The Storyteller | Mary Vee

We all have some connection to the affects of hurricane Sandy.  My daughter attends college in the area. She tried to escape, but had to turn back because of dangerous roads.  Fortunately, she bought fresh water, filled her gas tank, charged up her computer and cell phone and  snapped glow sticks for light. She managed to take a photo for me during a flicker of power.  .  My daughter dealing with hurricane  Sandy in her apartment 3 days so far. Like you, I turned on the radio/TV/Internet to check on continued updates. We saw huge trees fallen across roadways, transformers pop sending lightning flashes across the sky, water surges, and damaged buildings.  Seeing these updates helped me understand the hardship of those living there and it reminded me to pray for them. Friends facebooked and emailed each other asking prayer for their loved ones. My prayer list grew. Like the results of the tsunami which devastated Japan in 2011, physical damages to structures can be

Has anyone played a joke on you so well, had they not told you the truth you might still be fooled? No? What if an announcement went viral over Twitter or Facebook and no one detected the farce. Or if someone tried to call attention to the deception, but those convinced of the announcement would not believe them? No? Well, over a million radio listeners in New Jersey, Chicago, and around the nation did.  Traffic jams blocked city streets with residents attempting to escape cities. No one knew where they were going, they simply had to leave. Get away. Those not in vehicles ran to police officers pleading for gas masks to save them from the poisonous gas on its way to the city. Phone lines to the electric companies jammed with requests to have power shut off.  A report from a church in Indianapolis states a woman ran into the sanctuary, raised her hands and screamed, "Flee for your lives. New York City has been destroyed. The end of the world is here. Prepare to die.&q

Angie Breidenbach, Mary Vee, & Susan Hill. Montanan Gals I met Angie at a Montana ACFW meeting held in the beautiful Rocky Mountains. She is a sweet friend who is willing to help. A piece of trivia for you: Angie was Mrs. Montana.  I will be moving this weekend, so no book drawing this time. I still would love to have you become a follower, though...pah leeze? See the upper right corner, below the About Me section. I asked Angie to share something about her writing journey. So, Angie, tell us... Often I Couldn't Figure Out Who I Was I am a communicator, I talk a lot, write a lot, and connect. There's irony in that statement because though we have natural talents and innate personalities, we still must learn the skills of how to use those talents to become who we are meant to be. Coming from a home with a mentally ill mom, confusion reigned. Often I couldn't figure out who I was or what I was supposed to be. It seemed like the rest of the wo

One of the cooks who shipped off to war from Fort Riley, Kansas had a cold.  No one thought much of this new recruit's sniffles.  After landing with his unit in Europe, his symptoms flamed into a severe cold. He finished serving dinner one evening, cleaned up and chose to stop by the infirmary to let the doc take a look. "We'll need to isolate you," the doctor said. "You have something more than a cold. Not sure what, yet." The cook  developed a deep cough, one that wouldn't stop, and his skin turned blue. His symptoms grew worse every minute. An hour later some of his buddies joined him. They looked terribly sick. The cook didn't have the strength to speak with them, but he wondered if he looked as bad as they did.  After five weeks, the cook's "cold" spread to 1,127 soldiers in his unit, forty-six of which died.  Back in the United States, the cold had spread to other forts preparing to send recruits to Europe for service in

The winner of last Friday's book give away is...  please scroll to the bottom of the post. I had a post done for today. At the last minute I exercised my female rights to change my mind. Today is a day for ramblings. Life struggles have hit a peak for many of my friends, and me as well. It makes me sad.  We are moving but we don't have a home, yet. My husband is working several states away and the house is quiet. Not even Pandora or a rental movie cuts through the quiet or the thick dark at night and the early morning.   There is a limit how much we are allowed to put on the moving truck which will come this Thursday or Friday, or Saturday, who knows. Memories are being given away and thrown away to lighten the load. I swiped a tear and told myself to buck up, they're only things.  But these things represent thirty plus years of wonderful events.  Before the moved was scheduled, I walked through my house and saw them, even those tucked inside a box. I didn&

Today I welcome the kindest, giving, fantastic writing teacher, and author friend:  Michelle Lim .   Enter to win a copy of Melanie Dobson's book  The Black Cloister , see below. I met Michelle through My Book Therapy. She is a regular instructor for the Monday night chats. I couldn't wait to meet this wonderful lady in person at the conference. She manned the My Book Therapy booth, reaching out to writers to encourage them. At the MBT Western Theme Pizza party she wore her duds and had fun, even took a pic with me. She is a cheerleader, a supporter, an encourager, and someone who knows how to make you smile. I asked Michelle to share her writing journey. Here is her answer: Childhood Stories If you’ve ever lived in a small town, you might understand how I began to love stories. Small town folk have to have an active imagination if they are going to stay busy. As a pastor’s daughter, I spent a lot of my years in small towns. I sa

courtesy Library of Congress courtesy of Billy Graham Archives Teddy Roosevelt  and Jim Elliott experienced similar situations resulting in total different outcomes. What could these two men have in common? What happened: October, 1912, Teddy Roosevelt teetered in the arms of his staff outside a Milwaukee hotel, ready to give a campaign speech. An unemployed saloonkeeper shot Mr. Roosevelt in the chest only moments before.  January, 1956 Jim Elliot stood with four other men on a beach near the Waodani Indians village in Equador ready to share their faith in Jesus Christ. Jim Ellion, Ed McCully, Roger Youderian, Pete Flemming, and Nate Saint were mortally wounded by the Waodani. What happened next: In most stories this would be the end but not for these two men. Teddy Roosevelt approached his audience and opened his speech with different words than he planned: "Friends, I shall ask you to be as quiet as possible. I don't know if you fully understan

The winner of yesterday's drawing for Borders of the Heart is..scroll to end of this post . Hurricane Hazel surprised many people on October 15, 1954. She sped west across the Atlantic, slamming into Grenada, fueled up and with new energy threw her winds at Jamaica, Haiti, and Puerto Rico destroying crops and lives. This wayward hurricane made a sharp turn up the eastern coast of the United States, stopping off at the Carolinas and Virginia before skipping up to Ontario. Her untamed winds hurt many people both directly and indirectly. With today's technology, we receive warnings on our cell phones. My daughter, who lives in a storm area told me her cell phone company sent her an alert to get to higher ground due to floods. Sometimes unusual circumstances prevent an escape or a homestead is severely damaged/destroyed. I've never experienced a hurricane in any way. Quite truthfully I would not be able to include the situation in a book because I wouldn't know

Today I welcome my adventurous, inspirational friend:  Cristóbal .   Enter to win a copy of Chris Fabry's book Borders of the Heart , see below. Library of Congress Photo Library I first met  Cristóbal in a text book while in school. I must admit our friendship tends to renew only each October. He has a very busy schedule. I don't mind, at least he squeezed in a moment with all of us today.  I asked  Cristóbal to share that day, October 12th in 1492.  After All These Years First, let me thank Mary Vee for inviting me today. From the first moment I received her request, I counted the days remaining to be with all who visit during my stay. I look forward to your comments below and will have Mary record my responses. Now, as asked, I will tell you about that day, October 12th, 1492. I remember it as though it happened today. The sea air flowed through my nostrils and whipped the flag raised high above my head.

From the Library of Congress Online Library On October 11 1776, Brigadier General Benedict Arnold fought as a brave, American hero against the British. Although the mighty British fleet had defeated fifteen American ships in this battle, Benedict Arnold made them work for their victory. More than two long days of battle at sea dragged by, allowing American forces time to set up ground forces on New York shores.  A year before Benedict met this same British captain in another battle. Benedict had been wounded but went on to fight. His career had been glowing with patriot heroism.  He felt might proud of himself and although he received pats on the back and other forms of kudos, it wasn't enough. The commander over him took the reward money and the honor which belonged to him. He was a hero. He had great battle strategies. He executed the plans with fortitude and bravery. He certainly deserved much more...much more than what had been given. Greed and anger grew in his h