She's out grown both of them now but they woked. She didn't pick on me anymore and my bald baby looked cute!Auntie Em
Monday, June 2, 2008
Fashion wear
A lady kept bugging me that my daughter wasn't wearing a hat...
She's out grown both of them now but they woked. She didn't pick on me anymore and my bald baby looked cute!
Auntie Em
She's out grown both of them now but they woked. She didn't pick on me anymore and my bald baby looked cute!Auntie Em
The Woodcutter's Son
Once upon a time, a long time ago, high up on a mountainside stood one woodcutter's cottage. Wherein lived the woodcutter and his tender hearted wife. Every morning the woodcutter arose and went out onto the mountainside to find kindling enough to sell for bread at the market. For the old man was weary of limb and could no more swing the axe were by his living was made. Alas his marriage, though wonderful in every way, had never produced a son or daughter to care for the couple in their last presuse years.
It happened one morning before the dew took its flight, that the bent figure happened upon a slumbering sprite. She lay the most perfect being he had ever beheld, asleep on a rock not a stones throw from the river. Now in those days twas known that should you catch a fiery creature you should be granted any wish your heart may desire. So stealthily he stole closer to the limp figure and slipped her into his burlap sack. Swift as Old Man Winter's breath the ancient thief made his way back up the well worn path. The joy of his capture giving life to his limbs. At last he entered his house and swiftly closed the door.
The plump woman who kept his home and his heart, turned in surprise at the appearance of her previously absent husband.
"My dear you are home early!" she said in delight. "But where is the bread for our dinner?" added sorrowfully.
Her husband did not answer, but grabbed her hands and lead her in a dance about the tiny room. "My presuse pumpkin, tonight we shall dine in a hall twenty times this size! And we shall sup on a feast, the size of which you can not imagine!"
Laughing the wife pulled herself free and asked for an explanation of this rash behavior. Where upon the dancing hands produced the burlap sack and he described with relish the miniature lady there in. Then as his wife stretched out her hands, he pridefully turned over his treasure. Reverently the wrinkled fingers opened the mouth of the sack and watched as the tiny prisoner fled.
Stunned the old man fell into his seat and sat shocked for an undetermined length of time, while his wife proceeded to make their meager super. When at last his senses returned, he sighed very grievously and pleaded to know what had possessed his 'usually sensible wife' that she would throw away their perfect chance for happiness. The wise woman standing at her pot did not face the distraught man but answered with a calm and cheerful voice. "Are we to gain our happiness in the wake of another's sorrow?" The old man knew his wife's words were true and meekly ate his meal.
That night the thwarted old man slept soundly as his partner cried silently for her own wish, a child, would not be granted.
Upon the morn as the world blinked at the approaching dawn, the woodcutter ventured forth sadly to find kindling to sell at the market. No sooner had he closed the door and the woman retrieved her broom than the tiny sprite appeared in the middle of the table. "My gracious kind lady." she said with an elegant bow. "I am forever in your debt. You have but to speak your wish and I will grant it yet." Taking not a moments to consider the woman pleaded for a son, a strong and healthy son. But no sooner had she wished it than the sprite had vanished.
For many days the woman kept this to herself, wondering if in her longing she had imagined it. Then as the months wore on she began to change in a most singular way. Yes at last she was with child. Immediately she and her husband went out to celebrate! The next day when all alone, the happy woman moved slowly to a spot in the woods which was hers alone.
"If you are there..." she began timidly. "Could you tell her thank you? Yes, please tell her THANK YOU." and then she went back to her tiny home.
When at last the time came for the child to be born, the old woman found her years not up to the challenge. She fought good and hard and in the end gave her life for her son's. But before her last breath was taken she held the child in her arms and bathed it is her tears. "My son," she said. "I knew you would be as beautiful as the Sprite who gave you to me. My son." Smiling she slipped into the next realm to await her loved ones there.
The husband, who had heard her last words, was angered by her lose. His first and only love, the truest friend and straightest guide for which a man could ask. He understood now how the child had been conceived. Twas by fiery magic, which had stole his wife away as punishment for his trick. When all had gone away leaving him alone with the babe, his anger boiled up and he snatched the distraught figure from its nest and quickly fled to the knoll where first he found the magic lady. He hollered for her to appear but nothing happened. He told her of the trouble she had caused him and cursed her for the punishment she had doled out. He placed the babe on the stone. "The fiery child is your concern!" he bellowed good and loud. "I'll have no more to do with your monstrous kind!" and with that he walked away.
Before he got five steps he heard his wife's dear voice. "My son!" and knew he had done wrong. But when he turned he saw no child only a barren stone. Realizing what he had done he fell upon his knees begging for mercy and forgiveness. After many hours of fruitless pleading the man returned home to the empty bassinet.
Only as he looked inside he saw his dear son smiling up at him, the dear boy with the woodcutter's eyes and his sweet wife's face. The Sprite had returned him and the final heart's desire was granted.
mE
It happened one morning before the dew took its flight, that the bent figure happened upon a slumbering sprite. She lay the most perfect being he had ever beheld, asleep on a rock not a stones throw from the river. Now in those days twas known that should you catch a fiery creature you should be granted any wish your heart may desire. So stealthily he stole closer to the limp figure and slipped her into his burlap sack. Swift as Old Man Winter's breath the ancient thief made his way back up the well worn path. The joy of his capture giving life to his limbs. At last he entered his house and swiftly closed the door.
The plump woman who kept his home and his heart, turned in surprise at the appearance of her previously absent husband.
"My dear you are home early!" she said in delight. "But where is the bread for our dinner?" added sorrowfully.
Her husband did not answer, but grabbed her hands and lead her in a dance about the tiny room. "My presuse pumpkin, tonight we shall dine in a hall twenty times this size! And we shall sup on a feast, the size of which you can not imagine!"
Laughing the wife pulled herself free and asked for an explanation of this rash behavior. Where upon the dancing hands produced the burlap sack and he described with relish the miniature lady there in. Then as his wife stretched out her hands, he pridefully turned over his treasure. Reverently the wrinkled fingers opened the mouth of the sack and watched as the tiny prisoner fled.
Stunned the old man fell into his seat and sat shocked for an undetermined length of time, while his wife proceeded to make their meager super. When at last his senses returned, he sighed very grievously and pleaded to know what had possessed his 'usually sensible wife' that she would throw away their perfect chance for happiness. The wise woman standing at her pot did not face the distraught man but answered with a calm and cheerful voice. "Are we to gain our happiness in the wake of another's sorrow?" The old man knew his wife's words were true and meekly ate his meal.
That night the thwarted old man slept soundly as his partner cried silently for her own wish, a child, would not be granted.
Upon the morn as the world blinked at the approaching dawn, the woodcutter ventured forth sadly to find kindling to sell at the market. No sooner had he closed the door and the woman retrieved her broom than the tiny sprite appeared in the middle of the table. "My gracious kind lady." she said with an elegant bow. "I am forever in your debt. You have but to speak your wish and I will grant it yet." Taking not a moments to consider the woman pleaded for a son, a strong and healthy son. But no sooner had she wished it than the sprite had vanished.
For many days the woman kept this to herself, wondering if in her longing she had imagined it. Then as the months wore on she began to change in a most singular way. Yes at last she was with child. Immediately she and her husband went out to celebrate! The next day when all alone, the happy woman moved slowly to a spot in the woods which was hers alone.
"If you are there..." she began timidly. "Could you tell her thank you? Yes, please tell her THANK YOU." and then she went back to her tiny home.
When at last the time came for the child to be born, the old woman found her years not up to the challenge. She fought good and hard and in the end gave her life for her son's. But before her last breath was taken she held the child in her arms and bathed it is her tears. "My son," she said. "I knew you would be as beautiful as the Sprite who gave you to me. My son." Smiling she slipped into the next realm to await her loved ones there.
The husband, who had heard her last words, was angered by her lose. His first and only love, the truest friend and straightest guide for which a man could ask. He understood now how the child had been conceived. Twas by fiery magic, which had stole his wife away as punishment for his trick. When all had gone away leaving him alone with the babe, his anger boiled up and he snatched the distraught figure from its nest and quickly fled to the knoll where first he found the magic lady. He hollered for her to appear but nothing happened. He told her of the trouble she had caused him and cursed her for the punishment she had doled out. He placed the babe on the stone. "The fiery child is your concern!" he bellowed good and loud. "I'll have no more to do with your monstrous kind!" and with that he walked away.
Before he got five steps he heard his wife's dear voice. "My son!" and knew he had done wrong. But when he turned he saw no child only a barren stone. Realizing what he had done he fell upon his knees begging for mercy and forgiveness. After many hours of fruitless pleading the man returned home to the empty bassinet.
Only as he looked inside he saw his dear son smiling up at him, the dear boy with the woodcutter's eyes and his sweet wife's face. The Sprite had returned him and the final heart's desire was granted.
mE
Changing Seasons
Falling leaves
Never drop
When the day is still
You can hear
It as it comes
Along the trees strong wall.
Change does not occur
Without a warning first
Even if it's just the need
To love the 'Right now World'.
mE
Never drop
When the day is still
You can hear
It as it comes
Along the trees strong wall.
Change does not occur
Without a warning first
Even if it's just the need
To love the 'Right now World'.
mE
Where I'm headed
Dreaming of things to come,
I missed the things that were
Wishing for what never could be,
I never saw the things that were.
Wanting always,
Giving never,
Got me
No where.
mE
I missed the things that were
Wishing for what never could be,
I never saw the things that were.
Wanting always,
Giving never,
Got me
No where.
mE
The Mountain
Oh they forgot to tell you. The straight and narrow path is an up hill climb, made of stepping stones and stumbling blocks.
Why else do you think there's a rail?
Oh sure there's a down hill road. It's rather broad and smooth, or at least it seems that way
to those who fly down it.
But it leads to a forest of nothingness. Eventually you'll find the fire and you'll be burned
Oh sure there's a down hill road. It's rather broad and smooth, or at least it seems that way
to those who fly down it.
But it leads to a forest of nothingness. Eventually you'll find the fire and you'll be burned
Of course, you'll get burned if you go up too. Only it will be by the Son, and it will be wonderful.
It will give you a healthy, heavenly glow.
The wind will burn too, but it will make you clean.
And when you get to the top you will be as Beautiful as all the things around you.
And you will know JOY!
It will give you a healthy, heavenly glow.
The wind will burn too, but it will make you clean.
And when you get to the top you will be as Beautiful as all the things around you.
And you will know JOY!
Anonymous
How to Submit
Welcome to The Bushlless Candle.
This is a blog made up of uplifting talents of anyone who wants to submit them. We accept poems, short stories, articles, pictures of visual talents, and anything else you can figure out how to send us. This blog is about "Letting your light so shine".
How you do this is by emailing me you submission at bushellesscandle@gmail.com . I do check for the appropriateness of the content. However, I am not an editor, just a compiler. If there are gramatic errors or spelling errors, I will probably not catch them. If you have any special instructions as to how you would like it to be presented (ie Name, appearance, etc.) please include them in your email.
We look forward to your contribution!
This is a blog made up of uplifting talents of anyone who wants to submit them. We accept poems, short stories, articles, pictures of visual talents, and anything else you can figure out how to send us. This blog is about "Letting your light so shine".
How you do this is by emailing me you submission at bushellesscandle@gmail.com . I do check for the appropriateness of the content. However, I am not an editor, just a compiler. If there are gramatic errors or spelling errors, I will probably not catch them. If you have any special instructions as to how you would like it to be presented (ie Name, appearance, etc.) please include them in your email.
We look forward to your contribution!
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