While I was taking down my Halloween decorations this year to replace them with Thanksgiving decorations, I found that I had far less Thanksgiving decorations than Halloween. I decided that I would like to get a few more Thanksgiving decorations to even things up. I went down to my favorite box store, and while looking around the store I could not find any fall or Thanksgiving decorations. All I could see was rows and rows of Christmas decorations. I asked the store clerk where the Thanksgiving decorations were, he said that they had already clearanced out all the fall/Thanksgiving decorations, to make room for the Christmas decorations. I could not believe this! Fall is not over, and Thanksgiving is still three weeks away. It often seems to me that Thanksgiving is overlooked, but not here at pcCrafter. We have many wonderful Thanksgiving creatable collections to help you to celebrate this great holiday, and maybe make your own decorations! Have a great week, Karen
The Navy Chief noticed a new seaman and barked at him, "Get over here! What's your name sailor?" "John," the new seaman replied. "Look, I don't know what kind of bleeding-heart pansy stuff they're teaching sailors in boot camp these days, but I don't call anyone by his first name," the chief scowled. "It breeds familiarity, and that leads to a breakdown in authority. I refer to my sailors by their last names only; Smith, Jones, Baker, whatever. And you are to refer to me as 'Chief'. Do I make myself clear?" "Aye, Aye Chief!" "Now that we've got that straight, what's your last name?" The seaman sighed. "Darling. My name is John Darling, Chief." "Okay, John, here's what I want you to do...." Submitted By: Glenda Webb
MOTHERS Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it. Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.... Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids. Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't come out of carpets. Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up. Real Mothers sometimes ask "Why me?" and get their answer when a little voice says, "Because I love you best." Real Mothers know that a child's growth Is not measured by height or years or grade... It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother... The Images of Mother 4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything! 8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot! 12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn't really know quite everything. 14 YEARS OF AGE - Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either. 16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned. 18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date! 25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it! 35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion. 45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it? 65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom. The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, Because that is the doorway to her heart, The place where love resides. The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she Shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
Shoes in Church I showered and shaved and I adjusted my tie. I got there and sat down in a pew just in time. As I bowed my head in prayer I saw the shoe of the man next to me touching my own. I sighed. With plenty of room on either side I thought, "Why must our soles touch?" It bothered me, his shoe touching mine. But it didn't bother him much. A prayer began: "Our Father...." I thought, "This man with the shoes has no pride. They're dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse, there are holes on the side!" "Thank You for blessings," the prayer went on. The shoe man said a quiet "Amen." I tried to focus on the prayer but my thoughts were on his shoes again. Aren't we supposed to look our best when walking through that door? "Well, this certainly isn't it," I thought, glancing toward the floor. Then the prayer was ended, and the songs of praise began. The shoe man was certainly loud...sounding proud as he sang. His voice lifted the rafters. His hands were raised high. The Lord could surely hear the shoe man's voice from the sky. It was time for the offering, and what I threw in was steep. I watched as the shoe man reached into his pockets so deep. I saw what was pulled out, what the shoe man put in. Then I heard a soft 'clink', as when silver hits tin. The sermon really bored me to tears, and that's no lie. It was the same for the shoe man, for tears fell from his eyes. At the end of the service, as is the custom here, we must greet new visitors and show them all good cheer. But I felt moved somehow and wanted to meet the shoe man. So after the closing prayer I reached over and shook his hand. He was old and his skin was dark, and his hair was truly a mess. But I thanked him for coming, for being our guest. He said, "My names Charlie. I'm glad to meet you, my friend." There were tears in his eyes, but he had a large, wide grin. "Let me explain," he said, wiping tears from his eyes. "I've been coming here for months and you're the first to say hi. I know that my appearance is not like all the rest. But I really do try to always look my best. I always clean and polish my shoes before my very long walk. But by the time I get here...they're dirty and dusty, like chalk." My heart filled with pain and I swallowed to hide my tears as he continued to apologize for daring to sit so near. He said, "When I get here I know I must look a sight. But I thought if I could touch you, then maybe our souls might unite." I was silent for a moment, knowing whatever was said would pale in comparison. I spoke from my heart, not my head. "Oh, you've touched me," I said. "And taught me, in part, that the best of any man...is what is found in his heart." The rest, I thought, this shoe man will never know. Like just how thankful I really am...that his dirty old shoe touched my soul