Poem written by Gerogie's brother (at the
time he was 13 years old and trying to deal with his
brother's illness and possible loss of his brother)
"The Paintbox of Life"
When we are born the
big joker in the sky hands us each a little tin
paintbox. Enclosed are a couple of brushes and
paint, red, yellow, blue, the primary colors, and
with this we are supposed to go through life painting
pretty pictures. Example, loving, marrying,
teaching, inventing, etc.. But sometimes these
little tin boxes aren't cracked up to be what they
should be, maybe a brush is twisted or snarled or
some of the primary colors are dried up, or even
sometimes the boxes are so dented you can't even get
the lid open! But still everyone's after you from
the cradle to the grave clucking and scolding, if you
don't please them by painting pretty pictures.
Georgie's grandmother wrote this (at age 92)
"Winter"
Pure white snow falling in silence,
Trees tall ~ bare ~ standing erect, Roof tops
shouldering their heavy load; Spring flowers sleeping
under their white blankets, Now and then a shout from
children playing in the soft cotton snow, In the blue
of the night snow drops crystal on the window panes;
Stars blinking brightly in the sky, Your whisper and
your breath filling the air like smoke, Everything in
silence, Like the whisper of God.
Dorothy M.
Stevenson
I met a boy online today. Upon a web page was
displayed, How sweet and caring this boy was. His
name is Georgie. You can feel his love, God has taken
him up above, He is singing with the angels In Gods
paradise.
Thank you Georgie, You have touched my life
Cherilayne
You have shown me love, Through good times and
bad. You believed in me when no one else had. Your
the biggest support system. When it comes to dreams
you see a potential, no matter how untangible it
seems. What you do for the children in this would,
goes far beyond recognition. Your eyes gleam when you
talk about them. Their hope and joy is your ambition.
No matter what may lay in your past you have found
God and touched him at last. If i were an angel i
would grant you both wings, Because i know of no one
else who has accomplished so many wonderful things.
Last and finally, I would just like to say to the
most caring people i know, Happy Grandparents Day.
Greg Stevenson
He went to live with Jesus last night, In a kingdom
that's such a beautiful sight.
He welcomed him with open arms, He said, here you are
free from all harms.
My child I died for you on calvary, So you could walk
these streets with me.
I have watched as in your faith you've grown, And I
was pleased with the love for me you've shown.
You carried my word to a lost and dying world, My
child you resisted the daggers Satan hurled.
Even when you were facing death, My child you kept my
word with your dying breath.
For this you entered into Heaven's Gate, Never again
to deal with Satan's lies full of hate.
He looked into his Savior's eyes and saw, The tears
of love begin to fall.
He had taken away his pain of the past, He said, my
child here your happiness will forever last. ~
Written By SouthernHeart ~ God Bless! Love and
Prayer, Anita
'Twas the night before Christmas. All
through the abode only one creature was stirring. She
was cleaning the commode. The children were sleeping,
all snug in their beds, while dreams of Pokemon
entertained their sweet heads. The dad was snoring in
front of the TV, a half-constructed bicycle still on
his knee. So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves
clatter, which made her exclaim, "Now what's the
matter?" With toilet-bowl bush still clutched in her
hand, she decended the stairs, and saw an old man. He
was covered with soot, which fell when he shrugged.
"Oh great!" muttered mom, "Now i have to clean the
rug." "Ho-Ho-Ho!" cried Santa, "I'm glad you're
awake. Your gift was especially difficult to make."
"Thanks, Santa, but all i want is some time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "I've made you a clone." "A
clone?" she responded, "What good is that? Run along,
Santa. I've no time for chit-chat." It was the
mother's twin -- Same hair, same eyes, same double
chin. "She'll cook, she'll dust, she'll mop every
mess. You'll relax, take it easy, watch 'The Young
and the Restless." "Fantastic!" Mom cheered. "My
dream has come true! I'll shop, i'll read, i'll sleep
the night through!" In the room up above the youngest
did fret. "Mommy? I'm scared. Besides that, i'm wet."
The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart." "Hey,"
the mom smiled, "She knows her part." The clone
changed the small one, and hummed a sweet tune, as
she bundled the child, in a blanket cocoon. "You're
the best mommy ever. I really love you." The clone
smiled and sighed, "And i love you too." The mom
frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal. That's my
child's love that she's trying to steal." With a sly
knowing smile, old Santa then said, "Well, it's
perfectly clear, that only one mother is needed
'round here." The mom kissed the child, and patted
her head. "Thank you, dear Santa, for clearing my
head. I sometimes forget it won't be very long, when
they'll be too old for my cradle-song." The clock on
the mantle then started to chime. Santa said to the
clone, "It works every time." With the clone by his
side, Santa said, "Good night, Merry Christmas, Mom.
You'll be alright."
