TELL ME A STORY

TELL ME A STORY
"Tell your children of it, and let your children tell their children, and their children another generation." Joel 1:3

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking


THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS:
FLIGHT 93
"WITH YOU"

Today is December 31, 2013:  the last day of the year.

 

I have one more Christmas story for you before you  "toast in", or "pray in"  the New Year, and I have some photos to share of more projects my family completed before Christmas.    

My daughter, Kristin, says I need a sign above my craft room (formerly known as dining room and kitchen) that says:  "Mrs. Santa's Workshop." 

I will share directions for the projects in future blogs - but for now - please enjoy these photos from Mrs. Santa's Workshop/Kitchen

Homemade Chocolate Spoons.  (Sir in Coffee or Hot Chocolate)  Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood


Homemade Chocolate Spoons.  (Sir in Coffee or Hot Chocolate)  Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

 
Homemade Goodies in Cute Bags.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

Homemade Goodies in Cute Bags.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
 
White Chocolate Pretzels.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
 
White Chocolate Pretzels.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

White Chocolate Pretzels.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
  
White Chocolate Pretzels.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
   
Homemade Goodies in Cute Bags.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

Homemade Goodies in Cute Bags.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood


 
Homemade Hot Chocolate Mix in Tins With Red Bird Scoops.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
   
Lip Balm Decorated With Christmas Stickers.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
 
Vanilla Lip Balm from Bulk Apothecary.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
 
Lip Balm Decorated With Christmas Stickers & Scratch 'n Sniff Stickers.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

Lip Balm Decorated With Christmas Stickers & Scratch 'n Sniff Stickers, and Packaged in White Organza Bags.  Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood


Homemade Peanut Clusters.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
Remember the mini-pails I made previously?

Here they are - finally filled with candy.

They were my favorite project of the 2013 Christmas season.

These precious mini-pails have also given me the most headaches - since several of the photographs have fallen off the pails.  I need to  re-glue them with #E-6000 Spray.  I think I will wipe the pails with rubbing alcohol first - and then re-glue.

Any ideas?!

Mini-Pails Filled With Candy & Ornaments.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood


Mini-Pails Filled With Candy & Ornaments.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood


Mini-Pails Filled With Candy & Ornaments.   Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood


Last - but certainly not least - I am blessed to share one more story in 2013.  

This incredible story comes from Brian Mavis, CEO and Founder at Adopt Colorado Kids and Community Impact at Life Bridge Christian Church.  



FLIGHT 93 
AND 
THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS

From Brian Mavis


I have a friend named Don.

Actually, Don is more of an acquaintance, but if we had more chances to connect, we'd be friends.  I know Don because we have spoken at a couple of the same conferences.  At one conference, Don said he had been a rugby player.  

He  said when you have the ball, and you're dodging tacklers, your teammates to the left, right, and behind will yell:  "WITH YOU!"

Don's team even made this their slogan, and it eventually became their friendship motto off the field, too.

On September 11, 2001, Don was in line to board United Flight 93.  Two of his rugby buddies, Mark Bingham and Jeremy Glock, were boarding that same flight.  While Don was waiting to board, he got a call asking him to fill in for a speaker that evening in Houston.  Don agreed to it.  He left the United Flight 93 gate to take Flight 91 to Houston, saying goodbye to his buddies with a "WITH YOU!"

A few years after that fateful flight, Don was one of the people invited to listen to the onboard tapes of those final moments on Flight 93.  We know that a small group of passengers including Mark Bingham, Jeremy Glick, and Todd Beamer made an attempt to regain control of the plane from the hijackers.  

Don said it was a heart-grieving experience to listen to the harrowing screams just before the explosion and silence.  

But, Don said before that terrible end, you can hear Mark yell out "WITH YOU!" right before you hear "Let's Roll!"

"WITH YOU!"  

That simple saying of encouragement and friendship is also the message and meaning of Christmas.

Jesus  is "IMMANUEL," meaning "GOD WITH US."

What does Christmas mean?

It means even when you feel alone, God is "WITH YOU!"

When you feel brokenhearted, God is "WITH YOU!"

When you feel like your life has been hijacked, and is crashing, God is "WITH YOU!"

This isn't just a message of proximity; it's a message of affinity.

God is with you, and for you.  He is near you, and endeared to you.  

God is "WITH YOU!" because that's how love rolls. 

May All My Friends and Family...
     ...Have A Merry and Meaningful Christmas!

Love
Brian


 United Flight 93
CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Airlines_Flight_93 


9/11 Terrorist Attacks 
CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:
http://www.911memorial.org/ 


IMMANUEL GOD WITH US 
 CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:
http://images.search.yahoo.com/search/images;_ylt=A0SO8xcjHMNSeC0A5d1XNyoA;_ylu=X3oDMTB0MDQxdTIwBHNlYwNzYwRjb2xvA2dxMQR2dGlkA1ZJUDM1MV8x?_adv_prop=image&fr=mcafee&va=immanuel+god+with+us

  
Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

Happy New Year!


Coming in 2014:   


  •         Casey and CJ's Love Story
Copyright 2013 CJR. 
 
       

  •  More Stories from The Disciples
 
Copyright 1939 Lisa Diesel


  •         More Projects
Marcia's Handmade Beveled Glass Pendant Made From Her Photographs.  Copyright 2009 Marcia Norwood
  
Jewelry Tools.  Copyright 2009 Marcia Norwood

 
Handstamped Copper Necklace.  Copyright 2009 Marcia Norwood
 

Thanks for stopping by!

Come back often, and invite a friend!

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

Hand-stamped Copper Necklace.  Copyright 2009 Marcia Norwood


 



Saturday, December 28, 2013

THE CRYING CHAIR

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking


THE CRYING CHAIR

I wrote a story about my family called, The Crying Chair. 

My story was published in 2001, by Adams Media Corporation in the flagship book of their series, A CUP OF COMFORT.  
 CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:  
http://www.abebooks.com/CUP-COMFORT-Lady-Blue-Dress-Wish/4644404504/bd 

I maintain the copyright for the story, so I am able to share it with you today.  I made some minor corrections to the story that the editors didn't get quite right in the book.    It happens.  

Both my parents, Natalie and Jewell Bush, were alive when our story was published.  Mom carried the book, A CUP OF COMFORT,  with her to the hospital for her cancer treatments. She proudly showed the story to the doctors and nurses at the hospital, and her wonderful hospice nurses who cared for her at home for over one year


Mom (Mema) went to Heaven in February 2003.  She left each of our family members Crying Towels that she hand embroidered.   After all - there was only one Crying Chair, and there were many more tears to come.   Dad went to Heaven in July 2003.  


Mema's Hand-Embroidered Crying Towel.  Copyright 2003 Marcia Norwood

Are you in the midst of a storm? 

Are you overwhelmed?

Are you grieving the loss of a loved one, family pet, job or house?

Please give yourself permission to cry.



Psalm 56:8
 You (God) keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.

The Holy Bible
New Living Translation





Revelation 21:  4-5
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes;
and there shall be no more death,
neither sorrow, nor crying,
neither shall there be any more pain:
for the former things are passed away.
And He that sat upon the throne said:
Behold, I make all things new.
And He said unto me,
Write:  for these words are true and faithful.




The Holy Bible
King James Version



It's good to cry.
It's healthy to cry.


The Health Benefits of Tears
CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser: 
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/judith-orloff-md/emotional-wellness_b_653754.html
 

 


Here's our story:  The Crying Chair.




 






The Crying Chair



By  Mary Marcia Lee Norwood



Copyright 1999





            Each  chair at Mom and Dad's  kitchen table was spoken for.   As the oldest of four -- I had first pick.  I picked the one directly across from Dad.  Everybody knew it was "Marcia's  chair."  My sister, Gloria, chose her chair next -- followed by my brothers Bret and Terry.  Selections were made in birth order:  first come . . . first served . . . you might say.  Mom didn't sit much.  She was usually up waiting on one of us. 



            Sometimes  I gave up my chair for guests,  and it was known by another name: "The Crying Chair."  Family, friends and neighbors sat in that chair when they needed a good cry, and someone to share their burdens.   To this day folks still come to sit in The Crying Chair at  my parents' house, in Liberty, Missouri.  Folks like Fran and Bob, who  once lived across the street , , , shared coffee, stories and tears at our kitchen table.  They moved from our old neighborhood, but when Bob died, Fran returned to The Crying Chair.



We're a family of natural-born weepers, from my parents, Natalie and Jewell Bush, right on down the line to all four of their children, now grown with little weepers of our own.  Not that our lives have been filled with extraordinary tragedy or that our hearts are filled with sorrow, it's just that crying is comfort for the soul.


Mom said that it was only natural for "Marcia's Chair" to become the official Crying Chair, since I was the most tenderhearted crier in the family.  I put The Crying Chair to good use throughout my life: when my dog, Midnight, died; when Dad was injured in a terrible car accident;  when Dad sang us a song about a little crippled girl; when I watched Superman take a crippled boy on a Super flight on our black-and-white TV; and when my two-year-old brother, Terry, tried to be Superman and jumped from the neighbor's tall slide - which required brain surgery.  Of course, I took to The Crying Chair when a boyfriend broke up with me.

Yet, I was not an unhappy child.  In fact, quite the opposite:  I was very happy. 
The Crying Chair gave me a place to park my emotional baggage, so I could get on with my life.  There were also times when I took to The Crying Chair with tears of joy:  each time my sister, Gloria and I were chosen for the cheerleading squads; when I was crowned Sweetheart Queen; when I left for college; when I came home from college; when I became engaged, and when I became pregnant with each child. 

The Crying Chair worked so well throughout the years -- I decided to borrow the idea for my Kindergarten classroom at a private Christian school where I taught for seven years.  The idea came to me when I was trying to find ways to console one of my Kindergarten students.  He cried uncontrollably each morning when he arrived at school, and several times throughout the day.  His parents were going through a divorce.  This little guy was shifted from one parent to the next, and he never knew who would bring him to school or pick him up. 

            With great pomp and circumstance I announced the arrival of The Crying Chair  in our Kindergarten classroom.  It was just a regular chair that I "named" and moved to an isolated part of our room.  I placed a box of tissues within arm's reach of  The Crying Chair.   The students listened with wide -eyed wonder as I proclaimed the rules for The Crying Chair.  They even added a few of their own.

Rules For The Crying Chair

1.  Teacher:  The Crying Chair is NOT a punishment or time out.
Student:  We won't get in trouble.

2.  Teacher:  Raise your hand and state your need for  The Crying Chair.
 Permission will be granted.
Student:  Ask the teacher first.

3.  Teacher:  All outbursts made while in The Crying Chair 
shall be uttered at a moderate level,
so as not to bother the other students, and
NOT to draw attention to oneself. 
Student:  No screaming.

4.  Teacher:  Length of stay in The Crying Chair is up to the individual; 
however, five-minute intervals are suggested,
which may be extended if necessary.
Student:  Hurry up.  Get it over with.

5.  Teacher:  The Crying Chair is available to both students and teachers.
Student:  Teachers cry, too?

6.  Teacher:  Other students will not be permitted
to harass or make-fun-of anyone in The Crying Chair
Student:  Don't start a fight.

7.  Teacher:  Other students are encouraged to pray for and
show special kindness to the person in The Crying Chair .
Student:  Be nice. Be kind.  Pray.

            The Crying Chair was a special chair.  The students almost had a reverence for it.  The precious  student  who  cried uncontrollably would raise his little hand for permission to sit in The Crying Chair.  Then he would bury his head in his hands, and sob.  My heart ached for him, but  I rejoiced as I watched  other students (of their own choice)  bow their heads in prayer for their classmate.  Some asked for permission to walk over to  The Crying Chair and give him a pat on the back -- or a hug.  Other times a classmate would quietly place a piece of candy for him  on the table beside The Crying Chair. 

After a brief time in the chair  he would dry his eyes, ask for permission to get a drink of water and go to the bathroom before returning  to his regular seat in class.  Not one student teased him about sitting in The Crying Chair.  As his life took on some semblance of order, his trips to the chair became less frequent.  


           The Crying Chair worked so well the two years it was in my classroom, that I wished I had thought to use it the previous five years of my teaching career.  Many students sat in The Crying Chair for different reasons.  It provided a safe place to cry.  It was never used for everyday trials and tribulations of being a child.  It was never used for skinned knees and playground scrapes, or embarrassment over spilled milk or juice, or frustration of a lost field-trip slip...not even for hurt feelings from name-calling.  

       Always - the source of tears was more traumatic when a child came to The Crying Chair:  like the loss of a pet or a grandparent.  For three children who had been abandoned by their mothers, and were being raised by other family members, it provided a soft place to fall, and to cry.  One student  strived so hard for perfection in printing letters his entire body shook.  He discovered a little cry in The Crying Chair relaxed him enough to try again.  After being molested by a neighbor, one child sat and sobbed until I thought all our hearts would break.

 
            One particular day,  I felt overwhelmed with the duties of teaching and motherhood and marriage.   I announced to the class that I needed to spend some time in The Crying Chair.  I laid my  head in my hands and cried.  As the tears flowed down my cheeks I felt the touch of many tiny hands as my students walked by and  gently patted me on the back. 

            The teacher learned compassion from her students.
           
            The students learned a teacher hurts just like they hurt, and cries just like they cry.



            Both learned  to love each other.

           
 

The Crying Chair



By  Mary Marcia Lee Norwood



Copyright 1999


SIBLINGS!  From Left:  Gloria, Terry, Marcia and Bret.  Copyright 1976 Marcia Norwood





 
Marcia's Dad, Jewell; Nephew Jeramy, Brothers Terry and Bret.  Copyright 1991 Marcia Norwood

 
Marcia's Parents:  Jewell and Natalie with their grandchildren and great-grandchildren:  Megan, Lacey, Taylor, Conner, Sarah ZK and Joshua.  Copyright 1999 Marcia Norwood.
 Thanks for stopping by!

Come back often, and invite a friend!

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking