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| Jeanne's House of Angels Newsletter |
| Newsletter # 5 April 10, 2007 |
| Featured Angel: Art Polon |
| A little baby boy was born in New Jersey on March 18, 1941 he was given the name Arthur Albert Polon. He passed away suddenly in his sleep the day after Father's Day June 19, 2006 at the age of 65. He leaves behind a devastated family his loving wife of 42 years Pat, his precious children, Artie, Sharon & Sue a loving son-in-law Rick and his darling granddaughters Brittany & Shannon, a loving mother- in- law Alice.
My Dads ole saying "What goes around comes around". My Dad & Mom went to Atlantic City for a couple of days to stay over but this time they decided to bring my grandmother (my moms mom). They were all getting ready to walk the boardwalk on this sunny afternoon. As they were walking my Dad says Pat what kind of new deorderant did you buy me? My underarms are burning as he flapped his arms (that had to look funny) My mom said I did not bring you a new deorderant its your stetson stick, he said then why are my underarms burning they never did that before. All of a sudden my grandmother starts laughing. Dad says whats so funny? she says Arthur!! you must have used my arthritis stick cream! He said WHAT! they all laughed and continued on their walk my Dad says I am hungry so they all got a slice of pizza as they proceeded to walk the boardwalk pigeons flew over head. One pigeon wanted my Dads pizza it kept swooping down at him pecking at it. My dad was getting upset between his underarms burning and now the pigeon wanting his pizza he said he should have stayed in bed.The pigion had enough of the teasing so it decided to take a plop right on my Dads head what a mess.That was it my Dad had it, he went into the closest casino and cleaned up, but before he left he wanted to gamble so they stayed awhile low and behold did my Dad know he would hit a small jackpot over a 1,000 dollars he said where are those pigeons I will buy them a whole pizza pie. So as my mom, grandmother & the pigeons all had a good laugh on my Dad, he had the last laugh all the way to the bank. So as he said before 'What goes around comes around" Well it came around right into his wallet. We have so many fun stories about my Dad and we treasure all of them keeping them close to our hearts. He was a fun loving man with a heart of GOLD! |
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| Art Trivia Favorite color: blue Favorite food: eggplant, oatmeal, fish, apple pie & bananas Favorite actors: John Wayne, Jack Nicholson, Robert De Niro & Jackie Gleason Favorite Movie: One Flew Over the Cookoos Nest & The Honeymooners Favorite musician: Johnny Cash Favorite Hobbies: Atlantic City, the srcatch-offs (crosswords) |
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| " Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless you, the giver."
Barbara de Angelis |
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| SAND and STONE
TWO FRIENDS WERE WALKING THROUGH THE DESERT. DURING SOME POINT OF THE JOURNEY, THEY HAD AN ARGUMENT; AND ONE FRIEND SLAPPED THE OTHER ONE IN THE FACE. THE ONE WHO GOT SLAPPED WAS HURT, BUT WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING, WROTE IN THE SAND: TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE. THEY KEPT ON WALKING, UNTIL THEY FOUND AN OASIS, WHERE THEY DECIDED TO TAKE A BATH, THE ONE WHO HAD BEEN SLAPPED GOT STUCK IN THE MIRE AND STARTED DROWNING, BUT THE FRIEND SAVED HIM. AFTER HE RECOVERED FROM THE NEAR DROWNING, HE WROTE ON A STONE: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE ". THE FRIEND WHO HAD SLAPPED AND SAVED HIS BEST FRIEND ASKED HIM, "AFTER I HURT YOU, YOU WROTE IN THE SAND AND NOW, YOU WRITE ON A STONE, WHY?" THE FRIEND REPLIED "WHEN SOMEONE HURTS US WE SHOULD WRITE IT DOWN IN SAND, WHERE WINDS OF FORGIVENESS CAN ERASE IT AWAY. BUT, WHEN SOMEONE DOES SOMETHING GOOD FOR US, WE MUST ENGRAVE IT IN STONE WHERE NO WIND CAN EVER ERASE IT." LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE. THEY SAY IT TAKES A MINUTE TO FIND A SPECIAL PERSON, AN HOUR TO APPRECIATE THEM, A DAY TO LOVE THEM, BUT THEN AN ENTIRE LIFE TO FORGET THEM. (Thanks to KD Roberts who sent this to me) |
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| " People say think with your brain and not your heart. I say you would never be able to think with that brain if you didn't have that heart!"
Written in 2007 by Mayur Jethwa --- England |
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| Home is where the house is.
--Age 6 For centuries, people thought the moon was made of green cheese. Then the astronauts found that the moon is really a big hard rock. That's what happens to cheese when you leave it out. --Age 6 As you make your way through this hectic world of ours, set aside a few minutes each day. At the end of the year, you'll have a couple of days saved up. --Age 7 James was listening to a Bible story. His dad read: "The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city but his wife looked back and was turned to salt." Concerned, James asked: "What happened to the flea?" A neighbours drake wandered into our back garden today, and started stalking the three female ducks that are about 8 months old. Pinning one to the ground, and grabbing the feathers on the back of it's head with his beak, he began to do his thing. My 7 yr old looks up and says 'silly duck, when you play leapfrog you're supposed to jump over it' |
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| " Let me be a little kinder, let me be a little blinder to the faults of those around me."
Edgar A. Guest |
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| Links |
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| Alive Alone is an organization for the education and charitable purposes to benefit bereaved parents, |
| The Gift of Keith
information for suicide survivors |
| The Centering Corporation is a family owned and operated business that is dedicated to serving the needs of those healing from loss. |
| Tom Golden's Crisis, Grief & Healing website is one of the most comprehensive sites dealing with grief on the internet. |
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| Subject: Isaiah 65:24 "Before they call, I will answer". Written by a
doctor who worked in South Africa. One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator). We also had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates). "And it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles; they do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. "All right," I said, "put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm." The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died. During prayer time, one ten-year old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. "Please, God" she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon." While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, "And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?" As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say "Amen"? I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything, the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator! Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas that would make a batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the.....could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out - yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle. I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly too!" Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out a small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?" That parcel had been on the way for five whole months. Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "that afternoon." "Before they call, I will answer" (Isaiah 65:24). (thanks to Dianne White who sent this to me) |
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| " Become so wrapped up in something that you forget to be afraid."
Lady Bird Johnson |
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| Apple Pie 8 baking or 'pie' apples (Granny Smith and Macintosh work well) 1 cup sugar 1 t cinnamon 1 deep-dish vegan pie crust 3/4 cup flour 1/2 cup margarine METHOD Pre-heat the oven to 180C/350F. Peel and slice the apples and place in a large bowl. In a small bowl, mix 1/2 cup of the sugar and cinnamon. Add to the apples until they are coated, then put the apples in the pie crust. Mix the remaining 1/2 cup sugar, the flour and margarine until crumbly. Add a small amount of flour in necessary until small crumbs form. Sprinkle the crumbs over the pie, covering completely. Bake 40 minutes until slightly browned. |
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| This is the fifth edition of "Jeanne's House of Angels" newsletter. I would like to thank Sue for sharing her angel, her dad, Art Polon with us. If you would prefer not to receive a copy of the newsletter, please email me and I will remove you from the mailing list. The featured angel in our next newsletter edition will be Killian Harding. AnnieHoo49@twcny.rr.com |