Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

June 28, 2006

Today’s announcements

GOOD NEWS
God works in our lives and sometimes it is by using strangers.
This is what happened to me.
A LADY I HAD NEVER MET CONTACTED ME A FEW MONTHS BACK.
She had heard of the book, A LITTLE DOOR, A LITTLE LIGHT and went looking for it, WELL, she had trouble finding it. Eventually she tracked me down and she got the book. But then she said God impressed on her to help market the book. She spoke to me about it and I thought "how marvelous, yes please HELP!" (of course I believe the book is meant to help others. It is meant to plant seeds of HOPE! So of course I want thousands to find it and read it and then share it! BUT I am so busy editing the next book I have little time to help market the first)

This marvelous lady has gone ahead and built a lovely web site complete with testimonials etc.

Please will you check this web site and if you like it share it with others?

http://alittledoor.inframind.net/ellie-braun-haley.html

To discover more about the wondrous stories in A Little Door, A Little Light

Let me know how you like it

Love ellie

P.S Have an excellent day

Now onto the good stuff!

Animal awareness series, endorsed by Shiloh and Hank Baker our mascots; all stories must be endorsed by these very special dogs.

JUST AN OLD MAN LIKE ME  

Roger Dean Kiser

“What the heck is all that noise outside?” I said to myself as I walked out onto the front porch.

Looking through the hedge I saw him lying in the middle of the cul-de-sac shaking like a leaf. Two teen age boys stood over him taunting him with a large stick.

Screaming at the top of my voice; I ran off the porch and out into the street. The two boys began running in the opposite direction.

I looked down at the little old man and noticed that he had a large tumor on the back of his neck. He looked as though he was at least ninety years old. What hair he had was shaggy, matted and stuck to his face. As I spoke he stood up and began to wonder around in a circle. I continued to speak but he acted as though he could not hear me.

“Are you deaf?” I asked.

There was no response.

“Hello,” I said, as I waived my hands in front of his face.

Again, no response.

“Gee, the old guy must be deaf and blind,” I said to myself.

Carefully I began walking him to my house. It took me almost twenty minutes just to get him to my garage and out of the heat. He immediately sat down on the floor and began breathing at a fast rate. I ran inside to get him a drink of water as it was almost one hundred degrees. When I returned he drank the water as though he had had nothing to drink all day. I continued to talk to him but he acted as though I was not there. I stood looking at him as he tried to cool himself on the cement floor.

I turned around when I heard my wife drive up. I walked over and told her what had happened. Slowly she walked to the garage door and looked inside.

“Oh my God what happened to him?” She asked.

I think he is blind and deaf,” I told her

She ran over to him and began to talk to him. I was surprised when he responded to her voice. He seemed to come alive when hearing a female voice.

We took him into the house where it was cool and sat him on the couch. We checked but he had no identification on him. We began calling around the neighborhood to see if anyone knew where he belonged. No one had ever seen him before. We called the police but they did not seem interested. Within several hours we had him at the doctors’ office where he was examined. Just as I thought he was blind and almost deaf. The doctor thought he was as least 90, maybe more. The doctor said the tumor could not be removed as he was much too old to have surgery.

Not knowing what to do; we took him home, gave him something to eat and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. All night long he wondered around the house, constantly bumping into the walls and doors. For the next five days we searched for his family but no one ever reported him missing. He ate very little and he slept nearly twenty hours a day. When awake he was dazed, scared and constantly confused. I did my best to try and rid him of those feelings. As I shaved; I looked at my wrinkled face, balding head, and the large brown spots all over my arms. I wondered if someday someone would once again discard me-just as my parents had done when I was a child.

Later that day a woman telephoned and wanted to know if we had located his family. We told her that no one had come to see about him. She had heard about him from one of her neighbors. She asked if she could come and see him. When she arrived we walked inside where he was laying on the couch. She reached down and gently stroked his hair and then she knelt down and hugged him.

She told us that she had started an organization where forgotten old men could live in peace. It was a nice place where they would not be abused or mistreated. After checking her out on the internet we watched as she sat him in her car and watched as they drove away.

That was the first time in my life that I had ever held an old man who only weighed three pounds. Actually it was the first time I had ever seen a Yorkshire Terrier with a tumor like the one I carry in my heart.

trampolineone@earthlink.net

~**~**~

Death of the  Innocent
by Clara Wersterfer

 
Maybe someplace in this world, someone is playing a recording of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". It would be fitting for all our little fur babies that have crossed the Rainbow Bridge.
We had to bury our pet raccoon today. She had been a nightly visitor to our home for six years. I expected to see her little face looking over the end of the porch about ten pm. If I didn't take the
dogs out at ten, she came and knocked on the door standing on her hind legs and peering in thru the storm door. She rapped rather loudly and shook the door handle.  She wasn't very patient when she was hungry!

The sound of the door opening was her signal to come meet me. I carried her bowl of food. She would reach up and pull at the bowl until I let her see there was food inside. She ran to her designated "dining room" at the end of the porch and waited. Putting her food bowl down on the
porch, I would walk to a chair and sit down. She stood on her hind feet and began her ritual of taking one kernel of the cat or dog food in her hand, cramming it into her mouth while reaching for another kernel with the other hand. It looked like an arm building exercise program.  She ate equally well with either hand. Never was she so rude as to eat from the bowl.

I usually talked to her while she ate, then she drank her water or milk, checked the bowl to make sure it was empty and departed. Sometimes she made an early morning appearance when it was feeding time for the cats. She got along surprisingly well with the cats, often allowing them to slap at her but never hitting back. She was a very gentle girl. About a week ago she went missing. I looked for her and put her food out even tho she wasn't there.

Sunday she came home in the early morning. Going to a furry mat on the porch that is for cats, she laid down. Half her tail was missing and she walked on three legs, holding up the right back one.
Perhaps she had been caught in a trap, or struck by a car.  We carried food and milk to her, but she refused it. Her eyes were full of pain and she hissed when I came near.  I talked to her a bit and positioned a box to keep the sun off her. After a few hours of rest, she left the porch. I didn't see her go, but looked for her.

We found her today. She had crept into an old abandoned chicken nest and died. She came home to the only place of safety she knew and to people who had been kind to her.

Clara Westerfer

CBWEST@webtv.net

Poetry Section

~**~**~

HEAVENLY BLISS

Joyce C. Lock

What passion, what romance, what love this is...

When you live your life in a Heavenly Bliss.

Adoring the Master, you shouldn't miss.

Being in His presence, Heaven's like this.

© by Joyce C. Lock

Let the heaven and earth praise him, the seas,
and every thing that moveth therein.

Psalm 69:34

~**~**~

 HE'S BY OUR SIDE

Joyce. C. Lock

Moment by moment and day by day,
Our Lord goes with us all the way.

We need never fret. We need not fear.
We should not worry. Our Savior is near.

When we feel anxious, Satan has lied.
May we remember, He's by our side.

© by Joyce C. Lock

… I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

Hebrews 13:5

~**~**~

His Best to You

Joyce C. Lock

Give your best to the Master.
That's all He asks of you.

If you'll give your best to Him,
He'll give His best to you.

© by Joyce C. Lock

Readers Feedback

Carol,
   You may not have had a good father, but you surely did become a good
mother, and a good person in spite of him.  Have a joyous summer.  Joe

I enjoyed so much reading the Father's Day stories and would like to thank all you wonderful people for writing them.  I also loved the touching stories by Joe Mazzella about his dad as I could identify in some ways, not from my own dad, but myself.  That God some do change before it is too late but sometimes not soon enough.  I know that some of these heartbreaking stories were so difficult to write, as Sharon Bryant's lovely story.  Also, thanks Carol for allowing us a glimpse of your family, or lack of one, as you grew up.  It helps me know that I am not alone in the big old world where good people didn't necessarily have great childhood's.  Hugs, Sharlett

B.J. Beautiful!----One must wish that all mothers deserved such honor!             Louise

B.J,  Awesome and precious so glad you shared this one   hugs from the old Granny who continues "Dancing with Life" as my dear mama made possible by giving me to my precious little gramma at 11 days old.  Hugs   Leona

BJ has sure had a lot of sadness.

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; Dowd, Helen; 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

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer – moderator

Bob Johnston - moderator

Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

June 28, 2006

Today’s announcements

GOOD NEWS
God works in our lives and sometimes it is by using strangers.
This is what happened to me.
A LADY I HAD NEVER MET CONTACTED ME A FEW MONTHS BACK.
She had heard of the book, A LITTLE DOOR, A LITTLE LIGHT and went looking for it, WELL, she had trouble finding it. Eventually she tracked me down and she got the book. But then she said God impressed on her to help market the book. She spoke to me about it and I thought "how marvelous, yes please HELP!" (of course I believe the book is meant to help others. It is meant to plant seeds of HOPE! So of course I want thousands to find it and read it and then share it! BUT I am so busy editing the next book I have little time to help market the first)

This marvelous lady has gone ahead and built a lovely web site complete with testimonials etc.

Please will you check this web site and if you like it share it with others?

http://alittledoor.inframind.net/ellie-braun-haley.html

To discover more about the wondrous stories in A Little Door, A Little Light

Let me know how you like it

Love ellie

P.S Have an excellent day

Now onto the good stuff!

Animal awareness series, endorsed by Shiloh and Hank Baker our mascots; all stories must be endorsed by these very special dogs.

JUST AN OLD MAN LIKE ME  

Roger Dean Kiser

“What the heck is all that noise outside?” I said to myself as I walked out onto the front porch.

Looking through the hedge I saw him lying in the middle of the cul-de-sac shaking like a leaf. Two teen age boys stood over him taunting him with a large stick.

Screaming at the top of my voice; I ran off the porch and out into the street. The two boys began running in the opposite direction.

I looked down at the little old man and noticed that he had a large tumor on the back of his neck. He looked as though he was at least ninety years old. What hair he had was shaggy, matted and stuck to his face. As I spoke he stood up and began to wonder around in a circle. I continued to speak but he acted as though he could not hear me.

“Are you deaf?” I asked.

There was no response.

“Hello,” I said, as I waived my hands in front of his face.

Again, no response.

“Gee, the old guy must be deaf and blind,” I said to myself.

Carefully I began walking him to my house. It took me almost twenty minutes just to get him to my garage and out of the heat. He immediately sat down on the floor and began breathing at a fast rate. I ran inside to get him a drink of water as it was almost one hundred degrees. When I returned he drank the water as though he had had nothing to drink all day. I continued to talk to him but he acted as though I was not there. I stood looking at him as he tried to cool himself on the cement floor.

I turned around when I heard my wife drive up. I walked over and told her what had happened. Slowly she walked to the garage door and looked inside.

“Oh my God what happened to him?” She asked.

I think he is blind and deaf,” I told her

She ran over to him and began to talk to him. I was surprised when he responded to her voice. He seemed to come alive when hearing a female voice.

We took him into the house where it was cool and sat him on the couch. We checked but he had no identification on him. We began calling around the neighborhood to see if anyone knew where he belonged. No one had ever seen him before. We called the police but they did not seem interested. Within several hours we had him at the doctors’ office where he was examined. Just as I thought he was blind and almost deaf. The doctor thought he was as least 90, maybe more. The doctor said the tumor could not be removed as he was much too old to have surgery.

Not knowing what to do; we took him home, gave him something to eat and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. All night long he wondered around the house, constantly bumping into the walls and doors. For the next five days we searched for his family but no one ever reported him missing. He ate very little and he slept nearly twenty hours a day. When awake he was dazed, scared and constantly confused. I did my best to try and rid him of those feelings. As I shaved; I looked at my wrinkled face, balding head, and the large brown spots all over my arms. I wondered if someday someone would once again discard me-just as my parents had done when I was a child.

Later that day a woman telephoned and wanted to know if we had located his family. We told her that no one had come to see about him. She had heard about him from one of her neighbors. She asked if she could come and see him. When she arrived we walked inside where he was laying on the couch. She reached down and gently stroked his hair and then she knelt down and hugged him.

She told us that she had started an organization where forgotten old men could live in peace. It was a nice place where they would not be abused or mistreated. After checking her out on the internet we watched as she sat him in her car and watched as they drove away.

That was the first time in my life that I had ever held an old man who only weighed three pounds. Actually it was the first time I had ever seen a Yorkshire Terrier with a tumor like the one I carry in my heart.

trampolineone@earthlink.net

~**~**~

Death of the  Innocent
by Clara Wersterfer

 
Maybe someplace in this world, someone is playing a recording of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". It would be fitting for all our little fur babies that have crossed the Rainbow Bridge.
We had to bury our pet raccoon today. She had been a nightly visitor to our home for six years. I expected to see her little face looking over the end of the porch about ten pm. If I didn't take the
dogs out at ten, she came and knocked on the door standing on her hind legs and peering in thru the storm door. She rapped rather loudly and shook the door handle.  She wasn't very patient when she was hungry!

The sound of the door opening was her signal to come meet me. I carried her bowl of food. She would reach up and pull at the bowl until I let her see there was food inside. She ran to her designated "dining room" at the end of the porch and waited. Putting her food bowl down on the
porch, I would walk to a chair and sit down. She stood on her hind feet and began her ritual of taking one kernel of the cat or dog food in her hand, cramming it into her mouth while reaching for another kernel with the other hand. It looked like an arm building exercise program.  She ate equally well with either hand. Never was she so rude as to eat from the bowl.

I usually talked to her while she ate, then she drank her water or milk, checked the bowl to make sure it was empty and departed. Sometimes she made an early morning appearance when it was feeding time for the cats. She got along surprisingly well with the cats, often allowing them to slap at her but never hitting back. She was a very gentle girl. About a week ago she went missing. I looked for her and put her food out even tho she wasn't there.

Sunday she came home in the early morning. Going to a furry mat on the porch that is for cats, she laid down. Half her tail was missing and she walked on three legs, holding up the right back one.
Perhaps she had been caught in a trap, or struck by a car.  We carried food and milk to her, but she refused it. Her eyes were full of pain and she hissed when I came near.  I talked to her a bit and positioned a box to keep the sun off her. After a few hours of rest, she left the porch. I didn't see her go, but looked for her.

We found her today. She had crept into an old abandoned chicken nest and died. She came home to the only place of safety she knew and to people who had been kind to her.

Clara Westerfer

CBWEST@webtv.net

Poetry Section

~**~**~

HEAVENLY BLISS

Joyce C. Lock

What passion, what romance, what love this is...

When you live your life in a Heavenly Bliss.

Adoring the Master, you shouldn't miss.

Being in His presence, Heaven's like this.

© by Joyce C. Lock

Let the heaven and earth praise him, the seas,
and every thing that moveth therein.

Psalm 69:34

~**~**~

 HE'S BY OUR SIDE

Joyce. C. Lock

Moment by moment and day by day,
Our Lord goes with us all the way.

We need never fret. We need not fear.
We should not worry. Our Savior is near.

When we feel anxious, Satan has lied.
May we remember, He's by our side.

© by Joyce C. Lock

… I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

Hebrews 13:5

~**~**~

His Best to You

Joyce C. Lock

Give your best to the Master.
That's all He asks of you.

If you'll give your best to Him,
He'll give His best to you.

© by Joyce C. Lock

Readers Feedback

Carol,
   You may not have had a good father, but you surely did become a good
mother, and a good person in spite of him.  Have a joyous summer.  Joe

I enjoyed so much reading the Father's Day stories and would like to thank all you wonderful people for writing them.  I also loved the touching stories by Joe Mazzella about his dad as I could identify in some ways, not from my own dad, but myself.  That God some do change before it is too late but sometimes not soon enough.  I know that some of these heartbreaking stories were so difficult to write, as Sharon Bryant's lovely story.  Also, thanks Carol for allowing us a glimpse of your family, or lack of one, as you grew up.  It helps me know that I am not alone in the big old world where good people didn't necessarily have great childhood's.  Hugs, Sharlett

B.J. Beautiful!----One must wish that all mothers deserved such honor!             Louise

B.J,  Awesome and precious so glad you shared this one   hugs from the old Granny who continues "Dancing with Life" as my dear mama made possible by giving me to my precious little gramma at 11 days old.  Hugs   Leona

BJ has sure had a lot of sadness.

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; Dowd, Helen; 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

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer – moderator

Bob Johnston - moderator