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SWEET SARAH
by Azriela |
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When I married my husband, Stephen, I was age 34 and
my biological clock had been ticking loudly for a few years.
I was never one of those women who wanted to be
pregnant at age 40. So, even though he was already "Dad"
to two teenage boys, he married me knowing that God
willing, he would be a father again.
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We hoped for a nice sentimental story, pregnant on the
honeymoon, and our first child within a year. We were
living with Stephen's boys at the time anyway, so it
wasn't like a child of our own would wreck the romantic
atmosphere of our peaceful home. We had two rowdy
teenage boys banging around the house and keeping us
from any meaningful privacy.
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God delivered. I was pregnant before we returned from
the honeymoon, according to the home pregnancy test I
took a couple of weeks later. We were elated. It felt like an
affirmation of our love for one another, the rightness of
our union, and a dream come true.
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I was sick as a dog for the first two months of the
pregnancy, throwing up every day, often several times a
day, and losing almost ten pounds. Stephen marveled at
my ability to wake up, throw up, and then get on with my
day, as if it was no big deal. It wasn't fun, but I was so
grateful to be pregnant, I took it in stride.
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One evening, about ten weeks into the pregnancy, I lay in
bed feeling particularly miserable. My stomach hurt worse
than usual, more like menstrual cramping than nausea. I
rose to go to the bathroom and was horrified to discover, I
was bleeding. We contacted our midwife and she gave me
instructions. It wasn't long before the truth was revealed. I
had miscarried.
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Any woman who has ever experienced this fate, and so
many of us have, knows the grief that passes over you at
this moment. I was losing not only a life growing inside of
me, but also a dream. I was terrified. Did this mean that I
would have difficulty conceiving, or carrying a baby to
term? I mourned for the little girl, or boy, whom we had
lost.
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Sarah Jaffe, sweet Sarah, our oldest daughter, age six, was
conceived a couple of months later. If I had known at the
time that God had such an incredible gift in store for us, I
would have accepted the miscarriage with greater ease
when it happened.
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Every mother loves her daughter. Every mother will tell
you that her daughter is one of the finest human beings
ever to be born.
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But really, Sarah is.
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The daycare staff labeled her "easy money" because she
was always such a joy to be around. She wakes up happy,
she giggles throughout the day, and she spends many of
her waking moments trying to figure out how to be kind
to others. She is so stunningly beautiful that complete
strangers walk up to me in a store and tell me that I better
watch out when she becomes a teenager. She is the child
who will give up her favorite "blanky" to keep someone
warm and will come up to her tired Mama and say,
"Mama, you work too hard. Is there anything I can do for
you today?"
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One of my favorite memories of Sarah goes back to my
second pregnancy with her sister, Elana, when then too, I
was so ill, I was parked on the couch, waiting for waves of
nausea to dissipate. Sarah was concerned and so she lay
down next to me and extended her sucking thumb, saying,
"Suck this, Mama, it always makes me feel better, and it
will make you feel better too!"
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Sarah announces every single day to me, "Mama, I love
you bigger than God." I never get tired of hearing it. I
could not possibly feel more love for a human being than
I feel for my daughter, Sarah.
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I never forget that Sarah was born only because I
miscarried. In God's great plan, not mine, the baby before
Sarah was not meant to be in our family. Sarah definitely
was. Sarah reminds me every day that God's plan is
usually better than my own. When life isn't going the way
I had planned, I think of my sweet Sarah, and I await the
blessings that God has in store for me instead.
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Azriela Jaffe, copyright 2000
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Azriela didn't have to worry about her biological clock
expiring after all. She gave birth to three babies in four
years, Sarah, Elana, and Elijah, and she and her husband
are now the proud and tired Mama and Papa to three
beautiful children.
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Azriela Jaffe is the founder of "Anchored Dreams"
(http://www.isquare.com/crlink.htm), and author of
eight books including "Create Your Own Luck, Eight
Principles to Attracting Good Fortune In to Your Life,
Love, and Work" (Adams Media 2000) "Starting from No,
Ten Strategies to Overcome Your Fear of Rejection and
Succeed in Business" (Dearborn 1999). For free online
newsletter for entrepreneurial couples/families, and
creating luck, or for information about her syndicated
column, "Advice from A-Z", email
azriela@mindspring.com.
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JUST ONE MORE HUG
by Sharon |
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I am the food person that feeds all the kids at the camps
for the YMCA. Recently as the vans were bringing in the
kids from school, I heard a crash and a hand painted
flowerpot was lying on the cement floor of the pavilion
where I take care of the kids. Since I have ninety-five
children I wasn't sure who the little flowerpot belonged
to, but I saw the little boy who accidentally knocked it off
the table.
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I thought the pot belonged to another little boy age five, so
I walked up to him and told him if we could find some
glue, I could fix the pot for him. It turned out I was talking
to the wrong boy.
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Unknown to me, the boy who did make the pot, heard
what I said and went and got a counselor and told her that
if "Miss Sharon" had some glue, then his pot could be
fixed.
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Just as I was cleaning up my work area, young Tyler
approached me. " Miss Sharon, are you in a hurry?"
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I just knew it was his pot. I said, "Tyler, was it your
flowerpot that broke?"
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"Yes ma'am" he replied.
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With tears in his eyes, he said, "I made it all by myself and
it was for my mom for Sunday, and now it's all broke and
I don't think even you can fix it, Miss Sharon."
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I bent down and took his chin in my hand, and I said,
"You wanna bet?" I told him when we got done, it was
going to be as beautiful as it was when he walked in the
pavilion with it.
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I had another job to rush to, but I knew this little boy's
present for his mom was something I just had to help
him with.
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Another counselor had rushed out for glue and I began
the restoration. I put that little hand painted flowerpot
back together. Of course there were some blemishes, with
chips missing here and there but I knew Tyler's mom
would love the little pot (just because he had made it for
her)
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I told Tyler that his mom would be happy because when a
little boy gives his mom something he made for Mother's
Day, it's perfect, no matter WHAT shape it's in. He looked
at me and grinned, and said, "Oh thank you Miss Sharon.
But I'm gonna tell my mom the pot got broke" Then
suddenly he looked up at me and said, "Can I give you a
hug?"
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I said "You sure can."
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I bent down to get my hug and give him one back. He said,
"Miss Sharon, do you have any children?"
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During all this another new little boy was standing
watching. I said, "Yes, I have children, but they're all
grown up now."
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And he said, "I bet you got a son, huh?"
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I looked down and before I could say anything, the other
little boy, also age five, spoke up and said, "My baby sister
died last Saturday." I looked up at him and I said, "I'm
sorry to hear that."
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He said, "My mom is not feeling good, all she does is cry."
He looked at me and said, "Can I have a hug too?"
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I said, "You sure can!" I was hugging those two little guys,
and I was getting kisses on my cheek, when Tyler said,
"Miss Sharon, how many children do you have?"
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I said, "I had three, and one died when he was just about
your age." Tyler asked me how did he die, and I said, a big
tree fell on him.
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His arms tightened around my neck and he said, "Miss
Sharon, I am so sorry your little boy died and I know you
must be thinking of him for this Mother's Day, but I want
to tell you that I love you. And my mom is going to be so
happy that my flowerpot is still ok."
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And then the new little boy looked at me and said "Did
you cry all the time when your little boy died?"
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I said, "Yes, I did, I cried a lot." He looked so pitiful and
said, "I wish I could make my mom happy but nothing I
do makes her happy. She misses my sister."
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I said: "Do you want to tell me how your little sister
died?"
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"She was being born," he explained " and something went
wrong and she quit breathing, and her face was bruised
my mom said, and she just died." And then he said, "All I
want for Mother's Day is to make my mom happy and not
cry." Big tears welled up in his eyes. And Tyler had tears
in his eyes, and I had tears in mine, remembering my own
little 5 year old who had died. (He never lived long
enough to make his mommy a Mother's day gift in
school).
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As Tyler started to leave to meet his mother he turned
and came back to the pavilion and he said, "Miss Sharon,
can I give you just one more hug?"
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And I smiled and I said, "I'd like that very much, Tyler."
Again those little arms reached around my neck, and then
he whispered in my hear, "I hope you have a nice
Mother's Day, Miss Sharon!"
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I know his mom won't care if there are tiny pieces
missing from his flowerpot. She won't care if some of the
soil is not there for his little flower. She's only going to
care that her little boy made her something for Mother's
Day. And that is as it should be.
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This little 5 year old brought back some memories for me
of a time when my own little boy was alive. Tyler, with
his hugs, his smiles and his beautiful disposition made
my Mother's Day this year!!
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Sharon Bryant
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Post Script
Sharon added one thing of importance to her letter. She
encourages all moms who are hurting and lonely because
of the death of a child to keep an awareness for the
siblings of those children. Sharon says "remember your
other children are hurting for their missing siblings and
for their parents."
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DISABLED GRANDMA WORKS
TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE |
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Hugs and Hope Foundation offers year-round care and
concern to pediatric cancer victims and their families.
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Harshaw, WI - September is National Cancer Awareness
Month, but this disabled grandma doesn't wait for this
once-a-year event to show her concern and care for
children suffering from this tragic disease. Marsha Jordan,
founder of HUGS and HOPE for sick children, a
Wisconsin-based organization, works year-round to
encourage child cancer victims and their parents.
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Jordan, who started the foundation for sick kids in August
2000 after being forced to give up working, due to
debilitating health problems, understands what it's like to
be sick, frustrated, and afraid.
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"In 1998, due to complications of an auto-immune
disease, I lost my eyesight," Jordan recounts. "Fortunately,
I regained some vision, but I was no longer able to work.
Suddenly, I had a lot of time on my hands." Faced with
depression and feeling a lack of purpose for her life,
Jordan filled her days with helping sick children that she
had learned about through the many online prayer chains
to which she belonged. Ironically, going blind and
becoming disabled proved beneficial. "It propelled me into
a new direction," said Jordan.
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She made a commitment just a year ago to give suffering
kids a little joy, a little hope. The Hugs and Hope
foundation she created for sick kids helps cancer stricken
children one smile at a time. Jordan says, "the project is
the most rewarding thing I've ever done." She sends sick
children toys, cards, books, and stickers; but she says, "I
receive a much greater gift than any I give."
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Because she daily received many emails requesting prayers
for children suffering from different types of cancer and
other illnesses, Jordan decided to post those stories with
pictures on a web site in order to create a network for
others who wanted to help these kids as she did.
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"Because I couldn't do any of the things I used to do," she
recalls, "I believed that I wasn't of much use to anybody
anymore." How wrong she was!
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What began as a hobby mushroomed into a full-time
ministry almost over night. Since the web site launched
in October 2000, hundreds of distraught parents have
emailed Jordan begging to have their child's story placed
on the site. The response has been phenomenal. The
foundation has a five-member board of directors and
almost 300 volunteers who work together to benefit sick
children. The organization currently has a HOLY BEARS
Fundraiser Sale underway. Volunteers across the country
are taking orders for these unique beanie bears that come
with a hang tag that looks like a Bible and each has a
unique Bible verse inside. Proceeds from the sale will
provide the funds needed for the foundation's startup
costs to become incorporated and to register for 501 (c) 3
status.
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People from every walk of life are getting involved with
Hugs and Hope. Musicians from around the country have
contributed tapes and CD's of children's music and they
have organized benefit concerts for the kids.
Publishers and authors have donated children's books.
Local merchants donate toys and beanie babies. Fast food
restaurants contribute their leftover happy meal toys.
Quilters and sewers from across the country mail
handmade quilts, crocheted angels, and teddy bears to the
children, and many youth groups work send out
hundreds of handcrafted cards.
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What's required to be a messenger of hope for a sick
child? Only the desire to help. "Whatever your ability,"
says Jordan, "you can use it to benefit suffering children
and their families. Whether it's creating graphics for a
web site, organizing benefits to raise medical funds,
sending encouraging notes to discouraged parents, or
dropping a Barney video in the mail to a child undergoing
chemotherapy . . . it all helps. And it truly makes a
difference in the lives of these children."
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For more information on how you can be a part of the
Hugs and Hope Club, visit their web site at
http://www.hugsandhope.com or contact Marsha Jordan
at 715-282-7271. Marsha Jordan, founder HUGS and HOPE
for sick children
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| Contact Information:
HUGS and HOPE Foundation for Sick Children
4550 Horsehead Lake Road
Harshaw, WI 54529
call 715-282-7271
http://www.hugsandhope.com
Marsha Jordan
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GIFTS
by Maxine Wright |
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We are all given special abilities in life. Gifts to use to
improve our lives and to help others we meet. The sad
thing is that most people go through life never realizing
their special gifts and never using them to their full
potential. Sometimes these gifts make their
announcement into our lives in strange ways.
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That is what happened to my youngest daughter, Vanessa.
Vanessa was a very active, curious, and imaginative 10-
year old that spent a lot of time alone entertaining herself.
One such day I found her in her room and she was crying
uncontrollably. Frantically I called her name but she did
not answer. I called again and still no response. I entered
the room scared that something bad was wrong and that
she was in awful pain. I reached over and hugged her,
asking what was wrong. She was wearing her daddy's
earplugs and that is why she did not hear me.
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She told me that she wanted to see what it was like for her
friend, Kim, not to be able to hear. She had worn these in
her room and outside for about an hour. She was crying
because she said she realized that Kim could not hear the
birds sing, the leaves rustle in the wind, or the splash her
rock made as it hit the mud puddle. She could not hear
the sound of her ball thumping on the ground, the
refrigerator running or even the music in her radio. With
choking speech from crying she said, "She can't even hear
her Mommy's voice."
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I comforted her and we talked about her friend's
challenges. We discussed other ways Kim could hear. One
was the use of sign language. She became very excited and
was determined she was going to learn to talk to Kim. I
was proud she was feeling better, went back to my normal
routine, and did not give the incident any more thought.
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The next day, Vanessa came home from school and she
had gotten a sign language book from the Library. She
called a young mother at our church who knew some sign
language. The adventure began. Susie and Vanessa began
to learn sign language together. They met two and three
times a week to work and practice. They met with Kim
also. Within a month, they were able to interpret the
church services for Kim.
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Vanessa and Susie started the first deaf ministry in our
country church. It wasn't long till all that saw Vanessa
using sign, recognized that she had a special gift. Not only
did she pick up the signs quickly; she was able to use her
face to express her words in the same way we use our
voice to place emphasis on words and phases. She also
had a special smoothness and grace in her movements.
Kim was so happy that she could now hear the preacher
and the choir.
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Vanessa continued with her work all through high
school. She was a camp counselor one summer and had
the privilege to room with an older deaf lady. She
admired her roommate's abilities and was amazed how
she set her alarm at night and blinking lights woke her
each morning!
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As Vanessa grew older, she became her own self-made
advocate for the deaf. She would jump anyone like a
bantam rooster if she saw someone offending or making
fun of the deaf. She did not hesitate to point out to
everyone the unique challenges they were given and the
way they faced those opportunities head on. She would
encourage others to get involved and to learn sign as their
second language.
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She made it look so easy and fluid that I too tried it but
found it is not as easy as it looks. I would fumble with my
signs and Vanessa would smile and say that's ok, that is
stuttering with your fingers. My experience with trying to
learn sign reaffirmed to me that Vanessa had been given a
special gift.
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Vanessa is grown now and she and her husband are in the
ministry. They have a beautiful little two-year old
daughter, who Vanessa is already teaching to sign. I am so
proud she continues to use her gift whenever possible.
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Are there gifts in your life that you haven't yet
recognized? We all fill a special place in this life.
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There are no two people alike and someone else cannot
do what you are meant to do. It takes courage and
commitment to explore your gifts and hard work to
determine the best path in using your gifts. Once you do,
the rewards are indescribable.
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I am exploring these new possibilities now. I have always
loved to write and tell stories. I never thought of it as a
gift. I just thought I loved to dream and put those dreams
on paper. I had never shared any of my stories with
anyone until about a year ago. I am still not sure where
this road will lead nor am I sure what I am to do with my
passion.
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When I found Vanessa in her room as a young girl, I
never dreamed that we were opening a door to a God-
given gift. Neither did I imagine that my first story would
be received so well when I submitted it for publication.
No, I am not sure where this road leads. I am sure that I
want to follow it and use the abilities I have been given. I
do not want to waste any gift. They are too precious to the
Giver. The opportunities are endless and age is no
hindrance. To use a favorite advertising phase, "Let's Just
Do It."
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GIVING UP PERFECTION
by Joseph |
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One of the hardest lessons I have ever had to learn in this
life is that we can't make things perfect. You see, I was
raised like the rest of us on far too many stories ending in,
"and they lived happily ever after." I grew up expecting
some conflict and struggle I guess, but I always seemed to
think that in the end my troubles would be overcome and
that I would live happily ever after.
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Life doesn't work like that, though. Troubles, pains,
conflicts, and struggles don't end at some point in our
lives. We don't get the reward of a perfect life for being so
good ourselves. Relationship problems, financial troubles,
sickness and disease continue and must be dealt with
throughout all of our lives. Life it seems is not perfect and
never will be no matter how much we try to make it so.
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Not only is life imperfect, but we are as well. We are all
human beings and we all make mistakes. We all have
flaws and faults in our personalities. We will never be
perfect in this life either. No matter how hard we try we
will not be perfect and no matter how hard we try we will
not find that perfect someone who will make our own
lives perfect.
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What can we do then? What can we do once we give up
on life being perfect, other people being perfect, and
ourselves being perfect? What can we do once we give up
on waiting for "Happily ever after?" Well I for one was
able to relax. I was able to relax and just choose joy and
love day by day and moment by moment. I was able to
relax and choose peace and happiness one day at a time
instead of worrying about ever after. I was able to give up
the anger, guilt, and depression that not being perfect
brings. Remember, life may never be perfect, but it can be
very happy if you choose to make it so. Relax then and
enjoy this wonderful life God has given you.
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Joseph Mazella
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Joseph is married and has three children. He works with
individuals who have mental disabilities.
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FULL CIRCLE |
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I never knew | |
When I got out of bed | |
That bright new day | |
Would begin my journey | |
At first I didn't realize | |
That I had embarked | |
But as time went by I recognized | |
I was on a pilgrimage | |
At times it was exciting | |
At others scary but I persevered | |
Now I am on a quest | |
Traveling on this road | |
To see where it takes me | |
And how far it will go | |
No matter what happens | |
I can't quit now | |
For without going full circle | |
I will always be incomplete | |
So I will finish what I started | |
I will be there when both ends meet
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Dee Ann E. L. Horvath
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BASEBALL IN THE THIRTIES
by Chet |
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In our old neighborhood in 1932, there wasn't much for
us to do. We were 15,16,17 so we hung around "Ma
Ferriola's " variety store. We decided to form a baseball
team and join the New Haven City Wide League. Well, in
those days you had to apply at Ciy Hall and get permits to
use the field not only for practice but for games.
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There were about 12 of us. I would be the manager and
captain of the team. There was Bill Capelli who would
pitch, I would be the catcher. Phil Richards normally
played third base but when we discovered what a great
arm he had throwing to first base, we decided he would
also be our pitcher. There was Frankie Stempick at short
stop, Ruby Adinolfi at second base and Frank DePino at
first base. His brother Johnny played third base when Phil
Richards pitched . In the outfield we had Hugh Gartland
in Left,"Mushie" Ciecko in Center and Lou Aurora in
Right. My father had an empty basement room in his
home and that's where we painted a 4' by 8' foot sign and
hung it on the wall and had our meetings to plan our
strategy for next Sunday's scheduled game.
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There was a City Park about a block or two away where we
would play our games which were scheduled by our New
Haven City of Parks and Recreation Department. They
were usually scheduled for Sunday afternoons and
surprisingly we had a following of about 50 fans each
Sunday's game We played teams like the "Friars," "East
Sides," "Morris Coves," "Fair Haven Boys Club,"
"Campania Club," "The Dolphins." Each Sunday A.M.
we'd get together with lawn rakes, shovels and go out to
put the field in shape for our scheduled game that day. I
would get flour from my father's bakery to make the foul
lines, so that by game time, two o'clock, the field was in
tip top shape.
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Unfortunately the field was located near MiIl River and if
a foul ball was hit to the right side it would go into the
river. Each team had to supply a new baseball for the game
so it was essential that we retrieve the ball as soon as
possible when it splashed into the river. We would
station a youngster on the river wall in swim trunks to
dive in immediately and retrieve our ball and keep it in
the game. Baseballs in those days cost a dollar apiece. The
umpire, provided by the Recreation Department would
check it and okay it for play.
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Chet Chmura
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Chet wrote:
We played our full schedule and at the end of our
schedule we were the Champions of the City Wide
League. We were the "White Owls" Champions. Back in
those days Mel Allen used to be the radio spokesman for
the White Owl Cigar Corporation. I sat down one day and
wrote a letter to the White Owl Cigar Corporation and
included newspaper clippings with stories of our victories
and asked them to help us financially. A few weeks later I
received a package in the mail from the White Owl
people. The package contained two boxes of White Owl
cigars. Well, being only 15,16,and 17, we hardly gave a
thought to smoking them. So what did we do? I took the
cigars to a nearby bar and grille and sold them to the
owner for six dollars. With the six dollars we were able to
buy six new baseballs for our next season of play.
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Oh, I forgot to mention the Sports Editor of the New
Haven Register, a likeable fellow named Dan Mulvey.
Whenever I would come into his office with a story or
scores of a game we had just played and he knowing that
my father was a baker, the first thing I heard as I stood by
his door to enter was "Did you bring the donuts"? Yes,
Dan I did and may he rest in peace.
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