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Amanda 2190 2587 Lexington	RE: Mary Evelyn's Koffee Klatch 3/5/2012 8:14:20 PM
	This little girl tells the story wonderfully from the video story I use to play to my daughter and son when they were little. She got the emphasis just right and brought back such memories of reading from the collection of Serendipity bible stories I bought for them. Thanks for sharing Quote: You'll love this little girl ...not only is she cute but she can really tell a story. Helen http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxfo-7mW74g

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Amanda 2190 2587 Lexington	RE: Mary Evelyn's Koffee Klatch 3/5/2012 8:25:24 PM
	Yes she can sing.. what a sweetie Quote: Mary Margaret can also sing ...without accompaniment Helen http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rvniAmbX-7g

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Amanda 2190 2587 Lexington	RE: Mary Evelyn's Koffee Klatch 3/5/2012 8:26:45 PM
	Another story my children watched and listened too - but Mary Margaret does the dramatics so much better than we saw.. LOL Quote: Here's one more. The story of David and Goliath ...as told by Mary Margaret. Helen http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qZYQz0_yELc

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Michael 9348 2248 Indian...	RE: Mary Evelyn's Koffee Klatch 3/5/2012 9:46:44 PM
	Hi Amanda, I will be seventy years old on March 29th. Throughout my lifetime I have tried my best to save all of my poems and writings. However, during the seventeen years that I was in prison (I mean married to my ex-wife) I had accumulated four, four subject notebooks with poems on every single page. I had written one poem that was four pages long. It was about a young boy that felt alone in the world and one evening as he said his prayers he prayed that someday he would find a better life. He found himself engulfed by what appeared to be a huge bubble and floated out the window. Rather than being frightened this boy was excited because he saw the beauty of the stars, he peaked into homes where parents and children were laughing and he saw all the goodness that he world had to offer. He floated down to a land that seamed to be untouched by humans. The bubble popped and he began to explore his surroundings. He was amazed to see animals that were grazing together without fear of one another, and trees abindant with fruit. He walked through a small patch of wooded area to a beach that seamed to shimmer in the sunlight. He was getting ready to run along the beach and scoop up handfuls of sand, but just before he stepped foot onto the beach, he stopped. For as far as the eyes could see, this beach was pristine in everyway. Not a single thing out of place. A tear rolled down his face and he could hear himself say, "No. I cannot step onto this beautiful beach because I don't belong here. I wish that I did, but I don't. I belong in the real world." It was then that he awoke when he heard glass breaking. He could then hear his parents arguing as they often did. The tears came quicker and he cried himself to sleep. The poem was based on being the youngest of ten and never really fitting in, along with my ex-wife always belittling me, because after all she had gone to nursing school for a full year. I also had a manuscript of a Science Fiction story that I had worked on for about a year. I had send it into a publishing company. About a month later it was returned. Rather than being rejected, There were notations about characters that I needed to give more details on, characters that did not support the story, storylines to keep in, and events to eliminate. The letter that accompanied the manuscript said that I had a lot of imagination but needed to show more emotion with some of the characters and less emotion with others. Once I accomplished that, they would gaurantee to publish the story. They also mentioned that I was on the right track because they felt that the first story would be a means of introducing the main characters, and that they were sure that as long as I could keep my thoughts going that I could create a series. Without taking time away from my family, I began re-writing my story. I consulted with a girl at work and gave her the first chapter to read, as she was a writer as well. She worked on the moods and temperments of the female characters as I worked on the male characters. When we discussed variations of the story I would invite her to our apartment when my wife was home, so that there would be no mistake as to what we were doing. We even had my wife add some characters as well. In six months, we had about six chapters complete and had about five chapters to go. On one of our meetings I had said that when I sent the final draft in for approvable, both my wife and the girl from work would be included as co-writers. At this point we had about 10,000 Double spaced pages complete. In between writing the story I would also write poetry, some of which I included in the story. The three of us went back and forth on a title and I believe we settled for "Redemption Day" or something to that effect. I was working full time, and my wife was working full time on different shifts. I felt that things were going pretty good. The girl from work was working on ideas for the next chapter and I was doing the same. About a month later She gave me her ideas (I believe her name was Sandy but I'm not sure.) and when I got home from work I went to the desk where I kept my manuscript and poems and could not find them. My wife was at work and my three kids were watching T.V. The babysitter was getting ready to leave. I asked the kids if they knew where the papers were that were in the desk draws. My oldest son and daughter had strange looks on their faces as they looked at each other. My youngest son said, "Ma threw them out." My knees almost went out from under me, but the baby sitter rushed over to balance me. She also knew about the book. She had a shocked look on her face as well and asked, "Tim. Are you sure? Your father has put a lot of time into the book and poems." There was basically ten years worth of poems and a book that just vanished from sight. When I asked my wife why she did it, she simply shrugged her shoulders and said, "You were taking too long. I want the money now, not ten years from now." I began to cry and she said , "Oh, poor baby. Mommy threw out your toys. Besides, they were taking up too much room. Besides, all you have to do is write them over, and then I'll throw them out again." She laughed and walked away. I am slowly getting back to writing with Shirley's help, but it isn't easy to retrace twenty years of work. As it is going to be my 70th birthday, I believe the cake will look like this. GOD BLESS YOU ~Mike~ http://www.countryvalues65.com
	Michael J. Caron (Mike) TRUTH IN ADVERTISING!! Friends First. Business Later.
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Luis Miguel 1162 61587 Lima	RE: Mary Evelyn's Koffee Klatch 3/5/2012 10:20:20 PM
	Hello Mike, I have for long thought along the same lines than Amanda, that you should only work writing stories or poetry or anything for a living. You are naturally endowed for it. I have never read a post from you that I was not immediately trapped by it - or, rather, by the way you wrote it. But I don't think you need to retake your same stories from the past, you can certainly write about anything you like and make it so fascinating that the reader will immediately feel trapped too. Hugs, Miguel
	"Choose a job you love and you will not have to work a day in your life" (Confucius)
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