I remember as a child, visiting my Aunt Mabel by the sea. I don't know what was the more pleasurable - visiting Aunt Mabel, or visiting the sea, for I loved them both! Never was a grown-up so kindly and enthusiastic, so interested in the world, as my Aunt Mabel was. We'd sit on the porch, and she'd tell me stories of when she was a girl - she'd hoot with laughter when I tried to tell a joke. She'd watch me running along the beach, chasing the dancing edges of the waves. In the evenings, as the sea whispered it's secrets to the shells, Aunt Mabel would light a candle on the table outside, and she'd read me passages from the Bible. I'd close my eyes and lay back on the big, old couch and listen, as the stars lit up the sky... y'know, in our own way, over the years, Aunt Mabel and I made quite a study of that Great Book! Last thing at night, Aunt Mabel would take my hands, and draw me close and kiss me. Then she'd send me off to bed, with a blessing. One of my favorite of Aunt Mabel's blessings was this one:
Happiness is
taking
Whatever God gives you to work with
And making a gift of it to others
Letting God's light shine through you
Just a little every day...
That's the surest recipe to chase the blues away!
Why did this little verse mean so much to me?
Well... Aunt Mabel was confined to a wheel-chair; she'd been in that wheel-chair, ever since she was 10 years old when she'd had an accident and fallen from a horse. I guess Aunt Mabel knew a lot about disappointment... but if she did, she didn't show it! I reckon Aunt Mabel had travelled more miles for God in that wheel-chair, than most people do on two good legs. God calls us to take note of our lives, and serve Him with joy and praise - at least, that's what Aunt Mabel used to say. Now, if she could do it from a wheel-chair - how much more able are most of us! No more excuses! We need to take whatever gifts God gives us, and shine!
"Are you called to help others? Do it with all the strength and energy that God supplies. Then God will be given glory in everything through Jesus Christ."
1 Peter 4:11
2010 Laura Swindon-Ross. All rights reserved
This work is copyright, all rights reserved.
I'm a teacher and Christian writer, currently studying for a Ph.D.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Monday, October 18, 2010
Gone With The Wind
The train left Nampally railway station at exactly five twenty five and I made myself comfortable at my seat which was on the lower berth in the near empty coach. The coach is divided into compartments having four berths, two on the lower and two on the upper, facing each other.
My work involves extensive travel to meet shipping deadlines and I keep a travel case ready with all the necessities along with a Bible and a novel, bigger the better as I may not get reading material in some of those far off destinations.
Sitting on the berth with the back to the window and popped up with pillows I stretched out my legs on the berth and started reading the only book available with me, ‘Gone with the Wind’ by Margaret Mitchell. Even though I have read it many times before, I get so immersed into it, that time just flies by mesmerizing me as the South comes alive just like it was in the year 1861 with its old world charm, as the beautiful green eyed sixteen year old Scarlett O’Hara makes her way through one thousand and odd pages till the book ends with her famous words, ‘I’ll think of it all tomorrow, at Tara. After all, tomorrow is another day.’
The sudden ring of a mobile phone in the opposite berth startled me as it was particularly loud, and the owner, a plump lady in her forties, looked apologetic as she answered it. It was nearing eight and dinner was being served by the pantry boy.
After the call the lady asked me rather sheepishly, “Excuse me can you lower the volume?”
I took her mobile and made the necessary adjustments.
“Thank you very much.”
I nodded.
Pointing to the book I was reading she asked me, “Is it ‘Gone with the Wind’?”
“Yes”
“Great book”
I nodded again, but this time I smiled.
“They say the sales of the book were second to the Bible?”
“Yes”
“Are you a Christian?”
“Yes”
And she was silent. Seeing that she was minding her own business, I unwrapped my dinner, and watching me, she called, “Sheila”
And from the top berth, a girl, who must be in her mid twenties answered, “Yes Ma”
“Beta lets have dinner.”
I quickly finished my dinner and returned to my reading.
After about fifteen minutes, I glanced up from my reading and saw through the tinted window that we are approaching a station.
“Are you conversant with the Bible?” the lady asked.
As I looked at her, bewildered, she explained, “What I meant to ask is, are you familiar with the Bible.”
“Yes, I am familiar with it. I read it daily.”
“You read it daily?” she asked me shocked.
“Yes,” I answered with a bewildered look.
“I beg your pardon; please don’t think otherwise, what I meant was, do you read the Bible daily?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Is it that easy? Is it in English?”
I laughed and taking out the Bible from my travel case gave it to her. It is encased in a black zipped leather jacket with ‘Holy Bible’ printed on it in golden letters.
“Can I open it?”
“Sure go ahead.”
Opening the zip, she flipped the pages and looking at me asked, “Can I read it?”
“Oh sure, sure, please go ahead.”
“When I am reading should I cover my head?”
I laughed again. “Ma’am, read it just like you read any other book.”
Before I could say anything she started reading the Book of Genesis.
I didn’t know when I slept off, but when I woke up, I found her still reading.
The soft beep of the alarm woke me up and when I pulled the travel case from under my berth, I noticed that the Bible was kept over it, with a simple Thank You note. As the lady’s destination is Belgaum which is another five hours away, she was sleeping soundly on her side and facing away from me.
The surprise arrival of a fairly thick envelope at my office address after two months, by one Mrs.Tanushree Madhumitha, Belgaum and I immediately knew that it must be the lady I met in the train, though I had never asked her name. The envelope contained a couple of photographs, a wedding invitation and a three page handwritten letter.
Dear Mr. Richard,
Remember me? I met you in the train on 18 March 1992. Enclosed is my daughter Sheila, our only child’s wedding invitation. You may feel surprised that I am inviting you, a total stranger to her wedding but after 18 March 1992 you are a family member and I would like to share with you in detail of how you made it possible for us to accept Jesus Christ as our savior and Lord.
You see, Sheila wanted to marry George Gideon, a Christian colleague of hers, whom she was friendly from the last three years. We being from a very strong orthodox Non Christian background, fervently hoped that the phase would go away with the passage of time and waited for nearly three years. But their love, instead of waning, became stronger and stronger. She not only wanted to marry him but to get herself converted into Christianity that made us dumbfounded as none in our family for seven generations on my side and seven in my husband’s side have ever thought of doing it. Getting converted to a religion, a religion where there is no idol worship and a religion which is alien in India is unthinkable to us.
Richard, we never heard about Christianity or about Jesus Christ and to make our situation very difficult we don’t have any common Christian friends. So when I met you in the train and saw you reading ‘Gone with the Wind’, I had that woman’s instinct that you are a Christian and oh boy, I waited for a very long time to start a conversation with you.
But I never knew that you would carry a Bible and give it for me to read it and that made it possible for me to understand about Christianity. Reading it made me know more about Jesus Christ and convinced me to take this momentous decision, as well as make it easy to convince my husband, a forty eight year old man with an illustrious career in the Indian Air Force, a man revered in our family for his great success and a man much sought out in our social circle.
Richard thank you and God Bless You, and we look forward to see you and your wife Pamela at the wedding.
Yours truly,
Tanushree
Ps: - I have noted down your office address from the visiting card which you had kept as a book mark.
We attended the marriage at the Church and the reception was one of the best gatherings we had ever attended.
The phone rang. It was my boss. “Richard the Goan handicrafts order is confirmed. Make arrangements to fly to Goa, and this time take your wife along as it is going to be fairly long trip.”
The plan was to fly direct from Hyderabad to Dabolim, but Pamela wanted to take the train. As usual she did the packing but this time she kept two Bibles and my visiting cards in each of them as a book mark.
And along with my all time favorite ‘Gone with the Wind’ she also kept ‘War and Peace’ written by Leo Tolstoy.
Glossary: Beta - Daughter in Hindi language.
Tikka -A vermillion dot or a colored sticker kept on all non Christian’s
woman’s forehead.
Roti - An unleavened flatbread made from wheat flour.
Author’s Note: Christianity in India is as old as Christianity itself, as Saint Thomas preached in the first century A.D. The Bible Society of India and Gideon International translate and distribute the Holy Bible in forty nine Indian languages and eighty languages worldwide and in one hundred and ninety countries around the world.
Victor Jasti from India has this passion to write short stories based on Bible and real incidents. He also writes Christian fiction & poetry. Five of his poems were published in Temporal Currents compiled by an American author Ms Christine Tricarico
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
My work involves extensive travel to meet shipping deadlines and I keep a travel case ready with all the necessities along with a Bible and a novel, bigger the better as I may not get reading material in some of those far off destinations.
Sitting on the berth with the back to the window and popped up with pillows I stretched out my legs on the berth and started reading the only book available with me, ‘Gone with the Wind’ by Margaret Mitchell. Even though I have read it many times before, I get so immersed into it, that time just flies by mesmerizing me as the South comes alive just like it was in the year 1861 with its old world charm, as the beautiful green eyed sixteen year old Scarlett O’Hara makes her way through one thousand and odd pages till the book ends with her famous words, ‘I’ll think of it all tomorrow, at Tara. After all, tomorrow is another day.’
The sudden ring of a mobile phone in the opposite berth startled me as it was particularly loud, and the owner, a plump lady in her forties, looked apologetic as she answered it. It was nearing eight and dinner was being served by the pantry boy.
After the call the lady asked me rather sheepishly, “Excuse me can you lower the volume?”
I took her mobile and made the necessary adjustments.
“Thank you very much.”
I nodded.
Pointing to the book I was reading she asked me, “Is it ‘Gone with the Wind’?”
“Yes”
“Great book”
I nodded again, but this time I smiled.
“They say the sales of the book were second to the Bible?”
“Yes”
“Are you a Christian?”
“Yes”
And she was silent. Seeing that she was minding her own business, I unwrapped my dinner, and watching me, she called, “Sheila”
And from the top berth, a girl, who must be in her mid twenties answered, “Yes Ma”
“Beta lets have dinner.”
I quickly finished my dinner and returned to my reading.
After about fifteen minutes, I glanced up from my reading and saw through the tinted window that we are approaching a station.
“Are you conversant with the Bible?” the lady asked.
As I looked at her, bewildered, she explained, “What I meant to ask is, are you familiar with the Bible.”
“Yes, I am familiar with it. I read it daily.”
“You read it daily?” she asked me shocked.
“Yes,” I answered with a bewildered look.
“I beg your pardon; please don’t think otherwise, what I meant was, do you read the Bible daily?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Is it that easy? Is it in English?”
I laughed and taking out the Bible from my travel case gave it to her. It is encased in a black zipped leather jacket with ‘Holy Bible’ printed on it in golden letters.
“Can I open it?”
“Sure go ahead.”
Opening the zip, she flipped the pages and looking at me asked, “Can I read it?”
“Oh sure, sure, please go ahead.”
“When I am reading should I cover my head?”
I laughed again. “Ma’am, read it just like you read any other book.”
Before I could say anything she started reading the Book of Genesis.
I didn’t know when I slept off, but when I woke up, I found her still reading.
The soft beep of the alarm woke me up and when I pulled the travel case from under my berth, I noticed that the Bible was kept over it, with a simple Thank You note. As the lady’s destination is Belgaum which is another five hours away, she was sleeping soundly on her side and facing away from me.
The surprise arrival of a fairly thick envelope at my office address after two months, by one Mrs.Tanushree Madhumitha, Belgaum and I immediately knew that it must be the lady I met in the train, though I had never asked her name. The envelope contained a couple of photographs, a wedding invitation and a three page handwritten letter.
Dear Mr. Richard,
Remember me? I met you in the train on 18 March 1992. Enclosed is my daughter Sheila, our only child’s wedding invitation. You may feel surprised that I am inviting you, a total stranger to her wedding but after 18 March 1992 you are a family member and I would like to share with you in detail of how you made it possible for us to accept Jesus Christ as our savior and Lord.
You see, Sheila wanted to marry George Gideon, a Christian colleague of hers, whom she was friendly from the last three years. We being from a very strong orthodox Non Christian background, fervently hoped that the phase would go away with the passage of time and waited for nearly three years. But their love, instead of waning, became stronger and stronger. She not only wanted to marry him but to get herself converted into Christianity that made us dumbfounded as none in our family for seven generations on my side and seven in my husband’s side have ever thought of doing it. Getting converted to a religion, a religion where there is no idol worship and a religion which is alien in India is unthinkable to us.
Richard, we never heard about Christianity or about Jesus Christ and to make our situation very difficult we don’t have any common Christian friends. So when I met you in the train and saw you reading ‘Gone with the Wind’, I had that woman’s instinct that you are a Christian and oh boy, I waited for a very long time to start a conversation with you.
But I never knew that you would carry a Bible and give it for me to read it and that made it possible for me to understand about Christianity. Reading it made me know more about Jesus Christ and convinced me to take this momentous decision, as well as make it easy to convince my husband, a forty eight year old man with an illustrious career in the Indian Air Force, a man revered in our family for his great success and a man much sought out in our social circle.
Richard thank you and God Bless You, and we look forward to see you and your wife Pamela at the wedding.
Yours truly,
Tanushree
Ps: - I have noted down your office address from the visiting card which you had kept as a book mark.
We attended the marriage at the Church and the reception was one of the best gatherings we had ever attended.
The phone rang. It was my boss. “Richard the Goan handicrafts order is confirmed. Make arrangements to fly to Goa, and this time take your wife along as it is going to be fairly long trip.”
The plan was to fly direct from Hyderabad to Dabolim, but Pamela wanted to take the train. As usual she did the packing but this time she kept two Bibles and my visiting cards in each of them as a book mark.
And along with my all time favorite ‘Gone with the Wind’ she also kept ‘War and Peace’ written by Leo Tolstoy.
Glossary: Beta - Daughter in Hindi language.
Tikka -A vermillion dot or a colored sticker kept on all non Christian’s
woman’s forehead.
Roti - An unleavened flatbread made from wheat flour.
Author’s Note: Christianity in India is as old as Christianity itself, as Saint Thomas preached in the first century A.D. The Bible Society of India and Gideon International translate and distribute the Holy Bible in forty nine Indian languages and eighty languages worldwide and in one hundred and ninety countries around the world.
Victor Jasti from India has this passion to write short stories based on Bible and real incidents. He also writes Christian fiction & poetry. Five of his poems were published in Temporal Currents compiled by an American author Ms Christine Tricarico
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Popcorn, Till Death Do Us Apart
Young love is sensual, bringing gratification with each lingering goodnight kiss. I am not intentionally suggestive, just revealing personal experience. As I retrieve memories of dating from way back when, one fact remains clear as crystal; it involved all my senses.
Guys might not realize the intensity of pleasure they provided. First, many were easy on the eyes. A fresh haircut implied he looked forward to our date as much as I did. His selection of a colorful shirt and Wranglers, or dark suit, shirt and tie left a big impression on me. One steady date and I wore matching madras plaid shirts, guess that dates me in my saga.
I snuggled up close to get a better position for aromatherapy. Long before it became trendy or big business a splash of Old Spice, Aqua Velva, English Leather, Canoe or Brut helped me to sit back and relax. The time spent with my head on his shoulder came with repeated deep whiffs of manly fragrance.
The romantic voice of an admirer at the other end of the phone made my heart flutter. Some conversations spanned time linking the closing of one day to the rising of the sun. Three little words transported me to springtime and apple blossoms. "You're my sweetie!"
Holding hands became an art form and I would love to sign up for an art appreciation refresher course. There were many ways to hold hands. Beginners advanced to firm holding with fingers intertwined. The Cadillac of hand holding involved caressing of the hand.
I must not neglect to mention the taste test. Kisses came in many flavor varieties. Many left behind a refreshing taste of minty mouthwash or Lavoris cinnamon. I'm not knocking Listerine or Dr Tichner's, but that antiseptic shocked the taste buds.
I routinely judged chewing gum. Do you remember that juicy kiss when a date chewed Juicy Fruit gum, sugar rush after Double Bubble bubblegum, Black Jack licorice, Chiclets mint, or zesty Dentyne chewed as a precaution against halitosis? Most people are loyal to a brand of chewing gum. I tagged each with their distinctive taste sensation.
Popcorn won first place in my kiss taste test; each bag or bowl led me closer to the aisle. My young man placed popcorn at the top of his snack favorites. Our dates often included matinée viewings in dimly lit movie theaters or rendezvous at drive-ins.
He first detoured to the concession stand to buy popcorn and soda. Each tender kiss tasted like melted butter with a generous topping of salt. I guess it became addictive; I could not get enough!
We're old folks now; we don't get out much anymore. He lingers over popcorn servings from large salad bowls, relaxing in front of the television. One eye is on the TV screen, the other on his popcorn target.
The western hero wins in the chase scene, and my hero munches on a handful of microwave delight. The sun sets in the west; we'll meet at the pass for popcorn goodnight kisses. Popcorn, till death do us part
With God all things are possible! Devotionals are my first love in writing! Published articles in Mature Living Magazine, Secret Place, Daily Devotionals for the Deaf. Available now in book store: FORGET-ME-NOT DAILY DEVOTIONAL http:/ebooks.faithwriters.com/ebook-details.php?id=520
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Guys might not realize the intensity of pleasure they provided. First, many were easy on the eyes. A fresh haircut implied he looked forward to our date as much as I did. His selection of a colorful shirt and Wranglers, or dark suit, shirt and tie left a big impression on me. One steady date and I wore matching madras plaid shirts, guess that dates me in my saga.
I snuggled up close to get a better position for aromatherapy. Long before it became trendy or big business a splash of Old Spice, Aqua Velva, English Leather, Canoe or Brut helped me to sit back and relax. The time spent with my head on his shoulder came with repeated deep whiffs of manly fragrance.
The romantic voice of an admirer at the other end of the phone made my heart flutter. Some conversations spanned time linking the closing of one day to the rising of the sun. Three little words transported me to springtime and apple blossoms. "You're my sweetie!"
Holding hands became an art form and I would love to sign up for an art appreciation refresher course. There were many ways to hold hands. Beginners advanced to firm holding with fingers intertwined. The Cadillac of hand holding involved caressing of the hand.
I must not neglect to mention the taste test. Kisses came in many flavor varieties. Many left behind a refreshing taste of minty mouthwash or Lavoris cinnamon. I'm not knocking Listerine or Dr Tichner's, but that antiseptic shocked the taste buds.
I routinely judged chewing gum. Do you remember that juicy kiss when a date chewed Juicy Fruit gum, sugar rush after Double Bubble bubblegum, Black Jack licorice, Chiclets mint, or zesty Dentyne chewed as a precaution against halitosis? Most people are loyal to a brand of chewing gum. I tagged each with their distinctive taste sensation.
Popcorn won first place in my kiss taste test; each bag or bowl led me closer to the aisle. My young man placed popcorn at the top of his snack favorites. Our dates often included matinée viewings in dimly lit movie theaters or rendezvous at drive-ins.
He first detoured to the concession stand to buy popcorn and soda. Each tender kiss tasted like melted butter with a generous topping of salt. I guess it became addictive; I could not get enough!
We're old folks now; we don't get out much anymore. He lingers over popcorn servings from large salad bowls, relaxing in front of the television. One eye is on the TV screen, the other on his popcorn target.
The western hero wins in the chase scene, and my hero munches on a handful of microwave delight. The sun sets in the west; we'll meet at the pass for popcorn goodnight kisses. Popcorn, till death do us part
With God all things are possible! Devotionals are my first love in writing! Published articles in Mature Living Magazine, Secret Place, Daily Devotionals for the Deaf. Available now in book store: FORGET-ME-NOT DAILY DEVOTIONAL http:/ebooks.faithwriters.com/ebook-details.php?id=520
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Against All Odds
Against all odds she shouldn't have made it this far; it was a miracle she wasn't dead. Dragging her tiny body along the jagged gravely ground, she sought immediate relief from the danger. Her pain and the oven-like heat combined to make her efforts more unbearable. She couldn't give up; she was the sole support for her two little ones awaiting her return with growling tummies and parched throats.
"Where's Mom? Why has she been gone so long?" they wondered. "We're hungry!" They hadn't eaten since early morning and thought of calling to her but knew it would only make things worse. Mom had taught them early on to stay quiet whenever she was away.
Life was hard this summer and it was becoming do or die for many a family. "Maybe we could go for help," the youngsters brooded together, trying to be brave. "No, Mom said never to let others know if you are weak. That's dangerous." Snuggling close to one another, they decided to stay put and wait. "Mom will be home soon." Their home was a small space off the upstairs bathroom. Though hot in the afternoon, it cooled quickly in the evening; the leaky roof offered some protection from most of the elements.
Crawling now, she inched her way over the rough terrain, scraping one side and then the other, all the while drawing closer to her goal. She could almost smell the water as the vapors in her nostrils told her the shallow pond was very near; her strength was almost exhausted. A few sips and she'd be able to regain enough strength to make it home. One more lunge and then another, she was finally there.
Softly she placed her head down in the warm water and slowly drew in the life-sustaining fluid. "Oh my; what sweet water! I must rest now; I must rest." Her aching body slid into the shallow water as she reclined, soaking for what seemed but a moment and soon she was fast asleep.
Startled out of her slumber, she felt her vigor returning, her senses stepping out of the fog. Her first thoughts were of her little ones. "I must get home; I must get home. My babies need me." With great effort she rolled her tired body from one side to the other in the soothing waters, soaking up every last ounce of moisture for the homeward trek.
Her wobbly feet shook and tickled as she stood erect. She shuddered as her memory returned. "The accident; yes, I remember now." A car had veered in front of her as she was crossing the street. The forceful blow had knocked the wind out of her and nicked one of her feet. If she hadn't dropped to the ground, she would have been killed. Close to losing consciousness, she had wiggled over into a clump of grass on the side of the street. She lied there for a long time, knowing she had to find water; the blazing sunlight was dehydrating her lithe body. She crawled into the brush and headed for a small pool that she remembered was nearby.
That's where this story began, a wounded mother scrounging food for her little ones on a blistering hot day, using all her survival skills to recoup from a hit-and-run accident. Her mind was clearing now and after flexing her body and limbs, she took comfort in knowing she would soon be back with her sweet little darlings. With uplifted spirits and a joyful heart, she soared home and lived to see another day. Such was the life of a rock dove in a big city one hot summer day a few years ago.
(The thought for this story came from a true experience with an exhausted dove floundering in my ground-level backyard birdbath, one hot summer day a few years ago.)
Copyright Jeanne E. Webster
A published freelance writer, editor/publisher of monthly newsletter for years. jeanne_webster@faithwriters.net
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
"Where's Mom? Why has she been gone so long?" they wondered. "We're hungry!" They hadn't eaten since early morning and thought of calling to her but knew it would only make things worse. Mom had taught them early on to stay quiet whenever she was away.
Life was hard this summer and it was becoming do or die for many a family. "Maybe we could go for help," the youngsters brooded together, trying to be brave. "No, Mom said never to let others know if you are weak. That's dangerous." Snuggling close to one another, they decided to stay put and wait. "Mom will be home soon." Their home was a small space off the upstairs bathroom. Though hot in the afternoon, it cooled quickly in the evening; the leaky roof offered some protection from most of the elements.
Crawling now, she inched her way over the rough terrain, scraping one side and then the other, all the while drawing closer to her goal. She could almost smell the water as the vapors in her nostrils told her the shallow pond was very near; her strength was almost exhausted. A few sips and she'd be able to regain enough strength to make it home. One more lunge and then another, she was finally there.
Softly she placed her head down in the warm water and slowly drew in the life-sustaining fluid. "Oh my; what sweet water! I must rest now; I must rest." Her aching body slid into the shallow water as she reclined, soaking for what seemed but a moment and soon she was fast asleep.
Startled out of her slumber, she felt her vigor returning, her senses stepping out of the fog. Her first thoughts were of her little ones. "I must get home; I must get home. My babies need me." With great effort she rolled her tired body from one side to the other in the soothing waters, soaking up every last ounce of moisture for the homeward trek.
Her wobbly feet shook and tickled as she stood erect. She shuddered as her memory returned. "The accident; yes, I remember now." A car had veered in front of her as she was crossing the street. The forceful blow had knocked the wind out of her and nicked one of her feet. If she hadn't dropped to the ground, she would have been killed. Close to losing consciousness, she had wiggled over into a clump of grass on the side of the street. She lied there for a long time, knowing she had to find water; the blazing sunlight was dehydrating her lithe body. She crawled into the brush and headed for a small pool that she remembered was nearby.
That's where this story began, a wounded mother scrounging food for her little ones on a blistering hot day, using all her survival skills to recoup from a hit-and-run accident. Her mind was clearing now and after flexing her body and limbs, she took comfort in knowing she would soon be back with her sweet little darlings. With uplifted spirits and a joyful heart, she soared home and lived to see another day. Such was the life of a rock dove in a big city one hot summer day a few years ago.
(The thought for this story came from a true experience with an exhausted dove floundering in my ground-level backyard birdbath, one hot summer day a few years ago.)
Copyright Jeanne E. Webster
A published freelance writer, editor/publisher of monthly newsletter for years. jeanne_webster@faithwriters.net
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Saturday, October 9, 2010
The One Year Mother Daughter Devo
The book I requested from Tyndale has finally arrived!! I was so happy when I received this beautiful book "The One Year Mother Daughter Devo." This book is the best I have read so far, a daily affair bringing a Mother and a Daughter together, a beautiful family bonding.
My girl is a very quiet girl and it was just me and her in the house day in and out. When I received this book, it has helps us to have a stronger bond between my girl and I. Each night we read a page together, the story line is simple but very effective and applicable to our daily lives. This devotion book sort of connects all mother and daughters, to have a stronger bonding with one another. As we continue on our daily ritual with God, we can feel a sense of closeness that He is here by our side.
I highly recommend this book for all to see, especially for Mothers and Daughters!
My girl is a very quiet girl and it was just me and her in the house day in and out. When I received this book, it has helps us to have a stronger bond between my girl and I. Each night we read a page together, the story line is simple but very effective and applicable to our daily lives. This devotion book sort of connects all mother and daughters, to have a stronger bonding with one another. As we continue on our daily ritual with God, we can feel a sense of closeness that He is here by our side.
I highly recommend this book for all to see, especially for Mothers and Daughters!
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