Tomorrow will start day 7 of the garage sale fundraiser for Urban Arts. I'm pretty exhausted from setting up, tearing down, moving from drive way to drive way, and doing it all over again...but it has been worth it. We have raised nearly 1500.00 over 6 days for the camps! That will cover art supplies, t-shirts, lunches, and a little more!
I have to say though, that I have been able to do something the last few weekends that I rarely make time to do-people watch. What intriguing individuals. I remember one of my assignments in grad school was to people watch. I thought it was hilarious at the time. Once I started the assignment though, my mind was opened to the complexity of the individual. God created some crazy, funny people! It has been amusing, sad, enjoyable, and fun to meet the hundreds of people who have stopped by (or drove slowly by). I may be a little sad for my weekend sales to come to an end. Oh well, off to bigger and better things and the reason I am doing the garage sales in the first place!-Urban Arts Camps!:)
Friday, May 23, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
An Unknown Hero
As I was going through our family's library I came across an old envelope. In the envelope were aged, torn newspaper articles. As I tried to decipher the articles, I realized it was some of my family history. I was so proud as I read the obituary of my great-great grandfather on my father's side of the family that I thought I would share it. How blessed I am to have a family who came from Christian heritage.
"Mr. W. T. Stapler died at his home in this city at noon Friday of last week-March the 19th, 1926, following an illness of several weeks duration. It had been known for sometime that it was only a question of time until the Christian patriot would reach the end of the journey and enter a land where disease and suffering are unknown. He was a patient sufferer, and inasmuch as the inevitable could not be forestalled it was a comfort to the members of the family to see him cross the river on placid waters without a struggle and as peacefully as a babe asleep in its mothers arms. At his bedside stood the companion of his long and useful life who had been to him a companion in every sense of the word and also his children and grand children scattered here and there in different states, were near him to witness the transition from all that is mortal and earthly to a realm to immortality and heavenly atmosphere.
He first saw the light of day near the spot where he bid farewell to the world that was all bright and new to him, when near 74 years ago, he was born within a few miles of this place. All of these years he has lived and labored and while he traveled much here and there...(newspaper clipping torn here)...but one place that (...torn again)...him, and that was the community in which he was born and where he planned to die and be buried.
Fifty two years ago, he was united in marriage to Miss Harriett Elizabeth Burns, who survives him, and to the parents, God has given the following surviving children: Mrs. Emma Jackson of Miami Fla., Mr. Odell Stapler of Mobile, Ala., Mrs. Gussie Lowe (my great grandmother) , of Washington, Ga., Mr. Carl Stapler of Meridian Miss., and Miss Hallie Stapler, the youngest daughter and baby girl.
He has been a loyal member of the Presbyterian church and a devoted Christian practically all his life. For possibly fifty years he has been an elder in the Presbyterian church. During all these years he has gone in and out before the world and his brethrenments. No shadow has fallen across his pathway by reason of a fatal moral or religious blunder. And yet he was the soul of the highest quality of natural witticism. He loved the sunny side of life and lived it. It may be a difficult matter to find pleasure in writing of the death of any person, but if it is ever either possible or permissible, it would be in this instance. For: "How blest the righteous when he dies, When sinks a weary soul to rest." He possessed the happy faculty of making friends and holding them. In all probability he has never had what might be termed an enemy. Everybody loved "Tom" Stapler who knew him. He represented B. F. Avery & Son, manufacturers of implements for thirty five years, and the manager in a letter a few days ago paid a high compliment of Mr. Stapler, stating that of all their traveling salesmen no one was held in higher esteem than was Mr. Stapler. He paid exceptionally high tribute to his consistent and outstanding life as a Christian gentleman.
Well, there's nobody left in Commerce to take the place of Tom Stapler. His was an outstanding personality. We shall miss him, but we know where to find him."
The article went on to share the details of the funeral and burial.
"Mr. W. T. Stapler died at his home in this city at noon Friday of last week-March the 19th, 1926, following an illness of several weeks duration. It had been known for sometime that it was only a question of time until the Christian patriot would reach the end of the journey and enter a land where disease and suffering are unknown. He was a patient sufferer, and inasmuch as the inevitable could not be forestalled it was a comfort to the members of the family to see him cross the river on placid waters without a struggle and as peacefully as a babe asleep in its mothers arms. At his bedside stood the companion of his long and useful life who had been to him a companion in every sense of the word and also his children and grand children scattered here and there in different states, were near him to witness the transition from all that is mortal and earthly to a realm to immortality and heavenly atmosphere.
He first saw the light of day near the spot where he bid farewell to the world that was all bright and new to him, when near 74 years ago, he was born within a few miles of this place. All of these years he has lived and labored and while he traveled much here and there...(newspaper clipping torn here)...but one place that (...torn again)...him, and that was the community in which he was born and where he planned to die and be buried.
Fifty two years ago, he was united in marriage to Miss Harriett Elizabeth Burns, who survives him, and to the parents, God has given the following surviving children: Mrs. Emma Jackson of Miami Fla., Mr. Odell Stapler of Mobile, Ala., Mrs. Gussie Lowe (my great grandmother) , of Washington, Ga., Mr. Carl Stapler of Meridian Miss., and Miss Hallie Stapler, the youngest daughter and baby girl.
He has been a loyal member of the Presbyterian church and a devoted Christian practically all his life. For possibly fifty years he has been an elder in the Presbyterian church. During all these years he has gone in and out before the world and his brethrenments. No shadow has fallen across his pathway by reason of a fatal moral or religious blunder. And yet he was the soul of the highest quality of natural witticism. He loved the sunny side of life and lived it. It may be a difficult matter to find pleasure in writing of the death of any person, but if it is ever either possible or permissible, it would be in this instance. For: "How blest the righteous when he dies, When sinks a weary soul to rest." He possessed the happy faculty of making friends and holding them. In all probability he has never had what might be termed an enemy. Everybody loved "Tom" Stapler who knew him. He represented B. F. Avery & Son, manufacturers of implements for thirty five years, and the manager in a letter a few days ago paid a high compliment of Mr. Stapler, stating that of all their traveling salesmen no one was held in higher esteem than was Mr. Stapler. He paid exceptionally high tribute to his consistent and outstanding life as a Christian gentleman.
Well, there's nobody left in Commerce to take the place of Tom Stapler. His was an outstanding personality. We shall miss him, but we know where to find him."
The article went on to share the details of the funeral and burial.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
As the Ruin Falls
| All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you. I never had a selfless thought since I was born. I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through: I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn. Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek, I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin: I talk of love --a scholar's parrot may talk Greek-- But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin. Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack. I see the chasm. And everything you are was making My heart into a bridge by which I might get back From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking. For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains You give me are more precious than all other gains. CS Lewis |
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Sista Circle Class 7-PERFORMANCE
"My arm hurts." "Well, you can still get up there and sing." "My throat is really sore." (said in a raspy voice) "Well, you can just mouth the words." "I think I broke my toe." "Then I will help you up on the stage and hold your hand."
I heard these excuses for first 30 minutes while the girls were waiting to go on stage. They were nervous, as was I, but I new it would be a good experience for them. After a long wait, the girls ended the program with their reading of the Maya Angelou poem and singing a Kirk Franklin song. The poem went pretty well. The sound wasn't that great, due to the system, but the girls stuck with it. The song started off really well, then all of the sudden, they came in a measure early and wham...the words were off with the music. I do have to say that they continued to sing and had great attitudes all the way through. Even if the performance wasn't perfect, i'm happy the girls got up there in front of the audience and did a great job! Here are some pictures to enjoy from that night.
Laura, Eyvette and me after the performance.(Renee not pictured)
Sista 2 Sista Group with their paper plate awards.
Reading the poem.
I heard these excuses for first 30 minutes while the girls were waiting to go on stage. They were nervous, as was I, but I new it would be a good experience for them. After a long wait, the girls ended the program with their reading of the Maya Angelou poem and singing a Kirk Franklin song. The poem went pretty well. The sound wasn't that great, due to the system, but the girls stuck with it. The song started off really well, then all of the sudden, they came in a measure early and wham...the words were off with the music. I do have to say that they continued to sing and had great attitudes all the way through. Even if the performance wasn't perfect, i'm happy the girls got up there in front of the audience and did a great job! Here are some pictures to enjoy from that night.
Laura, Eyvette and me after the performance.(Renee not pictured)
Sista 2 Sista Group with their paper plate awards.
Reading the poem.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Sista Circle Class 6-Dress Rehearsal
I took a big breath, said a quick prayer and walked into the building. Chaos--the girls from my class were coming down the stairs from our classroom as Renee and I were going up. The teacher before us never showed up so the girls were "doin' their own thing"..(whatever that was). We had to round everyone up and go up three flights of stairs to our room. I said another prayer. I really needed to have a better night with the girls. This was our last night of class and rehearsal before next week's performance. Well, the Lord answered my prayers because the night went pretty well. The girls got down the song and we really worked hard on the poem. Attitudes were fairly good throughout the night. So, next week we will see how many of the girls will show up. I hope all of them, but some were threatening not to because of being scared or embarrassed. I know they will do a great job!
Saturday, May 03, 2008
No Such Thing as Little Miracles
As I was thinking back about how my day unfolded, I was thanking God for the little miracle He gave me. Then I stopped. I thought, who am I to call a miracle little? There is no such thing as a miracle being little. A miracle is one of the biggest signs that our God is still alive and well and answering our prayers! Even if I think my request is little.
Today was the first garage sale for Urban Arts. The weatherman was calling for rain all day. The day before had rain and the storms were suppose to continue throughout Saturday. We really needed this garage sale. So, I prayed all week and asked the Lord to hold the rains off. All day I continued to glance at the sky and thank the Lord for the clouds, sun, and wind. It wasn't until 2:58pm that we felt our first drops of rain.
You may be thinking, it's just rain. But as I sit here typing this entry tonight and the rain is pounding against my window, I am reminded that God gave me my miracle today and it wasn't a little miracle; it was a miracle!
Today was the first garage sale for Urban Arts. The weatherman was calling for rain all day. The day before had rain and the storms were suppose to continue throughout Saturday. We really needed this garage sale. So, I prayed all week and asked the Lord to hold the rains off. All day I continued to glance at the sky and thank the Lord for the clouds, sun, and wind. It wasn't until 2:58pm that we felt our first drops of rain.
You may be thinking, it's just rain. But as I sit here typing this entry tonight and the rain is pounding against my window, I am reminded that God gave me my miracle today and it wasn't a little miracle; it was a miracle!
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