-
Her eyes met mine as she walked down the corridor peering apprehensively into the kennels.
I felt her need instantly and knew I had to help her.
I wagged my tail, not too exuberantly, so she wouldn’t be afraid.
-
As she stopped at my kennel I blocked her view from a little accident I had in the back of my cage.
I didn’t want her to know that I hadn’t been walked today.
Sometimes the shelter keepers get too busy and I didn’t want her to think poorly of them.
-
As she read my kennel card I hoped that she wouldn’t feel sad about my past. I only have the future to look forward to and want to make a difference in someone’s life.
-
She got down on her knees and made little kissy sounds at me. I shoved my shoulder and side of my head up against the bars to comfort her.
Gentle fingertips caressed my neck; she was desperate for companionship.
-
A tear fell down her cheek and I raised my paw to assure her that all would be well.
-
-
Soon my kennel door opened and her smile was so bright that I instantly jumped into her arms.
I would promise to keep her safe. I would promise to always be by her side.
I would promise to do everything I could to see that radiant smile and sparkle in her eyes.
I was so fortunate that she came down my corridor.
So many more are out there who haven’t walked the corridors.
So many more to be saved. At least I could save one.
–
I rescued a human today. -
– -
Friday, April 22, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
the meanest mother in the world...(not written by me)
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids' also.
But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we'd be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less--not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy's pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?
The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did.
By the time we were teen-agers, she was much wiser, and our life became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I'd had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.
Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We could not lie in bed, "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends' report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks.
As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a drop-out.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You're right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one other things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults.
Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean. Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.
But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we'd be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less--not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy's pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?
The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did.
By the time we were teen-agers, she was much wiser, and our life became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I'd had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.
Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We could not lie in bed, "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends' report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks.
As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a drop-out.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You're right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one other things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults.
Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean. Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.
Monday, March 14, 2011
ONE
One
One tree can start a forest,
One bird can herald spring,
One smile can begin ...a friendship,
One hand can lift a soul,
One star can guide a ship at sea,
One word can frame the goal,
One vote can change a nation,
One sunbeam can light a room,
One candle can wipe out darkness,
One laugh can conquer gloom,
One hope can raise our spirits,
One touch can show you care,
One voice can wake up everybody,
One life can make the difference,
be that one today.
One tree can start a forest,
One bird can herald spring,
One smile can begin ...a friendship,
One hand can lift a soul,
One star can guide a ship at sea,
One word can frame the goal,
One vote can change a nation,
One sunbeam can light a room,
One candle can wipe out darkness,
One laugh can conquer gloom,
One hope can raise our spirits,
One touch can show you care,
One voice can wake up everybody,
One life can make the difference,
be that one today.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
TO FORGIVE..(not written by me)
To forgive
Is really to remember
That nobody is perfect
That each of us stumbles
When we want so much to stay upright
That each of us says things
We wish we had never said
That we can all forget that love
Is more important than being right.
To forgive
Is really to remember
That we are so much more
Than our mistakes
That we are often more kind and caring
That accepting another’s flaws
Can help us accept our own.
To forgive
Is to remember
That the odds are pretty good that
We might soon need to be forgiven ourselves.
That life sometimes gives us more
Than we can handle gracefully.
To forgive
Is to remember
That we have room in our hearts to
Begin again ……And again
Is really to remember
That nobody is perfect
That each of us stumbles
When we want so much to stay upright
That each of us says things
We wish we had never said
That we can all forget that love
Is more important than being right.
To forgive
Is really to remember
That we are so much more
Than our mistakes
That we are often more kind and caring
That accepting another’s flaws
Can help us accept our own.
To forgive
Is to remember
That the odds are pretty good that
We might soon need to be forgiven ourselves.
That life sometimes gives us more
Than we can handle gracefully.
To forgive
Is to remember
That we have room in our hearts to
Begin again ……And again
Thursday, November 18, 2010
WOMAN
She can deal with stress and carry heavy burdens. She smiles when she feels like screaming & she sings when she feels like crying. She cries when she's happy & laughs when she's afraid. Her love is unconditional. There's only one thing wrong with her. She forgets what she's worth
PET PRAYER
What would I do without you,My precious,furry friend?...Part mischief,but all blessing,and faithful to the end! I think God knew how comforting your warm,soft fur would be.I know you think you're human,but i'm glad it isn't true...the world would be so much nicer if folks were more like you! A few short years are all we have; One day we'll have to part...but you,my pet,will always have a place within my heart♥
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Theres a new world..(written by Brenda Moultrie) 5/04
This is a song I made up while holding my 4 month old grandson Dallas on my chest ..we would do this for hours at a time..we would fall asleep for hours ..I still sing to him and he is 6 years and 10 months old...
__________________________________________________________________________________
There's a new world somewhere, they call the 7th sun
and if you ever go there, tell them you're the one..
You're the one that makes me happy, you're the one that brings me joy.
then you tell them that you are my baby boy...
My baby boy, My baby boy
then you tell them that you are my baby boy..then you tell them that you are , you are my shining star .then you tell them that you are my baby boy..
___________________________________________________________________________________
my grandaughter Dellaney (Dallas's 5 year old sister) would want me to re-dol the song and put in girl and boy ...I do when I'm singing it to both of them....
__________________________________________________________________________________
There's a new world somewhere, they call the 7th sun
and if you ever go there, tell them you're the one..
You're the one that makes me happy, you're the one that brings me joy.
then you tell them that you are my baby boy...
My baby boy, My baby boy
then you tell them that you are my baby boy..then you tell them that you are , you are my shining star .then you tell them that you are my baby boy..
___________________________________________________________________________________
my grandaughter Dellaney (Dallas's 5 year old sister) would want me to re-dol the song and put in girl and boy ...I do when I'm singing it to both of them....
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