conservative by nature's favorite Poems

by an Unknown Arizona Student

2007-05-26T10:37:00.000-07:00

from AFA "The Day They Kicked God Out of the Schools"

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Heaven's Very Special Child

2007-01-12T22:49:00.000-08:00

A meeting was held quite far from Earth

It was time again for another birth.

Said the Angels to the Lord above --

"This special child will need much love.

Her progress may be very slow

Accomplishment she may not show.

And she'll require extra care

From the folks she meets down there.

She may not run or laugh or play

Her thoughts may seem quite far away

So many times she will be labeled

'different,' 'helpless' and 'disabled'.

So, let's be careful where she's sent.

We want her life to be content.

Please, Lord, find the parents who

Will do a special job for you.

They will not realize right away

The leading role they are asked to play.

But with this child sent from above

Comes stronger faith, and richer love.

And soon they'll know the privilege given

In caring for their gift from heaven.

Their precious charge, so meek and mild

Is heaven's very special child."

by Edna Massimilla
of Hatboro, Pa., the widow of a pastor, when their
daughter, a child with Down syndrome, was born.
(She is now with the Lord.) When I spoke with
Edna -- who is 90 -- she explained that she wrote
the poem to emphasize that every creation is
for a purpose, and she's still writing poems and
songs especially for children with disabilities.

Thanks to Dear Abby for reprinting this wonderful poem
sharing Edna's story with her readers.

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Anyway

2007-01-12T22:09:00.000-08:00

~Author Unknown~

I ran into a stranger as he passed by,
"Oh excuse me please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too;
I wasn't watching for you."

We were very polite, this stranger and I.
We went on our way and we said good-bye.
But at home a different story is told,
How we treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My son stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked him down."
Move out of the way," I said with a frown.

He walked away, his little heart broken.
I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.
While I lay awake in bed,
God's still small voice came to me and said,

"While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use,
but the children you love, you seem to abuse.
Go and look on the kitchen floor,
You'll find some flowers there by the door.

Those are the flowers he brought for you.
He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue.
He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise,
you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes."

By this time, I felt very small,
And now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by his bed;
"Wake up, little one, wake up," I said.

"Are these the flowers you picked for me?"
He smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree.
I picked 'em because they're pretty like you.
I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue."

I said, "Son, I'm very sorry for the way I acted today;
I shouldn't have yelled at you that way.
"He said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay.
I love you...anyway."

from Mountain Wings Issue 6290

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If I Knew

2007-01-12T20:49:00.004-08:00

If I knew it would be the last time
That I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly
And pray the Lord, your soul to keep.

If I knew it would be the last time
that I see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and kiss
and call you back for one more.

If I knew it would be the last time
I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would video tape each action and word,
so I could play them back day after day.

If I knew it would be the last time
I could spare an extra minute
to stop and say "I love you,"
instead of assuming you would KNOW it.

If I knew it would be the last time
I would be there to share your day,
Well I'm sure you'll have so many more,
so I can let just this one slip away.

For surely there's always tomorrow
to make up for an oversight,
and we always get a second chance
to make everything just right.

There will always be another day
to say that "I love you,"
And certainly there's another chance
to say our "Anything I can do?"

But just in case I might be wrong,
and today is all I get,
I'd like to say how much I love you
and I hope we never forget.

Tomorrow is not promised to anyone,
young or old alike,
And today may be the last chance
you get to hold your loved ones tight.

So if you're waiting for tomorrow,
why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes,
you'll surely regret the day,

That you didn't take that extra time
for a smile, a hug, or a kiss
and you were too busy to grant someone,
what turned out to be their one last wish.

So hold your loved ones close today,
and whisper in their ear,
Tell them how much you love them
and that you'll always hold them dear

~~Author Unknown~~
Via Email

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The Bridge Builder

2006-03-20T02:11:00.000-08:00

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Here's to the Kids Who Are Different

2006-03-20T02:10:00.000-08:00

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The Dogs Who've Shared Our Lives

2006-01-31T00:10:00.000-08:00

Why Dogs Don't Live Longer Than People......

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year- old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane, were all very attached to Belker and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family there were no miracles left for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for the four-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on.

Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion.

We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why."

Startled, we all turned to him.

What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, "People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?"

The four-year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply, Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God!

by Janie Reiter

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YOU CAN'T STEAL MY CHRISTMAS

2005-12-16T21:09:00.001-08:00

Poem by Sharon Steege

I don't know who they are
Saying I can't greet the crowd
The way that I want to
Can't say CHRISTMAS out loud.

I walk into a business place
See things that I rather not see
But dare I not say CHRISTMAS
And ask for a "holiday" tree.

What happened to freedom of speech
And living in the land of the free
How can they take my CHRISTMAS money
But can't say MERRY CHRISTMAS to me.

Men and women have given their lives
So we could still go free
I wonder how they would feel
At saying "HOLIDAY" TREE.

Come on AMERICA let's wake up
Don't let our freedom escape
If they get by with doing this
What else will they take.

This is starting to get out of hand,
And I've begun to keep track
Well I've just about had enough
I'M TAKING CHRISTMAS BACK.

So MERRY CHRISTMAS AMERICA
I hope this gets all over the net
If we all stand united and take freedom back
'Twill be our best CHRISTMAS YET!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY

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'Twas the Internet Night Before Christmas

2005-12-16T21:09:00.000-08:00

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Net,
There were hacker's a surfing. Nerds? Yeah, you bet.
The e-mails were stacked by the inbox with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens,
While visions of Java danced in their dreams.
My wife on the sofa and me with a snack,
We just settled down at my rig (it's a Mac).

When out in the Web there arose such a clatter,
I jumped to the site to see what was the matter.
To a new page my Mac flew like a flash,
Then made a slight gurgle. It started to crash!!

I gasped at the thought and started to grouse,
Then turned my head sideways and clicked on my mouse.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
My Mac jumped to a page that wasn't quite clear.

When the image resolved, so bright and so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than mainframes, more graphics they came,
Then Nick glanced toward my screen, my Mac called them by name;

"Now Compaq! Now Acer!", my speaker did reel;
"On Apple! On Gateway!" Santa started to squeal!
"Jump onto the circuits! And into the chip!
Now speed it up! Speed it up! Make this thing hip!"

The screen gave a flicker, he was into my "Ram",
Then into my room rose a full hologram!
He was dressed in all red, from his head to his shoes,
Which were black (the white socks he really should lose).

He pulled out some discs he had stored in his backpack.
Santa looked like a dude who was rarin' to hack!
His eyes, how they twinkled! His glasses, how techno!
This ain't the same Santa that I used to know!

With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Santa soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, gave my Mac a quick poke,
And accessed my C drive with only a stroke.

He defragged my hard drive, and added a "Dimm",
Then threw in some cool games, just on a whim!
He worked without noise, his fingers they flew!
He distorted some pictures with Kai's Power Goo!

He updated Office, Excel and Quicken,
Then added a screensaver with a red clucking chicken!
My eyes widened a bit, my mouth stood agape,
As he added the latest version of Netscape.

The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased,
St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased.
Then placing his finger on the bridge of his nose,
Santa turned into nothing but ones and zeros!

He flew back into my screen and through my uplink,
Back into the net with barely a blink.
But I heard his sweet voice as he flew from my sight,
"Happy surfing to all, and to all a good byte!"

Author Unknown

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A Visit from Beezle

2005-12-16T20:58:00.000-08:00

by Brad Locke
from Agape Press

'Twas the night before Christmas, I sat on my couch.
My brain was not stirring, just call me the Slouch.
My bedtime was past, but what did I care?
I must watch SportsCenter, and of sports stay aware.

My thoughts they were nestled, all snug in in my head,
As visions of Chris Berman, dulled all sense of dread.
Kenny Mayne and his drollness, Stu Scott's big ol' yap,
Left in my brain not even the faintest synapse.

When out of the tube there arose so much chatter.
I opened my eyes to see who'd gotten madder.
Up to the camera a man had just dashed.
He'd cut off Jim Rome, and his "take" on Steve Nash.

The man had bad breath (don't ask how I know).
He said, "My name's Beezle, I come from below.
"When what to my sleep-crusted eyes should appear,
But a pitch for my soul with an arrogant sneer

With a little cajoling, and his rapier wit,

Beezle convinced me that he wouldn't quit.
Quite like an eagle he sunk in his claws,
As he whistled and mocked all of my great flaws:
"Your mouth's full of rancor!
Your heart lacks conviction!
Your comments are stupid!
I loathe your contentions!
I bring you a torch
To light up your faults!
I'll grind away, grind away,
'Til I see you fall!"

As fear o'ertook me, and my mouth did go dry,
I stared at this obstacle of my own design.
I pondered in wonder what course I should choose,
With a soul full of grief, and a heart that did rue.

And as I sat thinking of all Beezle's proof
Of my dancing around the cold, heartless truth;
As I drew up my knees, I dare not look up now,
For Beezle was coming right into my house.

Through my big screen, he first stuck his foot,
As he climbed in he gave me the evilest look.
A bundle of sin he'd flung over his back,
And he looked like a lawyer about to attack.

His eyes -- how they smoldered! His wrinkles, quite scary!
His cheeks were like coals, and his nose a blackberry!
His thin little mouth was drawn up in a smirk,
And the beard on his chin was as dark as wet dirt.

The stump of my will he held firm in his teeth,
And a snake encircled the head of this beast.
He had a cross face (and yes, breath so smelly),
And he shook when he laughed as my legs turned to jelly.

He was muscular, fit and quite sure of himself,
And I gasped when I realized my soul's ailing health.
A wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had plenty to dread.

He spoke hurtful words, and went straight to his work.
"You're nothing," said Beezle , "but a sports junkie jerk.
Your ten idle fingers type meaningless prose.
To reality your mind and your heart are tight closed."

I sprang to my senses, my courage did bristle.
My fears flew away as the truth became crystal.
I loudly exclaimed, "I'm a weak sinner, you're right.
But you can't convict me; I rest in Christ's might!"

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"Twas the Night Before Jesus

2005-11-16T00:31:00.000-08:00

Find out here: End Times Why Evangelical Christians think we are in the "End Times". See a 30 second video of the "rapture".

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'Twas the Day After Christmas

2005-11-15T23:33:00.000-08:00

Author Unknown

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Teachers Night Before Christmas

2005-11-15T23:27:00.000-08:00

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My First Christmas in Heaven

2005-11-15T14:46:00.000-08:00

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What Children Need

2005-11-12T22:11:00.000-08:00

from A to Z

Acceptance

Boundaries

Compassion

Devotion

Encouragement

Fun

Goals

Honesty

Inspiration

Justice

kindness

Laughter

Modeling

Nurturing

Opportunities

Praise

Quality Time

Respect

Support

Trust

Unconditional Love

Values

Wisdom

eXcitement

You

Zest

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Sarah who is but 3

2005-11-12T18:57:00.000-08:00

Sarah

My name is Sarah
I am but three,
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see,

I must be stupid,
I must be bad,
What else could have made
My daddy so mad?

I wish I were better,
I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my Mommy
Would still want to hug me.

I can't speak at all,
I can't do a wrong
Or else I'm locked up
All the day long.

When I awake I'm all alone
The house is dark
My folks aren't home.

When my Mommy does come
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll get just
One whipping tonight.

Don't make a sound!
I just heard a car
My daddy is back
From Charlie's Bar.

I hear him curse
My name he calls
I press myself
Against the wall.

I try and hide
From his evil eyes
I'm so afraid now
I'm starting to cry.

He finds me weeping
He shouts ugly words,
He says it's my fault
That he suffers at work.

He slaps me and hits me
And yells at me more,
I finally get free
And I run for the door.

He's already locked it
And I start to bawl,
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor
With my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues
With more bad words spoken.

"I'm sorry!", I scream
But it's now much too late
His face has been twisted
Into unimaginable hate.

The hurt and the pain
Again and again
Oh please God, have mercy!
Oh please let it end!

And he finally stops
And heads for the door,
While I lay there motionless
Sprawled on the floor.

My name is Sarah
And I am but three,
Tonight my daddy
Murdered me.

{To save the children, please report ALL suspected abuse to the proper authorities. It only takes a minute or so; and COULD SAVE A LIFE.}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To You Abusers:

Your inheritance is death.

Matthew 18:6

"But if anyone causes one of these little ones who trusts me to lose faith, it would be better for that person to be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around the neck."

Matthew 19:14

But Jesus said, "Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to

come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven. "

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The ABCs

2005-11-10T21:21:00.000-08:00

of
Teaching

A+ Attitude

Balance

Courage

Dedication

Enthusiasm

Fairness

Generosity

Heart

Initiative

Joyfulness

Knowledge

Leadership

Motivation

Never-ending Ideas

Optimism

Preparation

Quest for Learning

Responsibility

Sensitivity

Trustworthiness

Understanding

Versatility

Warmth

eXcellence

Your Best

Zeal

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A Little Mixed Up

2005-11-09T23:11:00.000-08:00

Just a line to say I'm living,

That I'm not among the dead.

Though I'm getting more forgetful

And more mixed up in the head!

For sometimes I can't remember,

When I stand at foot of stairs,

If I must go up for something,

Or if I've just come down from there.

And before the fridge so often

My poor mind is filled with doubt

Have I just put food away?...or

Have I come to take some out?

And there's times when it is dark out,

With my night cap on my head

I don't know if I'm retiring

Or just getting out of bed.

So...if it's my turn to write you

There's no need of getting sore,

I may think that I have written

And don't want to be a bore!!

So, remember...I do love you

And I wish that you were here,

But now it's nearly mail time,

So I must say good-bye my dear.

There I stood beside the mail box

With a face so very red

Instead of mailing you my letter,

I had opened it instead!!

My bifocals fit~~
my dentures are fine

My hearing aid works....
but....I do miss my mind!!

Author Unknown

Memory

2005-11-09T23:05:00.000-08:00

by unknown

My forgetter's getting better,
But my rememberer is broke.
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke!

For when I'm "here" I'm wondering
If I really should be "there".
And, when I try to think it through,
I haven't got a prayer!

Oft times I walk into a room,
Say "what am I here for?"
I wrack my brain, but all in vain
A zero, is my score!

At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Is, generally, me!

When shopping I may see someone,
Say "Hi" and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
I ask myself, "who was that?"

Yes, my forgetter's getting better
While my rememberer is broke,
And it's driving me plumb crazy
And that isn't any joke!

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MISS ME BUT LET ME GO

2005-09-16T07:03:00.000-07:00

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Counting Our Blessings

2005-09-11T22:38:00.000-07:00

When we
count our
many blessings;
it isn't hard
to see
that life's
most valued
treasures are
the treasures
that are free.
~~
For it isn't what
we own or buy
that signifies
our wealth.
~~
It's the special
gifts that have
no price:
our family,
friends and
health.
anonymous

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Just A Breath Away

2005-09-10T00:11:00.000-07:00

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Poem by Judge Roy Moore

2005-09-09T11:27:00.000-07:00

The following is a poem written by Judge Roy Moore from Alabama. Judge Moore was sued by the ACLU for displaying the Ten Commandments in his courtroom foyer. He has been stripped of his judgeship and now they are trying to strip his right to practice law in Alabama. The judge's poem sums it up quite well.

America the Beautiful,
or so you used to be.
Land of the Pilgrims' pride;
I'm glad they'll never see.

Babies piled in dumpsters,
Abortion on demand,
Oh, sweet land of liberty;
your house is on the sand.

Our children wander aimlessly
poisoned by cocaine,
Choosing to indulge their lusts,
when God has said abstain.

From sea to shining sea,
our Nation turns away
From the teaching of God's love
and a need to always pray.

We've kept God in our temples,
how callous we have grown.
When earth is but His footstool,
and Heaven is His throne.

We've voted in a government
that's rotting at the core,
Appointing Godless Judges
who throw reason out the door,

Too soft to place a killer
in a well deserved tomb,
But brave enough to kill a baby
before he leaves the womb.

You think that God's not angry,
that our land's a moral slum?
How much longer will He wait
before His judgment comes?

How are we to face our God,
from Whom we cannot hide?
What then is left for us to do,
but stem this evil tide?

If we who are His children,
will humbly turn and pray;
Seek His holy face
and mend our evil way:

Then God will hear from Heaven
and forgive us of our sins,
He'll heal our sickly land
and those who live within.

But, America the Beautiful,
if you don't - then you will see,
A sad but Holy God withdraw
His hand from Thee.

~Judge Roy Moore

Pass this on and let's lift Judge Moore up in prayer. He has stood firm and needs our support.

IN GOD WE TRUST!

Rejoice

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