from this very special place
that I call home.
Nancy Julien Kopp © 2000
kopp@networksplus.net Poetry is a wonderful outlet for the way we feel about places, people, or things that are happening in our lives. I like poetry because I love words and putting words together to paint a picture. You may have seen my poem, Granddaughter, on the Art and Poetry page. Stories I have been pleased to share with 2theheart readers are The Girls On The Bus, My Special Christmas Doll, Like Water From A Well, One of Life's Lessons, Grandma and The Tea Party, and Love On A Plate.
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Congratulations to another wonderful 2theheart "Make a Difference" award winner! Bread for the Journey's goal is to find quiet saints, and help them make their dreams happen. Visit this altrustic web site at:
www.breadforthejourney.org~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The Paper Dolls"
by Patsy Thomas-Houck
In 1947 Christian Dior introduced a line of clothing which caused a revolution in fashion. At the time, I was five years old and I wore hand-me-down clothes or dresses my mother made for me. In those post World War II days when designers were being relieved of the austerity imposed on fashion during the war years I was relieved of the simplicity of the clothes I wore through my exposure to paper dolls and my imagination. I spent many long summer days playing with paper dolls I cut from a book my mother bought for me at the F.W. Woolworth Five and Ten Cent Store. The dolls wore clothes designed by people with strange sounding names who lived in faraway places like France, Italy, and New York.
Though in reality I wore cotton dresses or denim overalls I imagined that I was dressed in the very latest fashion. And though, as was my custom, I sat on a creek bank and played, in my daydreams I traveled to the places the designers lived and did their work.
Tom Tierney, noted illustrator and fashion authority, researched and created a book entitled Great Fashion Designs of the Forties - Paper Dolls in Full Color. Published in 1987, the book contains 32 haute couture costumes. A few years ago while visiting Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Michigan, I came across the book in one of the museum's gift shops. When I opened its pages, I saw the paper dolls and the dresses I played with as a child. And, for a brief moment, I saw once again a creek bank where a little 5 year old girl sat and dreamed of wearing great fashions and traveling to faraway places.
Patsy Thomas-Houck copyright 2001
ahouck@mounet.com Patsy and her husband, Allen, live in Southwest Virginia. She writes about her memories at the urging of her husband. Her story, "The Quilt" was selected as one of the stories of the month.
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http://www.qksrv.net/click-404250-55516~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Letter Box:
2theheart,
What a wonderful object lesson for all of us, or at least those who watch doughnuts attach themselves to our hips even as the last crumb is wiped from our lips! I look longingly at the neighborhood pool, but dread the thought of walking over there with a garment over the swimsuit, as if anyone cares what I look like. That really is just MY problem. Maybe you gave me courage to do what I need to do. Thanks.
~GrannyJo
jodoofe@msn.comThanks Susan, you did it again.
You are the reason I started writing when I read your "Tatooed Stranger" story and your inspration has moved me again to place more of my stories to paper.
F.Y.I. One of the stories I wrote "Still Waters," will apear in the up coming "Chicken Soup for the Grieving Soul" due out this month. Thanks again, and I too vow to never let myself stand in my way again.
Sincerely,
~David Sims
sims-usa@juno.comSusan,
My feelings exactly and probably a million others! And thank goodness, my husband is just the same too.
~Robbie
nmize@mindspring.comBoy, can I relate to this story, Sooz! I hate how I look in a swim suit, but after all these years of wearing a suit with a skirt (ugh!) and looking like somebody's grandmother (I'm only 42!), I realized I
definitely do NOT have the worst-looking body out there, and I let myself go. Well, not that much. I still don't even dare LOOK at the bikinis, but I wore two different suits on vacation last month, neither of which had a skirt. And you know what, I didn't give my "bod" a second thought. I enjoyed my kiddies, and even got a teeny bit of a tan (which never happens). My husband tells me he loves me just how I am, too. I admit I'd love to hear him say I'm beautiful, but he's not the least bit mushy, so I don't guess I'll ever hear those words. But you know what? I know my kiddies love me just the way I am (even when I'm yelling), and that's good enough for me! Love ya!
~Kim Murray
Kim.Murray@potomachospital.comTHIS ONE IS PG-13 (but it's okay - they're married!) :-)
Great story, Susan!
We must all have memories of our swimming days. Mine goes back to when I was a skinny little kid and my brother who is 10 years older decided to teach me to swim. He said that there is only one way to learn and that is to toss me into the creek which he did. I almost drowned but finally made it back to the bank. It was years before I could get up nerve to go into the water again. Many years later I had my own pool and my beautiful wife, Roz, had never learned to swim but I wasn't about to give her my brother's lessons. Instead I bought a book on swimming. Shortly after, Roz and my 8 year old son, Mike were on a camping trip in a tent trailer. Roz was reading the book and asked, "Chuck, what is the
difference between the breast stroke and the crawl?" I couldn't let this pass me by so I said, "This is the breast stroke" as I reached out and touched her bust. My son, Mike, let out a snort and said, "I can hardly wait for the crawl"! Kids can really be helpful.
~Chuck Dishno
dishgov@mcn.netSusan,
Wow, yesterdays story could have been about a hundred women including me......I am so glad you finally dove in that pool. You made a splash for "womenkind".......lol
~Jane Ludwig
Ludferg@aol.com Susan Dear,
You are so funny! I love your story. Isn't it nice to know our husbands still find us sexy and beautiful? You are a true red headed beauty.
By the way, as the hubby's get older, their sight fails a little. I'll be 70 next month, and my sweet Willie still says I'm beautiful. I guess that love is blind.
I remember when I was 34, sooo many years ago, and we had just joined the local Golf & Country Club. They had just installed a swimming pool and I felt so self conscious sitting by the pool in my new swimsuit. I had gained a few pounds. At first I would sit on one of the pool chairs in a cover-up, sipping ice tea while I watched the kids swim. My youngest was only five years old then. It didn't take me long to decide pride was such a foolish thing, especially in 90 degree weather, so I joined the kids in the pool, along with a few other moms. It was great, even if I couldn't swim very well. So refreshing!
In the evenings when Willie went out to the pool with us, I had no problem. However...I wouldn't put on a swimsuit and go near the pool now if I was offered a million dollars to do it. Pride is everything when you are my age.
Love & Hugs,
~Pat Lowe
pawlowe@televar.comResponse to all the email regarding Anne Goodrich's "Homecoming" story:
Wow. Sooz. I was so amazed and touched by all the responses to my Homecoming story. I am so thankful if my story has brought even the smallest bit of hope to others who are also dealing with very difficult times in their lives.
My prayers are with all of those who wrote and who are facing their own "Cellar Dweller" types of challenges, and by all means, my Chickarina Sooz, you better 'fess up with the origins of our nickname for each other!
~Anne Goodrich
webmaster@ohangel.comOKAY, OKAY! I got tons of email today from y'all wanting to know why Anne & I call each other Chickarina. (or if you type too fast, Hickarina) One time Anne & I were talking online through Instant
Messaging and I meant to tell her we are soul sisters, but instead I typed SOUP SISTERS. After that (with many giggles), we would sign our emails to each other with a soup name - like: Chicken Noodle, Sooz. Or Tomato with rice, Anne. But it got to the point that we ran out of soup names, and started looking them up on Campbells.com and Progresso.com, and I actually found one called Chickarina soup! I loved it, so now we call each other Chickarina. (I even bought some and mailed it to her.) So there ya go. Weird, yes. It's a Chickarina thing! :-)
~Susan Fahncke
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Donate stuffed animals to a child in need! "Angels Remembered" is dedicated to bringing comfort to children in hospitals, shelters, and through the Red Cross. Help this wonderful organization by donating new 12-13" stuffed animals in the memory of your loved ones. 2TheHeart challenges you to send a stuffed animal and then write to tell us of your experience! We will have a special edition "Letter Box" in the near future featuring letters from those of you who took part in this challenge! Mailing your donations to:
Angels Remembered
Sharon Bryant
PO Box 208
Green Pond, Alabama 35074
Visit Angels remembered on the web at:
http://www.angelsremembered.homestead.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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