SHEPHERD'S arms
to pick them up and bathe them in HIS precious balm.
OH, beloved Jesus, we lift them to you right now
for you have said you will not cast them aside!

Thank you, our precious Father God, that we can
depend upon you and Your Everlasting Word. There
is NO GUESS~WORK with you, Father. Your Word
is YEA and AMEN ~ HALLELUJAH ! Let the CIRCLE
be UNBROKEN, dear Father, we pray ~ Lead us and
guide us each step of the way!

We send this prayer on wings of faith, believing you
hear and answer our prayers. Help us to wait upon
you patiently, for you've never let us down, sweet Father.
It is in that name above ALL others, our blessed Saviour's
name, JESUS CHRIST, we offer this prayer. Amen & Amen

Readers Feedback

June 13, 2006 – Such wonderful news about Mark’s father - Jene

Carol,

What a blessing you are!  Thank you so much for sharing my family updates with all of your readers.  I have been so uplifted by their responses to me.  I cannot thank them all enough for their prayers for our family. 

Today, Mark spoke with his Dad for quite a while after he got home from the hospital.  Dad said he really feels blessed.  He was happy to be able to sleep in his own bed tonight, and just to walk out onto his decking and look at the mountains.  They have a real nice place there in Arizona.  While he was out there, talking to Mark, he casually said, "Oh wow, there are a lot of weeds growing in our back yard ... I am gonna have to go out there and spray them tomorrow."  Mom heard him in the background, and pipes up with, "you can't go out and spray those weeds, goofy!"  Mark had to chuckle.  It is so amazing, that we are all still in awe of what God has done. Dad is walking around on his own, and does not even have to use the oxygen tank, nor the walker, that the doctors ordered for him.  WOW!  We still can't get over his quick recovery.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know how grateful I was for your extra effort in sharing my letters, and also to tell you how much I enjoyed your piece, A Single Fig.  I too, was a "landed immigrant" to British Columbia, Canada back when I got out of high school.  Of course I was not coming from some far land (just California), but I loved my year long stay in Vernon, BC and I have so many fond memories of the people there.  Mina had to overcome much more than I ever did, and my heart went out to her as you shared her story.  Good job in doing that, Carol.  It was truly touching.

Take care now, and thanks again.

Carol,
   You are such an angel.  Thanks so much for running young teachers today. 
My girl Beth is at
a summer program for six weeks and this was just what I needed today.  I
don't miss her so much now, knowing that she is brightening the lives of the
people there.  Wishing you every joy, Joe

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; Booher, Paula; Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.; Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark; Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria;

Dowd, Hartson; Gilbert, Robert, Jr.; Gold, Ron; Goodier, Steve; Braun-Haley, Ellie; Harris, Kathy Anne; Henry, Linda Ann; 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

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