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Grannyx16
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Granny's Family
As Queeny suggested I've opened this thread and will post hubby's poetry and some family pics ..
This first poem hubby wrote Friday night for a friend of ours Baptism that was on Saturday...hope you like...I thought he did an excellent job...
THE BAPTISM
You go through life wondering what to do,
Then all of a sudden it comes to you.
Someone knocks on your front door,
He introduces himself as an LDS Elder.
He asked 'May I talk to you?
I would like to tell you about the Church that is true.”
You tell him sure. Come on in ,
Thats when your life really begins.
You listen to what he has to say,
And wonder how you'd benefit and in what way?
He tells you all sorts of things about the people and the Church,
And you wonder just how much its really worth.
You attend some meetings to meet some friends
And you are a little bewildered to no end.
You even attend one of our Baptisms, to see what it was all about
And by this time you don't have a shred of doubt.
So you have decided to become a member cause thats what you really want.
And now my friend let me tell you, its your turn to enter the font.
So as I end this little poem very happily,
I would like to be the first to welcome you to our Family.
Written by
Allen W. Ponte
01/12/2008
--- My Blog: Cross Country Trek By Horseback
Reading: 15 pges a day of the Bible & Book of Mormon
Writing: Cantor Mysteries-Eyes of the Killer(book ! of 4) |
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1/13/2008, 9:36 pm
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Grannyx16
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Re: Granny's Family
Everyone at the Baptism was so touched as well that they all wanted a copy...plus MK is adding the poem to the Church's Scrapbook and it will be included in the Newsletter...its definitely is an honor for Allen (really boost his ego-heehee)....He has written other poems some are really excellent (thought provoking) and some are silly...I'll have to find 'em all..me I'm more of a writer of novels than poems but I think I made a stab at poetry once or twice....
--- My Blog: Cross Country Trek By Horseback
Reading: 15 pges a day of the Bible & Book of Mormon
Writing: Cantor Mysteries-Eyes of the Killer(book ! of 4) |
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1/14/2008, 11:03 am
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Grannyx16
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Re: Granny's Family
Below is the News article that was in the paper (and on Yahoo News on-line) about President Gordon B. Hinkley's service today.
Mormon church lays president to rest
By JENNIFER DOBNER, Associated Press Writer
The president of the Mormon church was remembered Saturday as a "giant among men" who cared deeply for others and devoted his life to the work of his faith.
Thousands of people, including some who waited overnight, packed the conference center of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, capping a week of mourning for Gordon B. Hinckley. He died Sunday at age 97 after leading the worldwide church for nearly 13 years.
Thomas S. Monson, next in line to succeed Hinckley, spoke twice during the service, and described his friend as a "prophet to the people."
God sometimes places a "giant among men," Monson said. "President Hinckley was such a giant.
"He was our prophet, seer and revelator. He was an island of calm in a sea of storm. He was a lighthouse to the lost mariner. ... He comforted and calmed us when conditions in the world were frightening," Monson said.
During Hinckley's presidency, which began in 1995, the church experienced unprecedented worldwide growth, expanding to 13 million members in 160 countries. He established an education fund to help returned missionaries, grew the church's humanitarian work and built dozens of temples around the world.
"Disciplined and courageous, with an unbelievable capacity for work, he believed in growth," daughter Virginia H. Pearce said.
Next week, the church will dedicated its 125th temple, in Rexburg, Idaho, one of more than 75 built under Hinckley's direction.
"President Hinckley was about miracles," a senior bishop, H. David Burton, said as he spoke about temples and other milestones.
The world-famous Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang "My Redeemer Lives" to open the funeral in the 21,000-seat downtown conference center, one of four hymns during the 90-minute service.
Overflow seating was available in the Salt Lake Tabernacle and at least two other buildings. The service could be heard through speakers outdoors on Temple Square.
Hours before the funeral began, lines stretched out of the square, where free tickets were being distributed, and onto the sidewalk. Some people spent the night in freezing weather to get a pass, and volunteers distributed hot chocolate.
"There's nowhere else on Earth I'd rather be at this moment, even if it's freezing," said Michelle Miller of Salt Lake City, who was waiting to get in.
Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney, a Mormon, took time off the campaign trail to attend the funeral. Politicians from Utah, Idaho, California, Arizona, Nevada and Oregon attended, including Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, also a Mormon.
Hinckley will be buried in the Salt Lake City Cemetery, alongside his wife. His successor is expected to be named next week.
On Friday, faithful Latter-day Saints came by the thousands — some standing in line for nearly three hours — to walk by Hinckley's open casket to pay their respects during two days of public mourning, which drew 57,443 people, according to the church.
Many in attendance called the occasion bittersweet, saying they were sad for themselves, but comforted in their belief that the church president had been reunited with his wife, Marjorie, who died in 2004.
A ceremony performed inside Mormon temples binds families together for time and all eternity, said Jana Riess, a Mormon convert and the Cincinnati-based co-editor of "Mormonism for Dummies."
"I don't want to be too cliche, but this idea that Mormons hold fast to their eternal families makes an enormous difference in how they feel about death," Riess said.
Mormons also differ from other Christians in their belief that heaven will not be a place of rest, but one where the work of the church and individuals will continue — something Hinckley often mentioned in his speeches to members.
"We have things to do. Mormonism is a religion of activity and of mission," Riess said. "Part of that mission will be taking place in the afterlife. We believe people will still have the opportunity to make spiritual choices."
--- My Blog: Cross Country Trek By Horseback
Reading: 15 pges a day of the Bible & Book of Mormon
Writing: Cantor Mysteries-Eyes of the Killer(book ! of 4) |
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2/2/2008, 10:02 pm
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Loveable Bitch
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Re: Granny's Family
Thanks for that article. It was very informative.
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2/3/2008, 3:52 am
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Grannyx16
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Re: Granny's Family/ Fire Rainbow
THIS IS A FIRE RAINBOW - THE RAREST OF ALL NATURALLY OCCURRING ATMOSPHERIC PHENOMENA.
THE PICTURE WAS CAPTURED THIS WEEK ON THE IDAHO/WASHINGTON BORDER.
THE EVENT LASTED ABOUT 1 HOUR.
CLOUDS HAVE TO BE CIRRUS, AT LEAST 20K FEET IN THE AIR, WITH JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF ICE CRYSTALS AND THE SUN HAS TO HIT THE CLOUDS AT PRECISELY 58 DEGREES.
God's handiwork. Beautiful sight!
--- My Blog: Cross Country Trek By Horseback
Reading: 15 pges a day of the Bible & Book of Mormon
Writing: Cantor Mysteries-Eyes of the Killer(book ! of 4) |
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2/19/2008, 5:03 pm
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Grannyx16
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Re: Granny's Family/Teamwork
The true meaning of Trust.
This has got to be the
Photo of the Year
Friendship, teamwork, and love
defined in a single photo.......
--- My Blog: Cross Country Trek By Horseback
Reading: 15 pges a day of the Bible & Book of Mormon
Writing: Cantor Mysteries-Eyes of the Killer(book ! of 4) |
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2/19/2008, 5:10 pm
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Grannyx16
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Re: Granny's Family
Yeah I thought the 'Rocket Furniture' was totally awesome...Allen has been studying the pics and he thinks he could make something similar....(but I kind of doubt that it'll have the ratan texture...)
--- My Blog: Cross Country Trek By Horseback
Reading: 15 pges a day of the Bible & Book of Mormon
Writing: Cantor Mysteries-Eyes of the Killer(book ! of 4) |
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3/6/2008, 8:02 pm
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Grannyx16
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Re: Granny's Family/True Story
This is a very heart warming story that I felt the need to share when finished reading it...Hope ya'al find it as inspiring as I do...
(true story)
A Girl with an Apple
August 1942. Piotrkow, Poland. The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women and children of Piotrkow's Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square. Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had ran rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated.
'Whatever you do,' Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me, 'don't tell them your age. Say you're sixteen'. I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker. An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. He looked me up and down, then asked my age. 'Sixteen,' I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood.
My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children, sick and elderly people. I whispered to Isidore, 'Why?' He didn't answer. I ran to Mama's side and said I wanted to stay with her. 'No,' she said sternly. 'Get away. Don't be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.' She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood: She was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once, she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her.
My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany. We arrived at the Buchenwald concentration camp one night weeks later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued uniforms and identification numbers. 'Don't call me Herman anymore.' I said to my brothers. 'Call me 94983..'
I was put to work in the camp's crematorium, loading the dead into a hand-cranked elevator. I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number. Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald's sub-camps near Berlin. One morning I thought I heard my mother's voice Son, she said softly but clearly, I am sending you an angel. Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream. But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work. And hunger. And fear.
A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a young girl with light, almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree. I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German.
'Do you have something to eat?' She didn't understand. I inched closer to the fence and repeated question in Polish. She stepped forward.. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life. She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'
I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat - a hunk of bread or, better yet, an apple. We didn't dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death for us both. I didn't know anything about her just a kind farm girl except that she understood Polish. What was her name? Why was she risking her life for me? Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples.
Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia.. 'Don't return,' I told the girl that day. 'We're leaving.' I turned toward the barracks and didn't look back, didn't even say good-bye to the girl whose name I'd never learned, the girl with the apples.
We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed. On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00 AM. In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death seemed ready to claim me, but somehow I'd survived. Now, it was over. I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited.
At 8 A.M. there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers. Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. Everyone was running, so I did too.
Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I'm not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival. In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person's goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none. My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come.
Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America, where my brother Sam had already moved. I served in the U. S. Army during the Korean War, and returned to New York City after two years. By August 1957 I'd opened my own electronics repair shop. I was starting to settle in.
One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me. 'I've got a date. She's got a Polish friend. Let's double date.' A blind date? Nah, that wasn't for me. But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma. I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn't so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life.
The four of us drove out to Coney Island. Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too! We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn't remember having a better time.
We piled back into Sid's car, Roma and I sharing the backseat. As European Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, 'Where were you,' she asked softly, 'during the war?' 'The camps,' I said, the terrible memories still vivid, the irreparable loss. I had tried to forget.. But you can never forget.
She nodded. 'My family was hiding on a farm in Germany, not far from Berlin,' she told me. 'My father knew a priest, and he got us Aryan papers.' I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. And yet here we were, both survivors, in a new world.
'There was a camp next to the farm.' Roma continued. 'I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples every day.'
What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy. 'What did he look like? I asked. He was tall, Skinny, and Hungry. I must have seen him every day for six months.' My heart was racing. I couldn't believe it. This couldn't be. 'Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?' Roma looked at me in amazement. 'Yes,' That was me! ' I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions. I couldn't believe it My angel.
'I'm not letting you go.' I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn't want to wait. 'You're crazy!' she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week. There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I'd found her again, I could never let her go.
That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren I have never let her go.
Herman Rosenblat Miami Beach, Florida
This is a true story and you can find out more by Googling Herman Rosenblat as he was bar mitzvahed at age 75. This story is being made into a movie called The Fence.
Last edited by Grannyx16, 3/11/2008, 9:41 pm
--- My Blog: Cross Country Trek By Horseback
Reading: 15 pges a day of the Bible & Book of Mormon
Writing: Cantor Mysteries-Eyes of the Killer(book ! of 4) |
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3/11/2008, 9:37 pm
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Grannyx16
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Re: Granny's Family
I have the following stuck on my fridge...it was said by a very dear sweet lady that passed away shortly after making this speech to all the Relief Society Ladies during one of the RSL events.
From the memoirs of the Late Marjorie Pay Hinckley said is my 'ALL TIME FAVE' and the one that I would really go by...
quote:
"I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifullly tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed and with long perfectly manicured fingernails.
I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp. I want to be there with grass stains on my shoes from mowing Sister Schenck's lawn. I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbor's children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone's garden. I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and tears of a friend on my shoulder.
I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.
--- My Blog: Cross Country Trek By Horseback
Reading: 15 pges a day of the Bible & Book of Mormon
Writing: Cantor Mysteries-Eyes of the Killer(book ! of 4) |
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3/20/2008, 8:02 am
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Loveable Bitch
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Re: Granny's Family
The chairs etc was a very clever idea. That should be marketed more for people who live in bedsits or small rooms.
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3/21/2008, 9:36 am
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CONGRATULATIONS TO ALLEN!!! 
..... and thanks for sharing it with us! 
Tell Hubby we approve....(not that it means much, coming from a whole bunch of obsessing lunatics!) :bigsmile:
Is the first time that I see a square watermelons!