Help me get 1000 posts

[NewSong]

Jesus, my Lord, how wonderful you are! I don't deserve your gracious gifts
and amazing love. Yet I pray that you would purify my heart, guide my feet,
and fill me to overflowing with your precious Holy Spirit. Enable me, by your grace,
to look "unto Jesus" until your beautiful life transforms my soul. Cleanse and empty
this earthen vessel of all that would hinder the free flow of your living water into
my heart and out to your people. I love You, Jesus, my Savior and my King!

Amen

 

[The Story Teller]

My name?





"The Lord is your Keeper. The Lord is your Shade on your right hand. The sun will not smite you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will protect you from all evil. He will keep your soul. The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in from this time forth, and forever." Psalm 121:5-8





Who Am I...



I was born in 1725, and I died 1807. The only godly influence in my life, as far back as I can remember, was my mother, whom I had for only seven years. When she left my life through death, I was virtually an orphan.



My father remarried, sent me to a strict military school, where the severity of discipline almost broke my back. I couldn't stand it any longer, and I left in rebellion at the age of ten. One year later, deciding that I would never enter formal education again, I became a seaman apprentice, hoping somehow to step into my father's trade and learn at least the ability to skillfully navigate a ship.



By and by, through a process of time, I slowly gave myself over to the devil. And I determined that I could sin to my fill without restraint, now that the righteous lamp of my life had gone out. I did that until my days in the military service, where again discipline worked hard against me, but I further rebelled.



My spirit would not break, and I became increasingly more and more a rebel. Because of a number of things that I disagreed with in the military, I finally deserted, only to be captured like a common criminal and beaten publicly several times.



After enduring the punishment, I again fled. I entertained thoughts of suicide on my way to Africa, deciding that would be the place I could get farthest from anyone that knew me. And again I made a pact with the devil to live for him.



Somehow, through a process of events, I got in touch with a Portuguese slave trader, and I lived in his home. His wife, who was brimming with hostility, took a lot out on me. She beat me, and I ate like a dog on the floor of the home. If I refused to do that, she would whip me with a lash.



I fled penniless, owning only the clothes on my back, to the shoreline of Africa where I built a fire, hoping to attract a ship that was passing by. The skipper thought that I had gold or slaves or ivory to sell and was surprised because I was a skilled navigator. And it was there that I virtually lived for a long period of time. It was a slave ship.



I went through all sorts of narrow escapes with death only a hairbreadth away on a number of occasions. One time I opened some crates of rum and got everybody on the crew drunk. The skipper, incensed with my actions, beat me, threw me down below, and I lived on stale bread and sour vegetables for an unendurable amount of time. He brought me above to beat me again, and I fell overboard. Because I couldn't swim, he harpooned me to get me back on the ship. And I lived with the scar in my side, big enough for me to put my fist into, until the day of my death.



On board, I was inflamed with fever. I was enraged with the humiliation. A storm broke out, and I wound up again in the hold of the ship, down among the pumps. To keep the ship afloat, I worked along as a servant of the slaves. There, bruised and confused, bleeding, diseased, I was the epitome of the degenerate man. I remembered the words of my mother. I cried out to God, the only way I knew, calling upon His grace and His mercy to deliver me, and upon His son to save me. The only glimmer of light I would find was in a crack in the ship in the floor above me, and I looked up to it and screamed for help. God heard me.



Thirty-one years passed, I married a childhood sweetheart. I entered the ministry. In every place that I served, rooms had to be added to the building to handle the crowds that came to hear the gospel that was presented and the story of God's grace in my life.



My tombstone above my head reads, "Born 1725, died 1807. A clerk, once an infidel and libertine, a servant of slaves in Africa, was by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the faith he once long labored to destroy."



I decided before my death to put my life's story in verse. And that verse has become a hymn.



My name?





John Newton.

The hymn? "Amazing Grace."

 

[The Story Teller]

The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10



The Jabez Prayer

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That Your hand would be with me,

And that You would keep me from evil,

That I may not cause pain!”

1 Chronicles 4:10

 

[NewSong]

READ DIRECTIONS CAREFULLY!!
HOW TO COOK A BAKED STUFFED TURKEY

BAKED STUFFED TURKEY
6-7 lb. turkey
1 cup melted butter
1 cup stuffing (Pepperidge Farm is good.) 1 cup uncooked popcorn
(ORVILLE REDENBACHERS LOW FAT) salt/pepper to taste
_____________________________
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. ​

Brush turkey well with melted butter, salt, and pepper. Fill cavity with stuffing and popcorn. Place in baking pan with the neck end toward the back of the oven. Listen for the popping sounds. ​

When the turkey's butt blows the oven door open and flies across the room, it's done. ​

And, you thought I couldn't cook ......​

 

[The Story Teller]

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

To Bobbie
​

​

I want to tell you how much I appreciate you.

I realize that all through our marriage you

have worked hard and have always been

there when I needed you.

Through the tears, joy, and laughter we

have stuck together.

Now after 29 years I wish I could take back

all the times I disappointed you.

For all that you have been through with

me, I just want to say I LOVE YOU.

Happy Anniversary
​

and
​

Happy Valentine’s Day
​

​

Richard
​

 

[The Story Teller]

​

​

​

To Susan
​

​

Your Life Holds
​

Unlimited Potential
​

and Wonderful Dreams
​

​

You have the ability
​

to attain whatever you seek;
​

within you is every potential
​

you can imagine.
​

Always aim higher than
​

you believe you can reach.
​

So often, you'll discover
​

that when your talents
​

are set free
​

by your imagination,
​

you can achieve any goal.
​

If people offer their
​

help or wisdom
​

as you go through life,
​

accept it gratefully.
​

You can learn much from those
​

who have gone before you.
​

But never be afraid or hesitant
​

to step off the accepted path
​

and head off in your own direction
​

if your heart tells you
​

that it's the right way for you.
​

Always believe that you will
​

ultimately succeed
​

at whatever you do,
​

and never forget the value
​

of persistence, discipline,
​

and determination.
​

You are meant to be
​

whatever you dream
​

of becoming.
​

​

Follow your dream!
​

 

[NewSong]

BEEF STEW WITH HERBED DUMPLINGS

For stew
4 pounds boneless beef chuck, cut into 1-inch cubes
2 tablespoons peanut oil
4 thick-sliced bacon strips, chopped
3 cups finely chopped onions
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 bay leaf
5 1/2 cups canned beef broth
1 14 1/2-ounce can crushed tomatoes with added purée

6 medium carrots, peeled, cut diagonally into 1-inch pieces
3 medium rutabagas, peeled, cut into 3/4-inch pieces

For dumplings
2/3 cup whole milk
2 large eggs
3 tablesthingys minced chives
2 tablesthingys minced fresh Italian parsley
1 1/2 cups unbleached all purpose flour
4 teaspoon baking powder
§ teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons cornstarch


Make stew:
Position rack in center of oven; preheat to 325°F. Pat beef dry. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Heat oil in heavy large ovenproof pot over medium-high heat. Working in batches, cook beef until brown, stirring occasionally and scraping up browned bits, about 8 minutes. Transfer meat to bowl.
Add bacon to same pot. Sauté until crisp, scraping up browned bits, about 5 minutes. Add onions, garlic, thyme and bay leaf. Cover and cook until onions are tender, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Return beef and any accumulated juices to pot. Add 5 cups canned beef broth and crushed tomatoes with purée. Cover and bring to simmer.

Transfer pot to oven. Bake until beef is just tender, stirring occasionally, about 1 hour. Add carrots and rutabagas. Cover; bake until vegetables are crisp-tender, about 30 minutes. Uncover; bake until beef is very tender, about 25 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare dumplings:
Whisk milk and eggs in medium bowl to blend. Stir in chives and parsley. Let stand at room temperature 30 minutes. Sift flour, baking powder and salt into large bowl. Add milk mixture. Stir just until blended.

Whisk remaining 1/2 cup canned beef broth and cornstarch in small bowl to blend. Bring stew to simmer over medium heat. Gradually stir cornstarch mixture into stew. Return stew to simmer, stirring until sauce thickens.

Spoon dumpling batter in 12 dollops atop simmering stew. Cover tightly; simmer until dumplings are puffed and tester inserted into center of dumplings comes out clean, about 15 minutes.

Serve stew with dumplings.



Serves 6.

 

[The Story Teller]

YHWH is "God"

​

Who is God?

Who is God? Does He have a proper name, or is it just "God"? Is His name "Lord"? Is it Jehovah or JHVH? Does it even matter if He has a name and we call Him by it? With the guidance of the Ruah Ha Kodesh (Holy Spirit), and teachers such as Lew White (some of the information on this website is from Mr. White's book Fossilized Customs) and Ellen G. White (no relation to Lew White), I will answer these queries and many more you might have in the following paragraphs and pages of this website. I thank Almighty YHWH for the knowledge He has given me, for without Him teaching me, none of this would be possible.

First we'll look into the meaning of the name "God". What does it really mean? The term God was used by many ancient pagan religions, most especially the Gaelic Viking/Old English proper name for the sun, Gott, the supreme deity of the Druids; also known as Woden, or Odin. The fourth day of the Gregorian calender, Wednesday (which means Woden's Day,) is named after him.

The actual word used in the Holy Writings to represent YHWH is "Elohim" or a shorter form is "El", which means Mighty-One. The word elohim is a plural formation of eloah, the latter being an expanded form of the Common Semitic noun 'il. The word eloah, elohim, and el is also used to represent other gods. The short form, El, is seen in many Hebrew names: MichaEL (Who is like Elohim?), RaphaEL (Healing Elohim), YisraEL (SAR = prince, + EL), GabriEL (Warrior of EL), YishmaEL (Heard of EL), ShemuEL (Samuel, Shem = name; hence means name of EL), ImmanuEL (Another name for Rabbi Yashua, our Savior; which means EL with us), YahEL (erroneously spelled Joel, means Yah is EL).

In translating this pronoun into the various Gentile languages, the vernacular term for each language's principle deity was substituted, so, often the personal proper names of pagan idols were slipped into usage - as happened in our English. The Nordic/Teutonic people worshipped the sun, which they called Gott or Got; so, to simplify the concept, copyists used the term that was best known to the hearers - thus adapting them with a minimum of effort and culture shock. For the same reason, behavior was retained that was previously pagan worship, but slowly became re-defined and new meanings were designed for a more "Scriptural" interpretation. The Encyclopedia Americana (A.D. 1945) explains the inculturation under the topic GOD.

Many ancient Mid-Eastern cultures worshipped a god named El. This god is not to be mistaken as YHWH however. The religion and worship of this god, El, was derived from the Yahwehist religion of the Hebrews. For more information on this topic please refer to the Dictionary Of Deities And Demons In The Bible (Edited by Karl van der Toorn, Bob Becking, and Pieter W. van der Horst; A.D. 1999).

​

The Word "Lord". What Does it Mean?



The meaning of "Lord" is very interesting. The story begins about 586 B.C., when the Hebrews were captive in Babylon (during Daniel's time; DaniEL's name means Judgement of El). The Babylonians knew the Hebrews were called "Yahudim", bearing the Name of Yah, their Elohim. To ridicule them, these pagans began calling them Yahoo's. The fear of the Name being misused or treated as "common" (blasphemed) by their lips was too evil for them to allow, so they required the death penalty for anyone pronouncing it aloud who was not a kohen (priest). The Name (YHWH) came to be vocalized only once each year by the kohen gadol (high priest) inside the Temple's Qodesh ha'Qodeshim (Holiest of Holies) in a quiet voice. When anyone read aloud from the Torah Scroll (the Law of Mosheh [Hellenized to "Moses"] ), the Nevi'im (Prophets), or the Kethuvim (Writings), the Name was not uttered (TaNaKh is an acronymfor Torah, Nevi'im, & Kethuvim, which "Christians" call the Old Testament). The reader would say instead "Adonai" (which means "my Sovereign") or sometimes "HaShem" (which means "the Name"). The Prophet Yerme Yahu (Jeremiah) at chapter 23:27 spoke in the power of the Blessed One saying that lying teachers of the people were misleading them, and that their teachings were just being "dreamed up" - "they think the dreams they tell one another will make My people forget My Name, just as their fathers forgot My Name through Baal". Do you know what is most disturbing about what this is saying? "Baal" is Hebrew for "Lord". So when Christians call upon the "Lord", they are actually invoking the name of Baal. Satan works in subtle ways. Many of Satan's secrets will be exposed on this website.

"Lord" is an English word which comes from loverd, which stems from "hlaford, hlafweard, which means "keeper of the bread" or "guardian of the loaf" (hlaf = LOAF + weard = WARD), not a name at all! It certainly isn't the Name the Blessed One was referring to when He said what the prophet Yesha Yahu (Isaiah) wrote at Yesha Yahu 12:1-6. I will explain the true Name of our Elohim shortly.

​

What About the Name Jehovah?



What I'm about to explain may upset many Jehovah's Witnesses and many others who have been taught that JHVH or Jehovah is the true name of our Creator, is actually nothing but one HUGE mistranslated mistake. However, my intentions are not to upset anybody, only to enlighten them. What I'm about to explain can be proven in any decent encyclopedia. It's there, you just have to do your homework and not believe what your "church" tells you to believe just because you have the impression that the pastor and elders are infallible.

We can credit this huge mistake to Petrus Galatinus, who lived in the 16th century. In A.D. 1520 Galatinus mistranslated the tetragram YHWH into JHVH, and he inserted the vowels of another word, Adonai.

There is no letter "J" in Hebrew, Greek, or Latin, and in fact, the letter J didn't even exist until the 16th century. The ignorance of the Christian scribes were responsible for this, because they had shunned learning Hebrew because of their profound anti-Semitism. They could read the letters, but they didn't realize that the Masoretes (a group of 10th century Hebrews) had inserted the vowels of the word "Adonai" beneath the Name to "cue" a Hebrew-speaking person reading aloud to vocalize "Adonai" instead of the true Name.

Did you know that 'hovah' is Hebrew for 'great evil' or 'destruction'? This is another one of Satan's subtle plans to purge the Name of the Blessed One from our thoughts and prayers. Satan wants to totally erase our Creator's Name from the face of the Earth, and so far Satan has executed this plan with the utmost precission. The gulf between man-made / Satan influenced traditions and the teachings of YHWH widens more and more every century, and Rabbi Yahshua pointed out this very problem. As Christianity evolved, it made our Mashiach (Messiah), Rabbi Yahshua, appear to be much less Torah-observant than He is. As Judaism evolved without the Temple and emphasis was placed on the 'bet ha knesset' (synagogue), "rabbinical Judaism" further established "fences" (read: legalism that Rabbi Yahshua warned us about) around commandements, thus adding much more to what was expected. So, Torah-derived teachings took a backseat to rabbinical-derived teachings.

 

[The Story Teller]

The Real Name of Our Elohim!



The true Name of our Creator is YHWH (Yahweh). (prounced Yah - way) The four letters are called "The Tetragrammaton", which is Greek for "four letters". His Name in Hebrew as found in the original scrolls of the Holy Writings as written by the prophets, is spelled here: . However, this is not the oldest known spelling of His Name. The oldest known language on Earth is Paleo-Hebrew. The stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments that YHWH gave to Mosheh was written in Paleo-Hebrew. Here is the Paleo-Hebrew spelling of His name: .

Here is what the Encyclopedia Britannica has to say regarding our Creator's Holy Name:

The God of the Israelites, his name being revealed to Moses as four Hebrew CONSONANTS (YHWH) CALLED THE TETRAGRAMMATON. AFTER THE EXILE (6TH CENTURY BC), and especially from the 3rd century BC on, Jews ceased to use the name Yahweh for two reasons. As Judaism became a universal religion through its proselytizing in the Greco-Roman world, the more common noun elohim, meaning "god," tended to replace Yahweh to demonstrate the universal sovereignty of Israel's God over all others. At the same time, the divine name was increasingly regarded as too sacred to be uttered; it was thus replaced vocally in the synagogue ritual by the Hebrew word Adonai ("My Lord"), which was translated as Kyrios ("Lord") in the Septuagint, the Greek version of the Old Testament.

The Masoretes, who from about the 6th to the 10th century worked to reproduce the original text of the Hebrew Bible, replaced the vowels of the name YHWH with the vowel signs of the Hebrew words Adonai or Elohim. Thus, the artificial name Jehovah (YeHoWaH) came into being. Although Christian scholars after the Renaissance and Reformation periods used the term Jehovah for YHWH, in the 19th and 20th centuries biblical scholars again began to use the form Yahweh. Early Christian writers, such as Clement of Alexandria in the 2nd century, had used a form like Yahweh, and this pronunciation of the tetragrammaton was never really lost. Other Greek transcriptions also indicated that YHWH should be pronounced Yahweh.

The meaning of the personal name of the Israelite God has been variously interpreted. Many scholars believe that the most proper meaning may be "He Brings Into Existence Whatever Exists" (Yahweh-Asher-Yahweh). In I Samuel, God is known by the name Yahweh Teva-'ot, or "He Brings the Hosts Into Existence," the hosts possibly referring to the heavenly court or to Israel.

The personal name of God probably was known long before the time of Moses. The name of Moses' mother was Jochebed (Yokheved), a word based on the name Yahweh. Thus, the tribe of Levi, to which Moses belonged, probably knew the name Yahweh, which originally may have been (in its short form Yo, Yah, or Yahu) a religious invocation of no precise meaning evoked by the mysterious and awesome splendour of the manifestation of the holy.

​

Why Should We Call Upon Our Elohim's True Name?



Let's say your name is George, and you're a co-worker or go to the same synagogue as me, but when ever I see you I call you Bill. How would you feel? Another thing I would like to point out is that the Blessed One tells us to call on His name throughtout the Chumesh (pagans have named it the "Bible"), but how are we suppossed to call on His name if we don't know it. Our Creator has a proper name and should be called upon by his TRUE name. I will support this with Scriptural references. All we have to do is just pick up the Chumesh.

Remember that in some modern-day "Bibles", YHWH has been replaced by "LORD" in all capital letters. Here are some quotes from the Holy Writings:

"I am YHWH, that is my name;
And My glory I will not give to another,
Nor My praise to carved images"
- Yesha Yahu 42:8

For all people walk each in the name of his elohim,
But we will walk in the name of YHWH our Elohim
Forever and ever.
- Micah 4:5

"...And there Avram (Abram) called on the name of YHWH."
- Genesis 13:4

"Mosheh said to Elohim, "When I come to the Yisraelites and say to them 'The Elohim of your fathers has sent Me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is His name?' what shall I say to them?" And Elohim said to Mosheh, "Ehyeh-Asher-Eyeh." He continued, "Thus shall you say to the Yisrealites, 'Ehyeh sent me to you.' " And Elohim said further to Mosheh, "Thus shall you speak to the Yisrealites: YHWH, the Elohim of your fathers, the Elohim of Avraham, the Elohim of Isaac, and the Elohim of Ya'Aqob, has sent me to you:
This shall be My name forever,
This My appellation for all eternity.
- Exodus 3:14, 15

"If you do not carefuly observe all the words of this law that are written in this book, that you may fear this glorious and awesome name, YHWH YOUR ELOHIM, then YHWH will bring upon you and your descendants extraordinary plagues - great and prolonged plagues - and serious and prolonged sicknessess..."
- Deuteronomy 28:58, 59

And for those who know Your name will put trust in You;
For You, YHWH, have not forsaken those who seek you.
- Psalm 9:10

The name of YHWH is a strong tower;
The righteous run to it and are safe.
- Proverbs 18:10

see also -
2 Chronicles 7:14
Psalms 8, 76:1, 79, 115:1, 138:1-2
Proverbs 26:13, 63:16
Malachi 1:11, 4:2
Mattit Yahu 6:9
Revelation 14:1

 

[The Story Teller]

You Got Another One, Joey!

by Bob Perks

from "Chicken Soup for the Volunteer's Soul"



I couldn't believe it. Of all the times for this to happen . . . a flat tire. But when is a good time? Not when you are wearing a suit and you have been traveling for nearly five hours and, added to this bleak picture, nightfall is approaching. Wait! Did I mention I was on a country road?



There was only one thing to do. Call the local Automobile Association. Yeah, right. The cell phone I bought, for security and protection from moments like these, isn't in range to call anyone. "No Service," it says. No kidding! I thought.



I sat for a few minutes moaning and complaining. Then I began emptying my trunk so I could get at the tire and tools needed to get the job done. I carry a large plastic container filled with what I call "just-in-case-stuff." When I am training or speaking I love to have props with me. I hate leaving anything home so I bring everything . . . "just in case."



Cars buzzed by me. A few beeped sarcastically. It was as if the horns were saying, "Ha, ha."



Darkness began to settle in, and it became more difficult to see. Thank goodness it was the tire on the passenger's side, away from the traffic-but that only made it more impossible to benefit from the headlights of passing cars.



Suddenly a car pulled off the road behind me. In the blinding light, I saw a male figure approaching me.



"Hey, do you need any help?"



"Well, it certainly isn't easy doing this with a white dress shirt and suit on," I said sarcastically.



Then he stepped into the light. I was literally frightened. This young guy was dressed in black. Nearly everything imaginable was pierced and tattooed. His hair was cropped and poorly cut and he wore leather bracelets with spikes on each wrist.



"How about I give you a hand?" he said.



"Well, I don't know . . . I think I can . . ."



"Come on, it will only take me a few minutes."



He took right over. While I watched him, I happened to look back at his car and noticed, for the first time, someone sitting in the passenger seat. That concerned me. I suddenly felt outnumbered. Thoughts of car-jackings and robberies flashed through my mind. I really just wanted to get this over and survive the ordeal.



Then, without warning, it began to pour. The night sky had hidden the approaching clouds. It hit like a waterfall and made it impossible to finish changing the tire.



"Look my friend, just stop what you're doing. I appreciate all your help. You'd better get going. I'll finish after the rain stops," I said.



"Let me help you put your stuff back in the trunk. It will get ruined," he insisted. "Then get in my car. We'll wait with you."



"No, really. I'll take care of everything," I said.



"You can't get in your car with the jack up like that. It will fall. Come on. Get in!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the car. Crack! Boom! Lightening and thunder roared like a freight train. I jumped into his car. Oh, God protect me, I prayed to myself.



Wet and tired, I settled into the back seat. Suddenly a kindly, frail voice came from the front seat. "Are you all right?" A petite old woman asked as she turned around to face me.



"Yes, I am," I replied, greatly relieved at seeing the old woman there. I suspected she was his mom.



"My name is Beatrice, and this is my neighbor, Joey," she said. "He insisted on stopping when he saw you struggling with the tire."



"I am grateful for his help," I responded.



"Me, too." Beatrice laughed. "Joey takes me to visit my husband. We had to place him in a nursing home, and it's about thirty minutes away from my residence. So, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Joey and I have a date." With a childish grin she looked at Joey.



Joey's whimsical remark, "We're the remake of the Odd Couple," gave us all a good laugh.



"Joey, that's incredible what you do for her. I would never have guessed, well, you know I . . ." I stumbled with the words.



"I know. People who look like me don't do nice things," he said.



I was silent. I really felt uncomfortable. I never judge people by the way they dress, and I was angry with myself for being so foolish.



"Joey is a great kid. I'm not the only one he helps-he's also a volunteer at our church. He also works with the kids in the learning center at the low income housing unit in our town," Beatrice added.



"I'm a tutor," Joey said modestly as he stared at my car.



I reflected for a few moments on what Joey said. He was right. What he wore on the outside was a reflection of the world as he saw it. What he wore on the inside was the spirit of giving, caring and loving the world from his point of view.



When the rain stopped, Joey and I changed the tire. I tried to offer him money, and he refused.



As we shook hands, I began to apologize for my stupidity. He said, "I experience that same reaction all the time. I actually thought about changing the way I look, but then I saw this as an opportunity to make a point. So I'll leave you with the same question that I ask everyone who takes time to know me. 'If Jesus returned tomorrow and walked among us again, would you recognize him by what he wore or by what he did?'"



Joey walked back to his car. As they drove off, Beatrice was smiling and waving as she began to laugh again. I could almost hear her saying, "You got another one Joey. You got another one."



Bob Perks

from "Chicken Soup for the Volunteer's Soul"



Robert C. Perks is president of Creative Motivation and author of the book "The Flight of a Lifetime." He is a Member of the National Writer's Association and a training consultant with the state of Pennsylvania. He is a contributing author in Chicken Soup for the Prisoner's Soul, Touched by Angels of Mercy, and Chicken Soup for the Volunteer's Soul. He may be reached at P.O. Box 1702, Shavertown, PA 18708-1024; e-mail: Bob@BobPerks.com; Web site: http://www.bobperks.com.



You Got Another One, Joey! Reprinted by permission of Robert C. Perks. © 2000 Robert C. Perks from "Chicken Soup for the Volunteer's Soul" by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Arline McGraw Oberst, John T. Boal, Tom Lagana and Laura Lagana. In order to protect the rights of the copyright holder, no portion of this publication may be reproduced without prior written consent. All rights reserved. For more information on "Chicken Soup for the Volunteer's Soul" contact co-author, Tom Lagana at e-mail: Success@TomLagana.com or Web site: http://www.TomLagana.com



Submitted by Richard

 

[The Story Teller]

CONTENTS
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1. Melanie Page 4



2. Imaging: A New Thing…………Page 7



3. Imaging: The Fruits……………..Page 11



4. Imaging: Angel In Our Midst……Page 13



5. Imaging: A Healing Tool……….Page 16



6. Imaging: Nature's Window…….Page 24



7. Imaging: Not Magic……………Page 27



8. Imaging: Beyond – Classroom…Page 30



9. Imaging: A Great Moment…….Page 35



10. Imaging: Miracle………………Page 38













REFLECTION………Page 43

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"Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old.

Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; do ye not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert."

















ISAIAH 43:18

PREFACE
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The purpose in writing this story was not to bring attention to the innovative teaching techniques of Sharon Caprio or to glorify the life and personality of Melanie Andrews.



Through the tragic, seemingly chaotic circumstances that seem to shape and form the substance of our lives --- a thread of "understanding" can bring peace to a troubled soul.



My search for understanding the reason surrounding Melanie's death began a year ago and ended with the story "The Gift of Imaging". Jesus's words: "Ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find, knock and the door will be opened onto you", became a glorious reality in my experience.



The entire story is but a "gentle reflection" of the magnanimous love of God. It accomplishes my initial heart's desire…to rekindle the belief that "all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His Purpose".



To appreciate this gentle story of faith and love, you must first forsake your adult mind with all its misgivings and take on the mind "of a child". For until you do so, you cannot enter into the realm of God's love.

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MELANIE
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Melanie always grinned when she placed her papers in my hand to be corrected.

How often I was lifted from the daily routine tasks of a Kindergarten teacher by one of her sweet, angelic smiles.



Melanie's gentle countenance awakened within me memories of a time when innocence, trust, and a child-like faith characterized the early years of my life. The child in me responded to this pleasant memory. These and other thoughts commanded my attention the day I received word of Melanie Andrews untimely death.



Mrs. Andrews and her three children; Melanie, Becky and Gary were stopped at a traffic light when a tractor trailer crashed into the back of the family car…crushing the life out of Melanie; critically injuring three year old Becky and leaving eight year old Gary and

Mrs. Andrews badly bruised - but alive!



Melanie lived seventeen hours after the point of impact but she was totally unconscious and dependent on a life support system. She died twelve noon the following day, January 4, 1984.



The reality of Melanie's death aroused a myriad of emotions within me. My conscious mind was incessantly tormented with mental images of Melanie's smiling face. At first, feelings of anger overwhelmed me accompanied by the inevitable question…WHY?



A sense of the "temporary status" of all human relationships crushed my faith in "status quo". Life held no guarantees that my four children would live to adulthood or that I would be spared the heartache of losing a child. These thoughts made me feel like a "victim of circumstances", rather than the child of a loving, protecting Father.



As a believer, I accepted the words of Jesus when he spoke lovingly of the Father's care for His children; "He knows every sparrow that falls", and "the very hairs on your head are numbered".



In lieu of the nature of Melanie's death…these beautiful sounding words were less than palatable. I knew my faith was being tested, but I didn't care! If in truth our lives were in the hands of a capricious God, then He didn't deserve my allegiance!



After my maternal anger dissipated, I challenged God to reveal a higher purpose in this painful human situation. To embrace, again, the belief; "all things work together for good", was imperative for the renewal of my faith. If my faith was weak, I imagined what

Melanie's parents must be experiencing. I wanted to express words of hope and comfort to them, but my words seemed empty and meaningless. No well-meaning spiritual platitudes would receive welcome at this time, I conjectured. Besides, their energy and strength was being consumed rapidly as they maintained a constant vigil over their youngest child, Becky, who remained in critical condition.



Gradually my concern shifted from myself and Melanie's parents to my afternoon

Kindergarten class. Melanie's absence would be strongly felt by the children. Her gentle, loving personality endeared her to all of us. I knew their inquisitive minds would be challenged with questions that had no satisfactory answers for their tender years…nor for

 

[The Story Teller]

my middle-aged years! Death has a way of reducing us all to one common level! It comes as a thief-insidiously threatening our "sense of well-being" and our "earthly attachments".



Would death have her sting? What dark foreboding image would she create in their imaginations? Would fear of life and death have the final victory in their young minds? So often our first mental impressions derived through traumatic "life and death" experiences become fixed fears carved in granite upon our consciousness. As we get older, fearful images increase in strength and magnitude until they control the conscious mind.



I became acutely aware of the necessity to effect a change in the consciousness of every child in that class…a change for positive good! This seemed an unrealistic goal considering the tragic circumstances. However, I was filled with an inner determination to :shift their perception" from a dark, grim picture of death, to one of peace, hope and unceasing love. My responsibility to the children became clear! I would not allow Melanie's death to be swallowed up in one useless phrase; "a senseless tragedy'!



If every living, creeping, crawling creature on earth had a purpose…so did our

Melanie! It was this spiritual vision I chose to salvage from the ruins of material consciousness.



My past experiences served to remind me of the assistance of heaven's "unseen helpers" in the affairs of man. Knowing I was not alone in this endeavor gave me the courage to face the children the following day.

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IMAGING: A NEW THING
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As the children entered the room, they were abnormally quiet. Some faces showed the strain of grief more than others. Two or three girls came in crying softly. As they approached my desk, I felt myself reach out to comfort them with words of hope rather than sympathy. I called the children up to the area rug. There, they made a semi-circle around my chair. A quick uncomfortable glance over the group threatened my confidence.

At that moment, I turned within to ask for divine guidance. I prayed God's words would pour through me and touch the hearts and minds of every child. I knew it would come if I relaxed, let go and allow it to flow. We had been practicing the art of "imaging" throughout the year. Poetry was an effective tool to awaken the creative skills involved in imaginative thinking. But today, something else would dominate the imaging process.



I invited some of Melanie's closest friends to speak first. They had difficulty expressing their thoughts without losing control.



Gary, an outspoken child, broke the silence with the statement: Melanie was run over by a truck yesterday. The stark reality of his words forced us all to deal with this unpleasant fact immediately! After the children shared their knowledge about the nature of Melanie's death, I felt the urgency to shift their attention from the gruesome details of the accident and the finality of death to a higher level of perception.



"Where do you think Melanie is right now, I asked"? Julie said with quite confidence, "her spirit has left her body and gone to be with God". Another child said "she is with Jesus in heaven". Billy, a somewhat somber child, said emphatically, "she's went into the gray". Another classmate predicted Melanie was now an "angel in heaven". This last response made me mindful of an incident that occurred the night I received word of Melanie's death. My son, Tommy, having watched the movie "It's A Wonderful Life", reminded me of the bell-ringing being a symbolic of an angel getting their wings. As he lay in bed, he suddenly blurted out: "did you hear a bell ring, Mom"? "No, I didn't Tom, why do you ask"? Remember if a bell rings, that means an angel gets her wings. I heard a bell ring and I think Melanie got her wings. "I believe you're right Tom", I replied convincing myself. Little did I realize his words "she's an angel" would become an increasing reality as the days and weeks progressed.



I repeated the entire conversation I had with Tommy to the class and concluded…Tommy heard a bell ring and he believes Melanie "got her wings". Many of the children seemed to derive comfort from this thought. The majority expressed a belief that their dear friend, Melanie was with God.



Going a step further, I dared to ask, "Who is God"? Mary's answer surprised and encouraged me. "God is love", she responded. Well, if God is love, I said, what things might we see and feel in the presence of the love?



Some children associated God with the concept of warmth, safety, and light. Animals, rainbows, and sunshine were familiar contacts with God's presence. Most of the children felt a sense of extreme happiness attached to the concept of God.



Following this discussion, I asked the children what they remembered most about Melanie. Almost all agrees her smiling face was her most endearing and memorable quality. Her gentle loving nature was visible in her peer-group relationships.



As we reflected on Melanie's positive attributes, the children were becoming more relaxed and comfortable with the discussion. I gradually led them into the imaging process:



Let's close our eyes, still our bodies, and allow our imagination to send us the pictures we desire to see…



I can see Melanie's face. It is just as I remember it. She has a happy smile. I see her in this place of love, light, warmth, and happiness. Melanie is standing under a tree. There are pretty flowers of all different colors around the tree and the grass is green, green, green. Soft, white fluffy clouds are floating by. Little kittens are playing near Melanie's feet. She is reaching down to pet their soft, silky fur. A warm, bright light is shining all around Melanie and the kittens. She is smiling again!



Melanie wants us to know how happy she feels. Now, see a balloon with the words "I Love You" on it. See yourself blowing up the balloon, filling it with your love. Now, see yourself letting go of your balloon! See it rise higher and higher into the sky! It goes up past the moon and the stars, higher to that place of "light and love"!



As I spoke, it seemed as though I was being transported to this heavenly realm and the face of Melanie shone through me without conscious thought. As the spontaneous flow of words created the visual images, I could feel myself being lifted to a higher level of understanding. I believed the children felt this same sense of up-liftment. When I opened my eyes to check their concentration, I noticed a look of enchantment on several faces, while others appeared quietly serene.



I continued the imaging; "look! Melanie caught your balloon"! Your gift of love has made her very happy! She is laughing and dancing around as she catches our balloons! Even the kittens are trying to catch the balloons. Melanie is happy that we remember her! She will live in our hearts and minds FOREVER! We can send a love message anytime we want…all we have to do is "close our eyes and picture Melanie's smiling face".



At the conclusion of the imagery, I encouraged the children to negate any pictures or thoughts about Melanie that were opposed to this happy, smiling child we saw today.



Silence enveloped the atmosphere and we awakened…as if from a dream.

 

[The Story Teller]

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IMAGING: THE FRUITS
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After we opened our eyes, the spirit of oppression and sadness had lifted from our midst. A peaceful expression appeared on the faces of the children. Our hearts and minds made contact with a power that transcends the deepest hurts ad fears.



Death won no victory today! Through the power of love and child-like faith, we rose above the shadows of darkness and fears. This precious moment would carve a memory in our minds forever. Reflections of a higher purpose were beginning to take shape in my mind. I believed time and patience would increase my understanding even further.



The week following Melanie's death, Mrs. Smith, the mother of one of my students, stopped to pick up her daughter, Ellen. Before leaving she commented about the impact Melanie's death had on her daughter. She said Ellen had been in a state of depression and words could not console her. Mrs. Smith expressed gratitude for my influence in changing Ellen's attitude about death. "Ellen came home and told me everything you did with the class that day", she said. "Ellen's entire outlook about the death (of Melanie) had changed", she exclaimed. Mrs. Smith said Ellen described in detail how she saw Melanie in a warm, happy place, surrounded by light and love. After listening to Ellen, I could feel my own depression lift", said Mrs. Smith. As Ellen's mother spoke, her eyes were brimming over with tears. Her words stirred my faith. I could feel the joy rise up in me as the realization of what God accomplished that day became crystallized in my consciousness.



At conference time, another parent expressed her gratitude for "how I handled the situation" with her daughter. Mrs. Harvey said Tracy questioned her about being so sad. "Why are you so sad, Mommy"? "Don't you know Melanie is an angel now"? "She's got her wings"! "Don't be sad"! She is happy where she is and we should be happy for her, said Tracy. Mrs. Harvey expressed amazement at the change in her daughters attitude. She was both inspired and encouraged by her daughter's expression of faith.



God has surely touched the hearts and minds of these children. In spite of everything, a loving, caring God was coming through.

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ANGEL IN OUR MIDST
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Melanie's mother came in to see me a few months after her daughter's death. She brought her youngest child, Becky, with her. Mrs. Andrews was pleased to report the rapid healing progress Becky was experiencing. Despite the negative medical predictions, Becky overcame all odds. "It's like a miracle", Mrs. Andrews said with confidence. Since Becky was also on a life support system after the accident, Mrs. Andrews felt that Melanie transferred her strength to Becky before she died. I certainly marveled at her energy and alertness.



We spent considerable time sharing memories of inspired moments spent with Melanie. Mrs. Andrews said she always had a deep inner knowing that Melanie would not live long…because she was so good! "She was not just a good child, she was "perfect" in every way, Mrs. Andrews said emphatically.



As a teacher, I could not recall one instance when I had to reprimand Melanie in the classroom. She was considerate of others, cooperative, pleasant and enthusiastic about school. She spoke softly and smiled broadly! Her eyes literally sparkled when she smiled…which was most of the time. We both agreed the term "angelic" aptly described Melanie's personality. This child transmitted love through her eyes, her smile, her relationships with other classmates, friends and family members. In many ways, she became our teacher in the ways of love.



Mrs. Andrews explained how difficult it was for her to express feelings through words or demonstrations of affection. Melanie taught me how to say, "I love you", to my children and how to express that love through affection confessed Mrs. Andrews. Every night Melanie would express her love to her mother. The love generated through Melanie, activated the deep reservoirs of love that lay dormant within Mrs. Andrews. Melanie lit the spark and the flame would continue to be a testimony of love's presents. Loved seemed to be the dominant influence in this child's life.



Mrs. Andrews gave me a slip of paper that Melanie had written two days before her death. The words read: Mrs. Caprio, I love you. The last day Melanie attended school, she drew a beautiful rainbow with the word "love" written in the center of the picture. What amazed her mother about the drawing was the mature formation of the letters "love". Mrs. Andrews asked me if I wrote the word for her daughter and if the entire class had drawn rainbows that day. I could not recall any such assignment or having written the word "love" for Melanie.



Two days prior to her death, Melanie was unusually upset. Through her tears she blurted out these prophetic words to her confused mother: "I'm not going to see Daddy again". Mrs. Andrews was quick to dismiss this morbid thought from their presence. She sought to comfort her daughter with words of peace and love. Mr. Andrews was on a business trip in Texas at the time and remained there until the news of the accident.



I questioned the significance of Melanie's words. Did this little soul have inner knowledge that her earthly life was coming to an end? What heavenly assignments were accomplished through this child's embodiment on earth? Was her life the fulfillment of a Divine Plan not yet revealed but only momentarily obscured by the loss of her gentle presence? These questions were searching for answers in my mind.



I was becoming more confident in my original premise; "all things work together for good according to God's purposes". I strongly believed time and patience would reveal a Divine Purpose.

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IMAGING: A HEALING TOOL
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I was beginning to see the "Shade Of His Hand" in the experiences leading up to and following Melanie's death. As a teacher, the imaging process NOW became more valuable as a tool for awakening within ourselves, the power and magnitude of "love's presence". As the class learned how to extend this creative power to all within their reach, it brought a sense of peace and purpose into their lives. The children felt a loving link with one another and soon adopted the title of being "love transmitters". The imaging process now became the "Gift of Imaging".



As the months progressed, I felt compelled to use the imaging process more often with the children. I began to incorporate techniques that encouraged feelings of love and caring for one another. We made a daily practice of imaging ourselves blowing up a balloon with love and sending it to someone we felt needed it. The variety of individual response was tremendous! Balloons of love were sent to parents, grandparents, pets, brothers, sisters, friends, relatives, the president, God, Jesus, the teacher, deceased relatives, deceased pets, etc.



The children began to request "making pictures" (Imaging) for those in their environment who were sick, lonely, sad, hospitalized, fearful, deceased, etc. They would hold a picture (or image) of that individual (or themselves if needed) in their mind…there, through the activity of their imagination, they would visualize that person in an atmosphere of light, love and happiness. Many times stressful situations would arise in their lives. Imaging provided a means to deal with the problem on a positive level.



One such experience happened in my A.m. Kindergarten class. Diana came in crying because she lost her favorite ring. She had shown the ring to the class during "Show and Tell", the previous day. Somehow it had gotten lost and she was very stressful. Diana asked if the class could "picture" for her. The children had empathy for Diana's predicament, so collectively we all "pictured" Diana's holding the ring in her hand. We pictured her smiling and anticipated her joy at recovering the lost ring. We all made a silent wish…our pictures would come a reality. After the imaging exercise, Diana's facial expression was noticeably happier. She was lifted form a negative, fearful consciousness to a consciousness of hope and peace. You can imagine the joy we felt when she came in the next day, excitedly waving the ring in the air and crying loudly, "I found it, I found it"!



Each day different needs were brought to the attention of the class with an expressed desire for picturing:

 

[The Story Teller]

ALAN'S mother went into the hospital, he wanted us to picture with him.

SUSAN missed her dead kitten.

MARTY couldn't sleep at night.

ANDY'S grandmother was very sick.

DONNA had a nagging head cold.

TOMMY was upset if he couldn't sit near Billy.

JUDY missed her mother.

JOEY'S father hurt his back.

ANDREA worried about her baby sister.

DAVID was scared in bed at night.



Through picturing, the children found a way to work through their daily problems. They were able to transcend the threatening appearance of being "victims" in a fearful unpredictable adult-controlled world. Imaging gave them an opportunity to exercise individual responsibility for the stressful situations in their lives.



I was overjoyed when several students announced they were practicing the imaging process at home. Becky, a sweet, sensitive child, reported one such occasion. "Mommy and Daddy were having a fight"! Mommy was very sad and I was scared. I "pictured" Mommy with a happy face and saw them not fighting anymore! I felt better and then they stopped fighting.



Barry told how he was very concerned about his mother being sick one day. Mommy looked real sick so I went up to my room, sat very still and closed my eyes. Then I pictured Mommy with a happy face and feeling good "all over". When I came downstairs, she looked much better.



Another child, Deana, "pictured" her messy bedroom "all cleaned up". After her picturing, she set to cleaning up her room.



Gary, fearful when he arrived home with Mom not there, chose to sit on the doorstep and "picture" his mother in his presence. When he opened his eyes, she had arrived home.



Susan was fearful at bedtime, so she "pictured" herself at the seashore walking with a friend. She became calm and soon fell asleep peacefully.



Freddie, a very affectionate little boy, suggested the whole class picture their mother's in a heart filled with love. I was excited with his idea, so I asked him to lead the imaging lesson. His delivery was spontaneous and inspiring.



Joey, was visibly upset due to the recent death of his grandfather. The entire class helped him picture his grandfather under a beautiful rainbow. After the picturing, Joey calmed down and seemed to radiate a sense of peace. His mother sent in a note thanking me for helping him to deal with the situation. She he was picturing at home and teaching her to picture also. Later that week, Joey came up to my desk, threw his arms around me in an affectionate embrace and said excitedly; "I'm not sad no more"!



Having noticed the rather dole expression on Mickey's face, I gently inquired into the nature of his problem. "What's wrong Mickey, you look so sad today. He blurted out his pain without restraint. "My Dad doesn't live with us anymore and I never get to see him. I miss him"! His emotions gave way to a flood of tears. As he rested his head on my shoulder and I held him closely, I became acutely aware of his tears pouring down my blue weather coat, it gave the appearance of a myriad of perfect shaped raindrops. My heart was filled with compassion as I realized the weight of his cross. Without delay, I gently moved him into the process of visualization. I reminded Mickey that now was the time to use his "inner eyes" as he pictured his father and himself, under a beautiful rainbow in Unicorn Land. Here in this enchanting place were sadness and sickness do not exist, he would meet his father and together they would absorb the healing rays of the rainbow.



See your father's happy, smiling face as he looks at you with the greatest love a father can have for his son. You are both standing hand in hand under the rainbow while all the warm, soft colors pour over your bodies, giving you a feeling that "all is well in your world".



As I concluded the imagery, Mickey was calmer and noticeably happier. I encouraged independent use of the imaging process whenever necessary. If feelings of loneliness overwhelm you again Mickey, just close your eyes, become very still, and see your father standing behind you with his hand on your shoulder. When you remember to do this, you will not feel separated from him. He will be as close to you as breathing, as near as hands and feet.



Mickey resumed his daily activities with confidence and ease. An expression of peace had settled on his face throughout the morning.



Later in the week, as the children were gathered around the rug singing "Jingle Bells" with great seasonal vigor, I glanced at Mickey who was quietly sitting in a meditative pose. His eyes were closed and he seemed totally unaware of the class activity. When w finished singing, I asked Mickey what he was doing during the song-fest. His response was tinged with emotion…"I was with my Dad"!



Jonathan was carried to the principal's office kicking and screaming. He had defied the teacher and expressed blatant hostility to the teacher and his classmates. Jonathan was suspended from the classroom until the problem of his inordinate, violent behavior was resolved to some degree of satisfaction. He was assigned a desk in the office hallway. Here he sat idle until his fate was decided.



As I passed by his desk one day, I felt an urge to reach out and help him. I had known Jonathan on a personal level, and was aware of the pent-up anger he so frequently expressed in the past. I believed he never "settled" the reality of his father's death within himself. I spoke to the principal about using visualization techniques to help promote healing in this situation. He happily agreed to accept my assistance.



Jonathan was so eager to get a temporary reprieve from his boring routine.



We spoke at great length about his father. Jonathan had a fascination for the Army. He wore clothes and played with toys that reflected this interest. His father was in the service and Jonathan strongly identified with this aspect of his father's character. I asked him to draw a picture of his father, including all the details of his physical appearance.



The drawing depicted Jonathan's father dressed in Army apparel with a United States Flag waving in the background. The picture helped enhance the inner image created during visualization. I suggested he visualize his father as he remembered him in full military dress with his hand on Jonathan's shoulder. I wanted him to become aware of his father's loving presents. "Whenever you feel angry and ready to explode, see your father standing near you". He loves you and wants what is best for you Jonathan.



He seemed to respond favorably to these suggestions and agreed to practice the anti-stress technique whenever he felt a victim of his emotions. Jonathan's teacher graciously consented to work with me in a joint effort to help Jonathan's work through his anger. He resumed his responsibilities in the classroom and seemed to demonstrate more contentment within himself.



The imaging techniques are not to be considered a "cure-all" in crisis situations. The process has the purpose of a temporary panacea…bringing the mind from a level of "distress" to a level of peace and balance in a relative short span of time.



In Jonathan's case, a family therapist was involved with the teacher and myself in helping Jonathan resolve periodic emotional conflicts.



Probably the most rewarding and inspiring testimony of "imaging in action", occurred in the life of Scott Morley, a child in my P.M. Kindergarten class. Scott was rushed to the hospital during the night because of an epileptic seizure. It was necessary that he remain in the hospital a couple of days for observation and treatment. Since Scott was not accustomed to being away from his parents overnight, especially in strange unfamiliar surroundings, this experience could have intensified his anxiety and further compounded his condition.



His response to this traumatic and threatening experience was nothing short of courageous and inspiring. His mother said she felt great anxiety leaving him alone in the hospital that first night. Before she left, she noticed he was unusually calm as he said, "Don't worry Mom, I'll be all-right"! When you leave, I'm going to "picture" all happy things in my mind so I won't be scared. She wondered where he learned this technique for acquiring peace and release form fear.



When he returned to school, I asked him to share his experience with the class. Proudly, he reported the details of that challenging moment. When scary thoughts came into my mind, I kicked them out and let in happy thoughts. I let in a kitten, a unicorn, my mom, flowers and a little puppy.



Scott was made the "hero" for the day in all our eyes! I for one would never forget this great demonstration of faith and staunch courage. I was further encourage the following year as I watched Scott, now a 1st grader teaching the imaging process to a crying child the first week of school.



My heart was filled to over-flowing with gratitude for having been the instrument through which God, in His infinite mercy, ordained the "Gift of Imaging" to be used as a means for healing all His children.

 

[The Story Teller]

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IMAGING: NATURE'S WINDOW
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The wonderful world of Nature can be greatly enhanced and more fully appreciated through the imaging process.



Having planned a class project of raking and jumping into the leaves as a culminating activity for Fall…the weather dictated a change in plans. The sky threatened showers any moment. My co-worker decided not to join us with her class due to the appearance of rain. I led the class in an imaging exercise that "pictured" us raking a mountainous pile of leaves, then jumping freely and happily into the leaves as we experienced the sounds, sights and smells of Fall.



Before we prepared to go out, we made a quiet wish that Mother Nature hold back the rain clouds. As we went out, a slight mist brushed our faces. When we got to our spot in the woods, the drizzle ceased and we raked and played in the leaves for forty-five minutes. After the children returned to the classroom, the "rains came". We all thanked Mother Nature!



As Winter approached, the poem "Snow" seemed appropriate for visual imagery. As I recited the poem, the children "pictured". A few children requested we make a wish to Mother Nature for a winter snowfall. The following day we all experienced the first snowfall of the season! Even the weatherman was surprised! We all thanked Mother Nature.



Perhaps the greatest test to the power of "positive imaging" came to me the day of our class trip. My co-worker and myself arranged a trip to Storybook Land with both Kindergarten classes. Two buses filled with one hundred children and twenty parents were due to depart 9:00 a.m. that morning.



The dark gray clouds smitten with intermittent rain threatened this planned activity. Some of the parents already apprehensive about the trip to this out-of-doors park expressed concern about exposing the children to the adverse elements. Despite the gloomy forecast and parental opposition, we decided to "go for it"!



The forty-five minute drive to Storybook Land seemed an eternity for me. As we rode through sporadic downpours, a storm of fear waged within me. My mind was engulfed with incessant pictures that depicted the buses having to turn around and return to school. The words, "You will have to make the decision to leave…when you arrive", pounded in my mind like waves beating up against a rock.



Fear was holding me captive to its threats (images). After sheer mental exhaustion, I retaliated with the "powerful tool of positive imaging". Suddenly in my imagination, I saw Jesus in a boat with His disciples. A storm arose, the disciples were frightened and feared for their lives. Jesus said to them, "why are ye fearful, o' ye of little faith"? Then He calmed the elements and the men as well. How easily I could relate to the disciples fearful attitude!



The entire drama of this familiar Bible story flashed vividly in my imagination. Its significance for me so crystallized in my consciousness. A resurgence of hope and unflinching "belief" had sprung up inside me. I held the biblical "picture" before me until we arrived. Then as if the sky opened up to release itself of a heavy burden, a great downpour of rain enveloped us. After it stopped, I talked to my co-worker about a final decision. We decided to wait ten minutes and see what happened. When I returned to the bus, asked the children to sing a familiar chant "rain, rain go away". After they finished, I asked them to close their eyes as they had done for our picturing and make a quite wish that the rain stop so we could enjoy our day at the park. Everyone, including the parents seemed to be unified in this simple request.



The rain had subsided to a slight drizzle and we decided to remain at the park. The day's activities at the fun-filled park lasted about three hours with NO RAIN or DRIZZLE! When it was time to depart, we boarded the buses, pulled out and the rain came! It rained most of the trip back to the school.



The inspiring sequence of events that characterized the day gave credence to the oft-quoted scripture…"As thou has believed, so it be done unto you". In conjunction with the imaging process, the quote might also read…"As thou hast imaged, so it be done unto you". Could I ever seriously doubt the scope and magnitude of God's love after today? The Father may have one eye on the sparrow, but, He had the other eye on us that day!

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IMAGING: NOT MAGIC
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Speculation may arise as to how the "imaging process" seems to effect change in the individual's external and internal world. No mental magic is implied or conveyed to the children in this process, rather a "shift in perception" is the fruitful result of utilizing this great gift. As the children use their imagination to image positive, uplifting pictures…the law of "like begets like" becomes a reality in their experience. The following quote has had a powerful significance in my life. "Whatever the mind can conceive (image) it can achieve (experience) if it believes! For children the art of "believing" is natural and spontaneous. Since their minds are usually free form long-standing beliefs and judgments, the "creative flow" is not hindered, but finds an avenue for expression through their imagination.



Imaging affords the child an opportunity to express the imaginative and visual gifts latent in the right hemisphere of the brain.



Education has grossly neglected cultivating the imaginative and intuitive powers governed by the right hemisphere. Herein lies the true creative potential of the individual. In educating the child, the main emphasis has been developing the competitive and analytical thinking process involved in the left hemisphere of the brain.



As teachers, our highest objective will always be to "awaken" in greater capacity, the thinking processes lying dormant within a child's mind. Dulled by lack of constructive use and mesmerized by external stimuli, the brain remains a sleeping giant. We awaken this giant from his slumber when we incorporate activities that stimulate the growth and development of both the left and right hemispheres of the brain.



Just as one finger is no more important than the other ten, nor one leg more useful than the other, so it is with our brain; both right and left hemispheres serve an equally significant role in the process of creative thinking.



It may be helpful to provide greater clarification of the differences between these two sides of the brain. The left side is characterized by these skills. Memorization, word and number recognition, computative, intellectual, reasoning, analytical thinking. Scientist and mathematicians focus attention on these skills. The right side is characterized by these skills. Intuition, visualization, imagination, creativity. Artist, writers, poets and musicians focus attention on these skills. Through most of my teaching years any activities focusing on the right side of the brain were for artistic purposes solely. Planned creative activities were sporadic and seemingly unproductive. I was totally ignorant of the innate power latent in the right hemisphere of the brain.



Through the process of "imaging", greater awareness of this latent power was thrust to my attention. I could not deny or doubt the effectiveness of this constructive tool in opening the windows of the mind to reveal one's highest creative potential.



It is imperative that we, as educators, re-emphasize educating the "whole child". Through the combined activity of the right and left hemispheres, the mind experiences a delicate balance of both worlds. Here the individual can function on a level that surpasses mediocrity! Here the beauty and truth of our "being" shines through the illusions of fear and self-doubt. Here we make contact with a power that enables us to rise above the "sense" of human limitations and self-defeat to a higher level of healing and "wholeness".

 

[The Story Teller]

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IMAGING: BEYOND THE CLASSROOM
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Imaging has become a vital and necessary part of my life. Apart from the classroom, this practical healing tool has permeated the confines of my home and influenced the lives of those in my midst.



The following experiences give credibility to the healing power of imaging.



I awoke one Saturday morning feeling physically weak and emotionally drained. Strong feelings of self-defeat and failure engulfed me. Whenever I became morbidly preoccupied with "myself" and all my shortcomings, I felt an oppressive burden weigh my whole being. I knew the way out of this dilemma. The answer came through in a still small voice from within that gently urged…image, image! As I relaxed and allowed the process to have free flow in my consciousness, I was Jesus step down into our library. He wore a long, flowing white robe. Gracefully, He walk over to one of the shelves on the bookcase. He pulled a white book off the shelf and placed it on the table. The title was very familiar to me…"Not I, but Christ". Immediately I went into the library to find the book. There it was on the exact shelf I saw it on during the imaging process.



As I leafed through the book, my eyes riveted on one page. While reading the words, I felt a release from the burden of guilt and worthlessness that had preoccupied my mind and sapped my energy.



In that precious moment, I was healed. Jesus's words, "Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free", described how I felt in the midst of this healing miracle.



Having complained all morning about the discomfort experienced from a persistent headache, my husband Gerard asked for my assistance. I felt greatly impressed to emphasize the curative powers of imagery in this situation. I suggested he visualize Jesus and himself standing near the stream in the back of his parents cabin. This was a familiar and peaceful place in his memory. I proceeded with the imagery. Picture Jesus bending over the water, cupping His hand in the water then pouring the water from His hand onto your forehead. Later on in the evening, I inquired about his condition. With satisfaction and relief, Gerard reported that his headache had vanished after he completed the imaging.



Quite by surprise, my dear friend Nancy came to visit me. She was visibly distraught and feeling the effects of disease in her mind and body. She was consumed with worry about a situation she had no control over. As I led her into the imaging process, she saw herself standing before a pool of still water with her friend, Jesus. Her reflection and His could be seen in the calm water. There she made the critical decision to lay her burden down at His feet…leave it there and walk away; lighter, and free in mind, body and spirit. After we finished the imagery, Nancy tearfully embraced me and said she experienced a renewed sense of well-being. She called the next week to inform me of her visit to the doctors. After examining her, he inquired how her blood pressure and sugar count had resumed a normal profile. Her answer reflected the depth of her faith. "God did it"!, she responded with childlike confidence.



My sister-in-law, Kathy, was experiencing consistent feelings of self-defeat and worthlessness. These feelings compounded her "sense of separation" from God and His loving presence in her life. Due to futile attempts to kick the smoking habit, she became increasingly discouraged and guilt ridden over her apparent failure to overcome this habit. I explained the process of imaging, my personal experiences, and the healing effects of both mind, body and spirit that were wrought through this life-giving process. That night in the privacy of her bedroom, she relaxed and allowed the process to flow spontaneously in her mind's eye, she saw herself laboriously climbing up a large cliff. She struggled every step of the way as the weight of her burdensome body seemed to pull her backwards. She persisted and moved forward in spite of her body. When she finally got to the top of the cliff, she threw the weight in the form of a rock over the cliff and watched it smash into a thousand pieces. She ran down the hill, feeling light and free. Kathy strongly believes the rock was her guilt and through the imagery she released herself from the bondage of guilt. She felt renewed and strengthened within herself. When in the future she was beset by even greater challenges, she employed the use of imagery with confidence.



A friend of my husband's was experience financial difficulties. Things seemed to go from bad to worse with no relief in sight. Feeling the burden of this, I sought an answer for him through the imaging process. In the imagery exercise, I saw Jesus step through the threshold of our friends private office, walk over to his desk and write the words "seek Me" on a white pad. Knowing this person was a believer, I felt no hesitation telling him about the imagery. He seemed to derive comfort and peace form this visual response to his immediate need.



A week prior to being hospitalized, I was experiencing back and leg discomfort. While I was lying on my bed, I felt the urge to image. I saw people dress in white robes around my bed. I could feel vibrations of love and peace being sent to me through their presents. When my husband walked into the bedroom, he inquired about my state of health. Having awakened form the imagery, I told him I hadn't felt well all morning. "Don't worry", he said with firm resolve. "Don't you know there's a host of angles surrounding your bed"? His answer startled me and amazed me. I felt immediate peace as well as a renewed sense of well-being…Knowing whatever happened, I was in the loving care of "ministering spirits". This blessed assurance assisted me in the days to come when a greater health challenge would test my strength and endurance.



For these and countless other experiences, I am externally grateful to the Father. In His infinite wisdom, He knew imaging could not be confined to the classroom any more than light can be confined to a prism. The far-reaching effects of this great gift are as infinite as the Creator and as timeless as eternity. James 1:17, I am reminded of God's abundant love for His children:



…"every good gift and every perfect gift is from above and cometh down from the Father of Lights".

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IMAGING: A GREAT MOMENT
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Anxious to learn more about the process of visualization and its effectiveness in healing mind, body and spirit; my husband and I decided to attend a two-day workshop called Attitudinal Healing. Having read the books…"Love is Letting go of Fear", "Teach only Love", and the "Course in Miracles Text", we were acquainted with the philosophy and techniques used in the workshop to enhance healing of the "whole person". Many of the people attending the workshop expressed a willingness to let go of deep hurts, resentments and feelings of low, self-esteem.



A common goal among the group of twenty people was to experience forgiveness within themselves and in all their relationships. Removing the obstacles that blocked the continuous flow of love in our lives was a challenge to most of us.

During the frequent sharing periods, people contributed their personal insights received during visualizations, paired exercises and meditation. Most of us seemed to be experiencing some sense of renewal and peace of mind through the varied activities. In the hours we shared together, a deep sense of commitment to one another developed among the group. We felt a love connection. One woman in the group would have the greatest impact on our lives. Her name was Mildred! When Mildred told the group that her daughter "Bobbie" had committed suicide January of that year, her visible touched us as we witnessed her break down in sobs of pain and torment.



Within my being, I felt her pain intensely and part of me cried out to God immediately for an answer that would ease the inner conflict and bring peace into the mind of this tortured but gentle soul. Whenever it was Mildred's turn to share with the group, an attitude of foreboding hopelessness was communicated to all of us. She seemed to be suspended in a state of limbo with no relief in sight. Her sense of isolation was greatly increased due to the fact that her husband's death shortly preceding Bobbie's tragic death. Mildred felt like an orphan wandering in the wilderness, abandoned and forsaken by those she loved.



About half way through the workshop, Mildred expressed her intense inner pain and total confusion regarding the tragic circumstances in her life and in her daughter's:



Where was this God of love and peace when my daughter, Bobbie took her life? She was a beautiful, loving child deserving of life as much as the rest of us. Answer me that"!

 

[The Story Teller]

Her response struck our hearts with a heavy blow. No one dared presume they had an answer to this agonizing question. It was this same question that haunted me after Melanie's accident. I searched earnestly for an answer then, and I would search for divine illumination in this most painful situation.



On the first day of the workshop, the instructor led us into imagery using the appealing suggestion that we go into our inner sanctuary and meet with a great Being we could identify with. As I relaxed, let go, and flowed with the process, these images appeared in my mind. I saw Jesus in a beautiful garden. He wearing a long white robe and He was seated on a bench with a child near His feet. I saw myself walk over to Him, kneel down and then gaze into the familiar face of Melanie Andrews! Her smile was enchanting and I felt a deep loving bond between us. I heard Jesus say quite audibly…"Take her message to the world as Mine was also given to the world. Let the world see we did not die in vain".

I shared this beautiful imagery with the group. My sense of elation at seeing Melanie was almost more than I could contain! The same close connection I felt in the classroom the day after her death was again intensified in me today!

Jesus's words aroused my faith as I realized He was gently, but skillfully, revealing the underlying purpose behind the "Shadows of Death". Melanie's loving presence overwhelmed me with feelings of anticipation for "things yet to come".

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IMAGING: A MIRACLE
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The workshop activities continued to bring all of us into closer and more intimate contact with one another. During one of the paired exercises, Mildred made a private request. She as me to search for an answer regarding her daughter's death. I told Mildred that I already implored God for an answer. Before this workshop is over…something will come through, I heard myself say with quiet confidence.

The last day of the workshop, the instructor led us into one of the many healing visualizations. Only this time something else would dominate the exercise. When the process began, I could feel myself resist the instructor's audible suggestions. As I willingly yielded my consciousness over to the presence and power of Spirit, I saw this vision clearly.



I stepped out of an elevator into a bright shaft of light. I could see myself running through the light in slow-motion. In the distance, I could see a white robed figure with long hair…I knew immediately it was Jesus! I saw a child clutching His hand. She was wearing a white covering over her head and what appeared to be a bridal gown. As she got closer, I recognized her enchanting face. Once again, it was the sweet, angelic face of Melanie Andrews! Though my heart stirred with intense emotion at seeing this image, my concentration never left the imagery. Melanie's hand was connected to someone who's form I couldn't identify. From somewhere in the background the words, Bobbie, Bobbie were clearly announced. Instantly, I realized this was Mildred's daughter. I could sense a close bond of love and friendship had developed between Melanie and Bobbie. As the imagery progressed, I saw the four of us form a circle.



With hands clasped together, we danced and whirled gaily around in what appeared to be a beautiful garden. After this light and free activity, we all walk over to a pool of water, knelt down, and gazed at our reflections in the still water. Melanie picked up a pebble and threw it into the pool. We all watched as the ripples multiplied out further and further until they dissipated into nothingness. As I was getting ready to leave this beautiful place of light and love, Bobbie walked over to me and whispered into my ear. "When you return, tell Mother I love her".

After I regained conscious activity, I felt anxious to reveal the vision, but part of me was reluctant to share too soon. I knew the Spirit would give me the right words at the right time. I wanted His will to prevail in this situation.



That afternoon, the instructor led us in what was to be our last visualization. I again experienced the presence of Spirit dominant the activity. My only part in the entire process was that of a "beholder". It was through this final imagery exercise that a way would open to release Mildred of her guilt and consistent sense of extreme hopelessness.



The images came forth in brilliant clarity! I saw Bobbie stretch forth her arms across a barrier of white clouds. She appeared to be held back in her own dimension but was striving to communicate her desires to her mother. The words, "release me mother, forgive me mother, I am happy in the light", cut through the clouded atmosphere. The words "let go of your grief, let go of your sorrow for what might have been", resonated in my consciousness. The final words communicated were,"look for the good mother…look for the good"!

Before regaining conscious activity, I saw Bobbie and her mother walking hand-in-hand along the beach. Feelings of peace and total forgiveness were transmitted through this final scene. A sense of "it is done" was conveyed to me.



When we shared in the group for the last time, Mildred expressed her disappointment at having experiencing very little inner peace from the healing workshop. Since I was the last one in the group to share, I was growing increasingly anxious as it got closer to my turn. The anticipation of sharing this beautiful and enlightening experience left me feeling excited but also scared. I was afraid Mildred would respond to the visualizations I received with a negative or unbelieving attitude. Fearful images came into my mind repeatedly that cast doubt on the authenticity of God's vision. Through all of this inner turmoil, the prophetic words of Isaiah poured forth to allay my fears and arouse my courage. God's word shall not return unto me VOID but it shall ACCOMPLISH that which I please and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.



While I shared the content of both visualizations, me eyes rarely left Mildred's face. When I concluded, she broke down into sobs of joy and relief. My instinct to comfort Mildred brought me instantly out of my seat and into the center of the circle where we both met, embraced, and together spilled our tears of gratitude.

While we bathed in the beauty of this inspiring moment, the rest of the group came forth and lovingly enfolded their arms around us. The power of love's presence filled the room and radiated on the faces of those in our midst. We experienced a quality of love that transcended time and space; pain and sorrow; a love that binds up our wounds and delivers us form the pit of despair; a love that is constant and faithful. A testimony to this great demonstration of love can be found in Psalm 30. For my dear friend, Mildred, the words of David will ring true in her own experience:



…"O Lord, my God, I cried unto Thee, And Thou hast healed me.

O Lord, Thou hast brought up my soul from the grave:

Thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.

Tho weeping may endure for a night, but Joy cometh in the

morning".



Several months later, in an impromtu telephone call, Mildred expressed her heartfelt gratitude:



"In that moment, I experienced the first breath of peace. I had felt there was noting left for me but anguish. It was a hope to cling to. The message from Bobbie was pure love. I have moments of grief, but I remember what Bobbie said…and I know she would not want me to torment myself. Now, I can go on with my life"!



The outpouring of love and gratitude expressed through Mildred filled my cup to overflowing as I heard the words of Malachi ring true in my experience; "Prove me now saith the Lord of Host.

 

[The Story Teller]

THE
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IMAGING
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*Sharon Caprio*

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To Mildred…

Thank you for allowing the splendor to come forth!

 

[The Story Teller]

For years I’d hidden from my past. Now I had to face it

A Wish for the New Year

by Lois Lonnquist
Helena, Montana

Sitting in church, I stared at the words I had scribbled on a scrap of paper: “I want to find my brothers and sisters.” It was the first Sunday in January, and our pastor had challenged us to trust God for something big in the new year. “Ask God for what seems impossible,” he had said. “Write down your heart’s most secret wish.” This was the biggest, deepest wish I knew.



In the pew were my two children and my husband, Don. We had joined this enormous church in Oklahoma City in part because of my desire to get lost in a crowd. I ducked in and out like a shadow, avoiding close relationships and the inevitable questions about my past. Even though I was happily married, I ached from a childhood I had left nearly 2000 miles away in Maine more than 25 years ago.



I was five years old the first time my mother left me in charge of my brothers and sisters. “My babies,” I called them, acting like their mother. Brian was seven. Karen was three, Robbie was one and little Kelly-Jo, a newborn. Daddy was away in Vietnam. Mama said she was just going to the store for bread and milk.



At first it was fun, just like playing house. But by nighttime the babies were crying and everyone was hungry. I had made a mess in the kitchen trying to fix supper. The second day Mama was gone I washed diapers in the bathtub. The smell was awful. When Mama finally came home, she went to sleep. She didn’t bring any bread or milk. As I later came to understand, she was an alcoholic.



One night when I was six, I was awakened by screeching tires, screaming sirens and red flashing lights outside our house. Brian had crawled out a window and had been hit by a truck. I peeked through the curtain as he was lifted into the ambulance. Mama wasn’t home so I rounded up the others and we hid in a closet until the policemen found us.



“I’m going to get a court order and take these kids out of here,” I overheard one of them say.



We were instructed to stay put until they came back for us, but as soon as they left, I gathered up Karen and the babies and we walked in the dark until we found our great-uncle’s house. He fetched Mama at a bar.



“This is all your fault!” Mama screamed at me. “You were supposed to take care of them. You are a bad little girl.” The court order never came and Brian recovered. From then on Mama parked outside the bar and locked us in the car. Night after night Kelly-Jo cried because she was hungry and wet. Robbie bounced from the front seat to the back. Karen sucked her thumb. Brian cursed.



Daddy finally came home from Vietnam. Pretty soon, though, he and Mama were both drinking and fighting. One night I woke up when Daddy kissed me on my forehead. “Where are you going?” I whispered.



“To the store,” he replied. He never came back.



Mama got worse after Daddy left. We moved from place to place, finally ending up in a small Maine town where Mama’s parents lived. But they couldn’t care for us, and Mama finally gave up. I was seven years old when we became wards of the state.



Brian was placed in foster care. Robbie and Kelly-Jo were adopted by a family. Karen and I went to Bangor Children’s Home.



The orphanage was a forbidding Victorian building on a hill. Karen and I were assigned to a huge room on the third floor with rows of beds and a box at each for the red oxfords and uniforms we wore. I spent hours looking out the window, praying for a car to come up the long driveway and take me away. In the yard I would ride the swing as high as I could in hopes that I could fly over the fence and escape.



On Christmas, 1967, the tag on my gift read “For Boy or Girl.” Trembling, I opened the box. Inside was a Pinocchio hand puppet, my very own toy. I was told that if I was a good girl, I could play with Pinocchio for 30 minutes each day. For that half hour I came alive.



When I was nine years old Karen and I were placed with a foster family. I ran to pack Pinocchio.



“You can’t take that,” the floor mother said. “The toy belongs to the Home.”



“He’s mine!”



She grabbed him. “The toy stays here.”



“Nokie, Nokie!” I cried, calling out his nickname.



It seemed that everything I had ever loved was taken from me. Try as I might, I couldn’t get over the scars of the past. As a teenager, I ran away from my foster family, leaving Karen behind. By sheer will I made a life for myself far away from Maine, but I could never trust anyone. My deepest relationships felt fragile.



“I think you should go back,” my husband quietly urged when I told him about the New Year’s resolution I’d written down in church that Sunday. “Visit the Children’s Home. Try to see your brothers and sisters. Face your past.”



I shuddered. I was afraid of being hurt, of being rejected once again. “What if they don’t want to see me?” I asked. “What if I only remind them of painful memories?”



“Think about how the pastor put it in his sermon. You have to trust God with the future. If this is what you really want, God will help you.”



I nodded. For years I had carried around an old newspaper clipping sent by a good friend back in Maine. It was an engagement announcement showing an attractive woman named Kelly-Jo. I took it out and studied it. Okay, Lord, you’re going to have to help me with this first step.



I got her number from directory assistance. Kelly-Jo’s adopted father answered and he knew who I was immediately. “I remember you, Lynn Ann,” he said. “You’re the one who has big brown eyes. It just about killed us that we couldn’t adopt all you kids.”



He told me Kelly-Jo was away on vacation, but he promised to give her my number.



A few hours later the phone rang. My son, Paul, announced from the hall, “There’s a guy on the phone named Robbie. He says he’s your brother!”



“Robbie?” I said in disbelief.



“Lynn Ann,” he answered back with a real Yankee drawl. “I never forgot your name.” He remembers me! He and Kelly-Jo had been adopted by the same family. Both were now married and lived in Maine.



“I’d like to come to Maine in a few weeks,” I said. “Could you meet me?”



“Nothing could keep me away,” he said. I had found my two missing siblings; now I had to find a way to get us all back together. I had kept up with Brian and Karen. They lived just a few hours from Robbie and Kelly-Jo but they hadn’t ever gotten together. They’re as scared as I am, I thought.



Before leaving Oklahoma I framed four prints of the only surviving photo of the five of us as youngsters. My gift for my siblings.



After my plane landed in Bangor, I traveled to a friend’s bed and breakfast to meet Robbie and Kelly-Jo. My babies, I thought when they came down the stairs. For they had been babies when I’d seen them last, Kelly-Jo still in diapers. I gazed at her now and a shadow of my own face stared back. Robbie towered over me, tears brimming in his eyes. I held them both, just held them.



We talked into the night and the next day. I found the similarities between Kelly-Jo and me startling. We could have been twins as high school cheerleaders. Looking at photos together, I noticed that we even had chosen the same wedding dress! I stayed at her house and before I fell asleep I saw that she slept with one leg outside the covers, just as I do.



I met with Brian and gave him the picture of us. “What cute kids we were,” he said.



I visited Karen at her house and was amazed. It was like walking into my own home. Her furniture was similar to mine, and her decorating colors were the same: blue, mauve and forest green. Over her bed she had a collection of teddy bears. “Just like mine!” I exclaimed.



The hardest place to visit was Bangor Children’s Home. I walked up those steep porch steps with dread. It was now a day-care center. In the office where I had trembled as a seven-year-old, I met Dierdra, an employee who offered to give me a tour.



She took me through the huge dining room and up the wide stairs I’d had to clean and scrub with a toothbrush every Saturday morning. I located my former bedroom, where I had gazed longingly out the window for a rescuer.



I found the room where the housemother had disciplined me. Back then I had forced myself to block out all feeling when I was scolded. But now tears that had been stanched for years flowed.



As I described the painful memories, Dierdra looked as if she had seen a ghost. “Just a minute,” she said and bustled out of the room. She came back from the attic carrying a small hand puppet. She even had the tag that read: “For Boy or Girl.”



I put my hand inside Pinocchio and held him close. I finally realized what an amazing thing had happened. I had been afraid to face the past, but when I finally did, I had been rewarded beyond measure.



Four months later Brian, Karen, Robbie, Kelly-Jo and I met again for a real reunion. For 10 days we were together, waterskiing, swimming and picnicking. In a world filled with chaos and turmoil I had found a place where the sounds of family suddenly brought purpose to my heart. God had erased my fears and had helped make my secret wish come true.



The above article originally appeared in the January 1995 issue of Guideposts.



Submitted by Richard

 

[The Story Teller]

** Christmas Greetings! **

I don’t like to brag BUT…. (Joke)



It is that time of year again to share with you our adventures in this journey we call life. 2001 has been another year of magic and wonder. . .



Susan almost 19, is quite a talker. She continues to amaze the professors at the University with her intuition in foreign languages. It was fun for her to serve as Official Translator for Warren Carintopher at the Bosnian-Serbian Peace Talks. She intends to spend this Holiday transcribing War and Peace into Arabic and Cantonese.



Carin, now 15, is growing leaps and bounds. When she got her first set of building blocks she seemed quite interested in large buildings. This year she designed her first skyscraper and ground was broken in Hong Kong for the new "Little Woman" Towers. It is great to have a budding architect at home as she made a new addition to the house and a wonderful gazebo for our garden. Martha Stewart will be filming her next show here in April.



Bobbie had a very busy year. In between her work as President of the American Cancer Society and Senior Partner of Goldman Sachs, she introduced a line of children's novels and hand made active-wear. She remains occupied with the children and has introduced them to Yoga and power walking this year. We are particularly proud of Mom as a

starting forward representing the United States in the World Cup.



Richard was immersed with his Graduate School studies, and managed to co-author a paper on Multidimensional Customer Attribute Analysis by Conjoint Survey and accept a Nobel Prize for his discoveries in Quantum Physics. Along the way Richard took three startups through their IPO. We are proud of his work serving on the Board of Directors of

IBM, Coca-Cola, and Walt Disney. Dad was also active with the kids teaching Carin Ballet and helping to lower Carin' handicap to 5.



We were able to squeeze a little traveling in this year. We started in Aspen, went to Belarus, the Congo, Denmark, Ethiopia, the Falklands, Greenland,, Holland, Italy, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, New Zealand, Venezuela, and Zaire. Our trip sailing our new boat around the world was a great experience for the kids, we learned to communicate with Dolphins and discovered a new region of deep water volcanoes.



And Brownie, our German shepherd, learned to speak. Latin. Other than that, it was a very quiet year. So from our household to yours, all the Blessings of the Season and may your New Year be prosperous. We found out yesterday that we won the $150 Million Powerball Lottery.



- Bobbie, Richard, Carin & Susan



Submitted by Richard