113. Happy Valentines Day

Red and Warm
Right in the middle of winter,
Tucked between snowstorms and hanging icicles,
Peeking out from woolen scarves and thermal boots
Showing a lacy patch of red and warm
And lighting spirits young and old, near and far,
Comes Valentines Day -
A time to let your heart shine most clearly
To open it for all to see
That special day to dance, to sing, to laugh, to love.
So, I searched for something to give you,
But, cards seemed plain and did not contain the fullness of my feelings,
Glittery, sparkly diamonds were far beyond my means,
And, then, I turned my eyes to the heavens
And I saw just what there was for you . . .
The sparkling stars are so much brighter in the evening sky
Their glittering glory is yours to have, to admire, to feel, to share
I thought of flowers,
But, all of them paled to the rainbow and God's verdant fields,
And they are all there for you, too, in everyday abundance.
I thought of sending something sweet -
But how could I match the joy in a childish giggle,
The warmth of a baby's smile, or the loving care of a mother's touch ?
Candy is gone in an instant, but God and His world are eternal
So, on this Valentine's Day, I offer all of this to you
Embrace His creation
Celebrate His worth
And wrap yourself in His glory !
?
Happy Valentine's Day

111. Poetry is Like a River.

POETRY IS LIKE A RIVER

by Dr. C. B. Skelton

 

Poetry is like a river winding

through the countryside.

When its banks are steep and binding,

it may be deep . . . not wide.

But when it flows through level ground

and not much holds it in,

quite wide places may be found

and depth might be quite thin.

When it flows through regions icy,

a river will be cold;

but if the land is hot and spicy,

its heat may rise three-fold.

 

Because it’s not so deep and rushing,

must it not be a river?

Are only words so deep or gushing

in a poet’s quiver?

Can only issues flaming hot,

like passion and desire,

or war or peace or patriots

ignite a poet’s fire?

Must all rivers be the same

throughout all God’s creation

or poets play the same old game

the breadth of our nation.

 

All poets seek those words sublime.

Some may choose to meter;

others like to work in rhyme;

some think free-verse is neater.

With all kinds of poetic form

and subjects we might choose,

there is, of course, no single norm

that every poet must use.

One final point this writer makes

before his fond ‘Adieu,’

The form a poem or a river takes

depends on what it flows through.

 

110. Grumbling

Grumbling

The best definition of grumbling, it seems to me,
says simply "to mutter discontentedly."
Protesting against something in a bad-tempered way
is a thing most humans practice each day
and, in most cases, choose a subliminal voice
in stating our objections to an undesired choice.

Grumbling does not require intelligence,
neither a large measure of common sense.
It demonstrates no great ability,
and is common in those with low mentality.
In fact, among grumblers, you will hardly find
a person with a truly open mind.

Great character is never shown by grumbling,
nor will it guide one's path to prevent stumbling.
Never will it call for self denial --
it always is the other man on trial.
Simple grumbling never solves one's problems,
and never leads one to the means to solve them.

Constructive criticism is the way
that can lead to a better and happier day.
Being willing to step forward and state your case
is the best way to see your desires in place.
So, enough of your moaning and groaning and grumbling.
All of these partner with mumbling, stumbling and fumbling.

105. Will you give this to my daddy


Will you give this to my daddy?

As a Company, Southwest Airlines is going to support 'Red Fridays.'

Last week I was in Atlanta , Georgia attending a conference. While I was in the airport, returning home, I heard several people behind me beginning to clap and cheer. I immediately turned around and witnessed One of the greatest acts of patriotism I have ever seen.

Moving thru the terminal was a group of soldiers in their camos. As they began heading to their gate, everyone (well almost everyone) was abruptly to their feet with their hands waving and cheering.

When I saw the soldiers, probably 30-40 of them, being applauded and Cheered for, it hit me. I'm not alone. I'm not the only red-blooded American who still loves this country and supports our troops and their families.

Of course I immediately stopped and began clapping for these young unsung heroes who are putting their lives on the line everyday for us so we can go to school, work and home without fear or reprisal.

Just when I thought I could not be more proud of my country or of our Service men and women, a young girl, not more than 6 or 7 years old ran up to one of the male soldiers. He kneeled down and said 'hi...'

The little girl then asked him if he would give something to her daddy for her...

The young soldier, who didn't look any older than maybe 22 himself, said he would try and what did she want to give to her daddy. Then suddenly the little girl grabbed the neck of this soldier, gave him the biggest hug she could muster and then kissed him on the cheek.

The mother of the little girl, who said her daughter's name was Courtney, told the young soldier that her husband was a Marine and had been in Iraq for 11 months now. As the mom was explaining how much her daughter Courtney missed her father, the young soldier began to tear up.

When this temporarily single mom was done explaining her situation, all of the soldiers huddled together for a brief second... Then one of the other servicemen pulled out a military-looking walkie-talkie. They started playing with the device and talking back and forth on it..

After about 10-15 seconds of this, the young soldier walked back over to Courtney, bent down and said this to her, 'I spoke to your daddy and he told me to give this to you.' He then hugged this little girl that he had just met and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He finished by saying 'your daddy told me to tell you that he loves you more than anything and he is coming home very soon.'

The mom at this point was crying almost uncontrollably and as the young soldier stood to his feet, he saluted Courtney and her mom. I was standing no more than 6 feet away from this entire event.

As the soldiers began to leave, heading towards their gate, people resumed their applause. As I stood there applauding and looked around, there were very few dry eyes, including my own. That young soldier in one last act of selflessness turned around and blew a kiss to Courtney with a tear rolling down his cheek.

We need to remember everyday all of our soldiers and their families and thank God for them and their sacrifices. At the end of the day, it's good to be an American.

RED FRIDAYS ----- Very soon, you will see a great many people wearing red every Friday. The reason? Americans who support our troops used to be called the 'silent majority'. We are no longer silent, and are voicing our love for God, country and home in record breaking numbers.

Our idea of showing solidarity and support for our troops with dignity and respect starts this Friday - and continues each and every Friday until the troops all come home, sending a deafening message that.. Every red-blooded American who supports our men and women afar will wear something red.

By word of mouth, press, TV -- let's make the United States on every Friday a sea of red much like a homecoming football game in the bleachers.

If every one of us who loves this country will share this with acquaintances, co-workers, friends, and family. It will not be long before the USA is covered in RED.

99. The Eagle

The Eagle

This is Amazing...It is no wonder there are scriptural references to the eagle! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did.
And, no there is no wonder the bald eagle has such a significant symbolism to our country. What hope…¦!!!!

eagle12.gif

When it rains, most birds head for shelter; the eagle is the only bird that, in order to avoid the rain, starts flying above the clouds...

An amazing tidbit about the Eagle's eyesight: The eagle can probably identify a rabbit moving almost a mile away. That means that an eagle flying at an altitude of 1000 feet over open country could spot prey over an area of almost 3 square miles from a fixed position.

No wonder God wants us to spread our wings and soar with eagles.

from Homer S. Sewell III, aka Abraham Lincoln

96. All I Want For Christmas

This year's Army/Navy Game: The Rest of the Story

 

Here's a 'today' Yule story that occurred 3 weeks ago ~ AND NOW, in time for the holidays, I bring you the best Christmas story you never heard.

It started last Christmas, when Bennett and Vivian Levin were overwhelmed by sadness while listening to radio reports of injured American troops. "We have to let them know we care," Vivian told Bennett. So they organized a trip to bring soldiers from Walter Reed Army Medical Center and Bethesda Naval Hospital to the annual Army-Navy football game in Philly, on Dec. 3.

The cool part is, they created their own train line to do it. Yes, there are people in this country who actually own real trains. Bennett Levin - native Philly guy, self-made millionaire and irascible former L&I commish - is one of them.

He has three luxury rail cars. Think mahogany paneling, plush seating and white-linen dining areas. He also has two locomotives, which he stores at his Juniata Park train yard. One car, the elegant Pennsylvania , carried John F. Kennedy to the Army-Navy game in 1961 and '62. Later, it carried his brother Bobby's body to D. C. for burial. "That's a lot of history for one car," says Bennett.

He and Vivian wanted to revive a tradition that endured from 1936 to 1975, during which trains carried Army-Navy spectators from around the country directly to the stadium where the annual game is played. The Levins could think of no better passengers to reinstate the ceremonial ride than the wounded men and women recovering at Walter Reed in D. C. and Bethesda , in Maryland . "We wanted to give them a first-class experience," says Bennett. "Gourmet meals on board, private transportation from the train to the stadium, perfect seats - real hero treatment."

Through the Army War College Foundation, of which he is a trustee, Bennett met with Walter Reed's commanding general, who loved the idea. But Bennett had some ground rules first, all designed to keep the focus on the troops alone:

No press on the trip, lest the soldiers' day of pampering devolve into a media circus.

No politicians either, because, says Bennett, "I didn't want some idiot making this trip into a campaign photo op"

And no Pentagon suits on board, otherwise the soldiers would be too busy saluting superiors to relax.

The general agreed to the conditions, and Bennett realized he had a problem on his hands. "I had to actually make this thing happen," he laughs.

Over the next months, he recruited owners of 15 other sumptuous rail cars from around the country - these people tend to know each other - into lending their vehicles for the day. The name of their temporary train? The Liberty Limited.

Amtrak volunteered to transport the cars to D. C. - where they'd be coupled together for the round-trip ride to Philly - then back to their owners later.

Conrail offered to service the Liberty while it was in Philly. And SEPTA drivers would bus the disabled soldiers 200 yards from the train to Lincoln Financial Field, for the game.

A benefactor from the War College ponied up 100 seats to the game - on the 50-yard line - and lunch in a hospitality suite.

And corporate donors filled, for free and without asking for publicity, goodie bags for attendees:

From Woolrich, stadium blankets. From Wal-Mart, digital cameras. From Nikon, field glasses. From GEAR, down jackets.
There was booty not just for the soldiers, but for their guests, too, since each was allowed to bring a friend or family member.

The Marines, though, declined the offer. "They voted not to take guests with them, so they could take more Marines," says Levin, choking up at the memory.

Bennett's an emotional guy, so he was worried about how he'd react to meeting the 88 troops and guests at D. C.'s Union Station, where the trip originated. Some GIs were missing limbs. Others were wheelchair-bound or accompanied by medical personnel for the day. "They made it easy to be with them," he says. "They were all smiles on the ride to Philly. Not an ounce of self-pity from any of them. They're so full of life and determination."

At the stadium, the troops reveled in the game, recalls Bennett. Not even Army's lopsided loss to Navy could deflate the group's rollicking mood.

Afterward, it was back to the train and yet another gourmet meal - heroes get hungry, says Levin - before returning to Walter Reed and Bethesda . "The day was spectacular," says Levin. "It was all about these kids. It was awesome to be part of it."

The most poignant moment for the Levins was when 11 Marines hugged them goodbye, then sang them the Marine Hymn on the platform at Union Station.

"One of the guys was blind, but he said, 'I can't see you, but man, you must be beautiful!' " says Bennett. "I got a lump so big in my throat, I couldn't even answer him."

It's been three weeks, but the Levins and their guests are still feeling the day's love. "My Christmas came early," says Levin, who is Jewish and who loves the Christmas season. "I can't describe the feeling in the air." Maybe it was hope.

As one guest wrote in a thank-you note to Bennett and Vivian, "The fond memories generated last Saturday will sustain us all"

 

95. Taps, Il Silenzio

Taps
Il Silenzio.

This is the full classical version of taps. This is undoubtedly how it's played in heaven. We get the abbreviated version here on earth. At any rate, enjoy: Taps (Il Silenzio)

Talented 13 year old girl performing full rendition of Taps. The girl's name is Melissa Venema and is playing with maestro Andre Rieu from Maastriecht in the Netherlands. She is 13 and has been performing for years. This performance is in 2008 in Masstriecht where city officials sealed off the town square and closed everything down so they get perfect noise control. I am sure all of you that have studied music will appreciate such talent from such a 13 year old young lady. This is the first time I have ever heard the full rendition of Taps and I enjoyed it very much. It is a wonderful performance.

94. Pray You Enough.

Pray You Enough...

Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged, and the mother said, 'I love you, and I pray you enough.'

The daughter replied, 'Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I pray you enough, too, Mom.' They kissed, and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy, but she welcomed me in by asking, 'Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?'

Yes, I have,' I replied. 'Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?'

'Well...I'm not as young as I once was, she lives so far away & has her own busy life. I have some challenges ahead, and the reality is - her next trip back will be for my funeral,' she said.

'When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I pray you enough.' May I ask what that means?'

She began to smile. 'That's a prayer that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.' She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail, and she smiled even more. 'When we said, 'I pray you enough,' we wanted the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.' Then, turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory.

I pray you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear. I pray you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more. I pray you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting. I pray you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger. I pray you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I pray you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I pray you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye. Then, she began to cry, and walked away.

They say, it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but an entire life to forget them.