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 ~*`GoddessPele's Aloha Palace of Dreams`*~

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~*`BLESSINGS OF FATHER'S DAY TO ALL FATHERS`*~




~*`BLESSINGS OF FATHER'S DAY TO ALL FATHERS`*~



My Dad was strong in his faith of God above
with a gentle heart when it came to love
He taught us the priority values of fair play
kneeling with us when it was time to pray



He was an electrician by trade of self course
supporting his large family at all cost
A gardener of vegetables was his hobby of love
sowing seeds gifted by our creator above



Sharing with neighbors was his greatest show
giving thanks to God for all seeds to grow
A man of tolerance was his goal throughout life
setting examples in conquering all strife



He strummed a guitar giving praise to God above
for blessings given him of a family to love
My Dad, oh how my heart misses him all year long
more so on Father's Day in memories of song!  




~*©*2012*~all rights reserved*
'GoddessPele'
a.k.a.~'MJB'~
...`Father's Day...17th of June 2012`...
`*Designed*`
by:`Janie/mjfb1954`



XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As A Special Father's Day Tribute,
I am sharing with all of you,
this very Valuable Video
followed by the written story of it
for those of you, who are not able to view Videos!
Enjoy! With Love Of God, Janie/MJ

To a Child, Love is Spelled T-I-M-E

'TO A CHILD~LOVE IS SPELLED `T-I-M-E!

In the faint light of the attic, an old man, tall and stooped,
bent his great frame and made his way to a stack of boxes
that sat near one of the little half-windows.

 Brushing aside a wisp of cobwebs, he tilted the top box
toward the light and began to carefully lift out one old
photograph album after another.

 Eyes once bright but now dim searched longingly for
the source that had drawn him here.

It began with the fond recollection of the love of his life,
long gone, and somewhere in these albums was a photo of her
he hoped to rediscover. Silent as a mouse, he patiently opened
the long buried treasures and soon was lost in a sea of memories.
Although his world had not stopped spinning when his wife left it,
the past was more alive in his heart than his present aloneness.

 Setting aside one of the dusty albums, he pulled from the box
what appeared to be a journal from his grown son's childhood.
He could not recall ever having seen it before, or that his son
 had ever kept a journal. Why did Elizabeth always save the
children's old junk? he wondered, shaking his white head.

 Opening the yellowed pages, he glanced over a short reading,
and his lips curved in an unconscious smile. Even his eyes
brightened as he read the words that spoke clear and sweet
to his soul. It was the voice of the little boy who had grown up
far too fast in this very house, and whose voice had grown fainter
and fainter over the years. In the utter silence of the attic,
the words of a guileless six-year-old worked their magic and
carried the old man back to a time almost totally forgotten.

 Entry after entry stirred a sentimental hunger in his heart like
the longing a gardener feels in the winter for the fragrance of
spring flowers. But it was accompanied by the painful memory that
his son's simple recollections of those days were far different
from his own. But how different?

Reminded that he had kept a daily journal of his business activities
over the years, he closed his son's journal and turned to leave,
having forgotten the cherished photo that originally triggered his
search. Hunched over to keep from bumping his head on the rafters,
the old man stepped to the wooden stairway and made his descent,
then headed down a carpeted stairway that led to the den.

Opening a glass cabinet door, he reached in and pulled out an old
business journal. Turning, he sat down at his desk and placed the two
journals beside each other. His was leather-bound and engraved neatly
with his name in gold, while his son's was tattered and the name
"Jimmy" had been nearly scuffed from its surface.
He ran a long skinny finger over the letters, as though he could
restore what had been worn away with time and use.

As he opened his journal, the old man's eyes fell upon an inscription
that stood out because it was so brief in comparison to other days.
In his own neat handwriting were these words:

"Wasted the whole day fishing with Jimmy. Didn't catch a thing."

With a deep sigh and a shaking hand, he took Jimmy's journal and found
the boy's entry for the same day, June 4. Large scrawling letters,
 pressed deeply into the paper, read:

"Went fishing with my Dad. Best day of my life."

~~~~~~

The story you just read is the introduction for
"To a Child, Love is Spelled T-I-M-E".
It was written by co-author Lance Wubbels,
a best-selling author for inspirational books,
from 'Simple Truths'

 ~~~~~~
Thanks for your time, hope you enjoyed this story of a Father/Son Love!
'HAPPY FATHERS'S DAY TO EVERYONE!
`May Blessings from God above enlighten you with Brotherly Love!
`Janie/mjfb1954`
a.k.a.`GoddessPele`~ goddesspele



*Re*Post for Father's Day:*©*2013*June*16*
~`♥`~
'Blessed Love To All Fathers!







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