Welcome to 2TheHeart!
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Congratulations to our newest Writer of the Month, Pamela Blaine! Pamela wrote this month's two-part series "I'll Be Seeing You", as well as several memorable stories found in our archives. Pamela is also a talented poet and her poetry is featured on our Art & Poetry pages! Send your congratulations to this wonderful lady at pamyblaine@aol.com
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Wow! Check out the amazing flash animated Holiday cards on Ohangel.com! Designer Anne Goodrich has created two incredible ecards that you can send for free! Visit www.ohangel.com to send one now! (Look in the left-hand column under Flash Cards)
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Another beautiful memory from Amanda Krug, who shared with us the unforgettable "Vanessa's Legacy".
"An Unfinished Memory"
by Amanda Krug
Early one beautiful Summer morning in 1963, my sisters, my brother and I set out on an adventure beyond the safe gates of our grandparents'farm in Yorktown, Indiana. Hand-in-hand we left the
confines of their yard, our tow-colored hair glistening as we danced and skipped in the warm sunlight. A gentle breeze tugged playfully at our sleeveless, cotton nightgowns and Bill's short pajamas. The cool, bumpy pavement of the rarely travelled county road tickled our small, bare feet. With only about six years difference between my oldest sister, Vanessa, and me, the baby, I imagine the five of us resembled something of a moving set of stair steps as we made our way toward our intended destination.
About a half mile south of Grandma and Pop's stood an old, one room country church. Its sturdy stone foundation supported thick, red brick walls with colorful stained glass windows and double wooden doors at its threshold. The quaint church seemed to humbly welcome us each time we visited, as it must have done for countless others who traveled that direction over the course of a hundred years. Behind the little church, a narrow creek had carved its path through the abundant acreage of woods and farmland surrounding the area. And it was that creek and the bridge by the church that beckoned us.
Gnarled, aging black walnut trees graced the banks of the nameless creek, their huge trunks and naked, winding roots giving character to the muddy landscape. Large branches, heavy with leaves, hung over the dancing water as if to embrace an old friend, while the robins chirped their gleeful tune in its honor. The clear, cool water in the creek bed moved effortlessly downstream, occasionally altering its flow to accommodate large rocks and loose twigs that interrupted its path. A couple of common toads leaped about while a box turtle entertained us by playing peek-a-boo at the water's surface.
Gathering a few stray pebbles from the side of the road, we each took turns plunking them into the creek, taking time to savor the ripples left behind. None of us spoke much during our journey; none of us dared to go beyond the safety of the bridge. There was no anxiety nor any particular excitement, just the fluid movement of five happy siblings who had connected as one on this magical summer morning.
The feeling of timelessness was interrupted by a familiar humming sound coming from up the road. It was the Dad in our old Chevy. How did he know where to find us? When the car came to a stop, I remember joyfully running to greet him as fast as my chubby, 2 year old legs could carry me, excited to have him share a part of our grand adventure!
I don't recall what happened after we climbed into the car and returned to the house, or even if we were ever punished for leaving. I hope never to find out for sure.
Some memories, like this one, are simply better left unfinished.
Amanda Krug
Fishers, Indiana
krug_family@iquest.net
This is my most treasured memory of childhood and is lovingly dedicated to my siblings: Bill, Gina, Larietha, and Vanessa (who passed away at the tender age of 22). I hope my 4 children have moments like this to remember with each other when they get older!
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The Letter Box:
2TheHeart,
Oh, my.....this story reminded me so much of my father, when we kids were growing up. Every where we went, he talked to people. It always amazed me that he knew so many strangers. I grew up seeing that, and am glad to say that I try to be like that. So many times, my father would greet a person, and make a new friend. I will always remember the time that he invited a man into our home one Saturday morning. The man just knocked on the door when he saw our light on, saying he had ridden the train into town. Since we lived just across the street and half a block from the traintracks, I could see how it could happen. I don't know if my father ever thought any differently than what the man told us. I just know that the man entered our home a stranger, left as a friend, and enjoyed the homemade cinnamon rolls my Mom had put out for our breakfast.
~Lucy
2TheHeart,
I just loved the Girls on the Bus story. It reminded me so much of my mother that it brought tears to my eyes. She always taught us that one person can make a difference, and even though she was disabled, it never stopped her from passing on goodness and being a shining example! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this story!
~Cheryl Thompson
Dearest 2TheHeart,
The story "The Girls on the Bus", was wonderful! You always run the best stories, but this one struck a chord in me. My grandmother was so much like that and she sure made an impact in the world. She passed last Christmas and the world isn't the same without her. Your story brought her back in a way to me. Thank you!
~Phyllis G.
Dear 2TheHeart,
I just wanted to tell you that I enjoy your daily thoughts as much as the stories! Sometimes one will stick with me and motivate me throughout the day. Your quotes are meaningful and inspiring. Thank you for this wonderful added touch.
~Willa, OH
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