Hello Grandma

 

Proverbs 22:6King James Version (KJV)

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

Hello Grandma…

Patty cake, patty cake baker’s man…
Will you play with me, I cried as I ran…
I’m only three no bigger than a twig,
I love to skip and hop and jump,
I wish that I was big…
When I grow up I’ll be this tall, well, much taller than a tree
Then you’ll have to stop and take notice, and spend some time with me…
I want you to read me a story
And watch the stars at night
If I be real quiet, will that be alright…
Daddy’s always working he’s gone, morning, noon and night
And mommy, well she’s real sad and I don’t want to make her mad…
It’s just that no one understands, I’m just a little lad…
I cry alone all by myself and need a loving hand…
Can you help me tie my shoes, comb my hair and make my bed…
Mommy says I’m old enough, and listen to what she says…
Grandma, will you come over and stay with me all day…
We’ll have the best time ever as we laugh and eat and play…
I love you grandma…goodnight, see you when the sky opens!

The Answer:
Little one I'll be over, as soon as the day begins
I've waited a long time, to be with you again
Why just yesterday I saw you, an eternity for me
I know it's hard for little lads I understand you see
Mommy's and daddy's have to work and sometimes
It's difficult, to stop and laugh and play when bills have to be paid...
But they love you Oh so much, and hope you understand
That one day you'll be all grown up, you'll be a handsome man...
That's why God created grandma's and grandpa's,
To retire when they are old,
He knew that time with little ones,
Were more precious than silver or gold...
I love you too sweet little one...goodnight until tomorrow...
We'll laugh and play the patty cake, and chase the loneliness away too!

By Marla Shaw O’Neill December 23, 2015©

Father Time, Mother Do It Now, Sister Day Dream and Brother Make Believe

 

 

My Little Story

Sister Day Dream sat staring into space thinking about the lovely tree house she would build as soon as Father Time would take the time, to build it with her.

Brother Make Believe pretends to be the captain of a ship and sails from sunup to sundown. He calls his ship, Bonita of the river.

Father Time, lay in his hammock with plenty of time to spare and no worries of any kind.

In walks Mother Do It Now, singing a happy song, she stops, assesses the situation, then clapping her hands together she shouts, Sister Day Dream, Brother Make Believe and Father Time…snap out of it this instant and I mean now!!!!

Startled to the present, everyone jumps up to do as Mother Do It Now commands.

In a time long, long ago, there lived a little family who lived in a cottage next to the river of Shalom.

There were no cars or trains or planes as a matter of fact they were the only ones who lived within 600 miles of other people.

There was no internet, no television or radio, no cell phones or electronic games, there was no electricity.

They made candles for light and dug a well for fresh water.

Their garden had a variety of vegetables and fruit trees. They had sheep for wool and chickens for eggs, herbs for medicine and spices for seasoning. They caught fish to eat from the river.

Everything they needed was right there on the land they tilled.

Father Time never rushed or hurried.

Mother Do It Now did everything on the spot.

Sister Day Dream played until her heart was content.

Brother Make Believe created a world of wonder with magnificent stories and things he conjured up from his imagination.

Life was full and good and peaceful.

Until….

By: Marla Shaw O’Neill December 9, 2015©

Immigrants 11/3/2009 By: Mark Liverio, My Son

 

November 11, 2013 · Edited ·

Immigrants. Written by Mark Liverio
November 3, 2009 at 8:01pm
I have to admit, every time I hear the following poem or the times I've been fortunate enough to see Lady Liberty reflecting green off the harbor (and if you haven't seen it, please make it a point to) I can't get that last line out of my head. And it causes me to think deeply about what I really believe.
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
The golden door.
My mother's family has been here since the 1600's. My ancestors (from England, Ireland, and Scotland) include everything from a major who fought for the colonists in the Revolutionary War to my own service in the Persian Gulf War and every major American engagement in between. 400 years ago they sailed across the ocean knowing that 1 out of every 15 ships making the run would sink. They landed on a beach. Stepped off into the woods and built a life. They settled what is now Virginia, Alabama, Georgia, and eventually Florida. They survived war, hunger, disease, enemies (including each other) - all for me.
Then my father's family, only here for 3 generations. Came over from Sicily in the early 1900's. As soon as that first Liverio son was old enough he put on the green of a US Army Air Corps uniform to fight for the Stars and Stripes - the only home he ever knew. He stayed on in the US Air Force for 22 years engaging enemy troops in Korea and Vietnam and receiving the Bronze Star for Valor. His son a US Air Force medic and then City of Tampa firefighter, his son US Naval Intelligence and then school teacher.
And as my great-grandfather entered at Ellis Island, their ship swimming right past Liberty Island, refugees from across the ocean - legal yes, but immigrants just the same - and as I stood at Ellis Island nearly 100 years later and looked out at her with her torch held high I couldn't help but imagine the intense sense of awe at what they must have seen that day, felt that day, tasted that day, heard that day, and believed that day. As they moved through the line, at the start La Famiglia Oliverio and at the finish The Liverio Family, did they tear-up with joy at the promise of a new life in the New World? Did my great-grandfather see me through the lense of dreams and see the successes I would achieve all as a result of his decision to move his family across an ocean? I think he did. And I thank him for it.
And I can't get that last line Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door! out of my head - without thinking deep about what I really believe.
Who are we if we're not Americans?
Thoughts on a thing,
Mark

 

Don't Ever Give Up!

As an encouragement to my fellow writers...story tellers and poets here is a list of some of the greats who were rejected but did not give up...

 

After 5 years of continual rejection, the writer finally lands a publishing deal: Agatha Christie. Her book sales are now in excess of $2 billion. Only William Shakespeare has sold more.

 The Christopher Little Literary Agency receives 12 publishing rejections in a row for their new client, until the eight-year-old daughter of a Bloomsbury editor demands to read the rest of the book. The editor agrees to publish but advises the writer to get a day job since she has little chance of making money in children’s books. Yet Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by J.K. Rowling spawns a series where the last four novels consecutively set records as the fastest-selling books in history, on both sides of the Atlantic, with combined sales of 450 million.

 Louis L’Amour received 200 rejections before Bantam took a chance on him. He is now their best ever selling author with 330 million sales.

 “Too different from other juveniles on the market to warrant its selling.” A rejection letter sent to Dr Seuss. 300 million sales and the 9th best-selling fiction author of all time.

140 rejections stating “Anthologies don’t sell” until the Chicken Soup for the Soul series by Jack Canfield & Mark Victor Hansen sells 125 million copies.

5 publishers reject L.M. Montgomery‘s debut novel. Two years after this rejection, she removes it from a hat box and resubmits. L.C. Page & Company agree to publish Anne of Green Gables and it goes on to sell 50 million copies.

The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter was rejected so many times she decided to self-publish 250 copies. It has now sold 45 million.

Margaret Mitchell gets 38 rejections from publishers before finding one to publish her novel Gone With The Wind. It sells 30 million copies.

“It was rejected 60 times. But letter number 61 was the one that accepted me. Three weeks later we sold the book to Amy Einhorn Books.” Kathryn Stockett on the worldwide best-seller: The Help.

Rejections are hard but they are part of the writing journey to see the complete list click on the following link-

http://www.literaryrejections.com/best-sellers-initially-rejected/