----- Original Message ----- From: joseph mazzella To: cynthia groopman Sent: Monday, February 08, 2010 10:55 AM Subject: FW: Shine On * Dad's Desk
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Shine On * Dad's Desk Date: Mon, 8 Feb 2010 12:59:47 +0530 Prose'n'Poems 06-Feb-10 ± __________________________________________________________________ ± Welcome to Prose'n'Poems. Start your day with the Thought Of The Day and enjoy the poems and prose from various writers. The content is not meant to offend anyone. If any of the material is Copyright, please inform me and I shall give proper credit or remove it from the site. Please read the copyright information at the bottom. Hershy õõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõ Thought Of The Day No man can produce great things who is not thoroughly sincere in dealing with himself. Lowell õõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõ Photo for the day: Welding shop http://hershy.smugmug.com/Photography/Daily-Photos-2009/6972999_iVPCh#695486025_nHBqS-A-LB Do click on the link and have a look. Your comments and star rating are most welcome! They also help getting it selected for top 1000 pictures! Smugmug has changed the way of viewing the pics - when the pic opens click on SHOW DETAILS at the top to add your comment. In case you feel too lazy to add a comment, click on the green thumbs-up icon that appears when you pass the mouse on the upper right corner of picture. õõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõ Shine On Disappointment grabs hold of your tender heart. Don't allow it to hang on too long. You weren't born to be sad or born to blue. You were born to ever shine on. Loneliness drops you in a deep, empty hole. Don't forget there's a place you belong. You weren't born in darkness or born to be lost. You were born to ever shine on. Mistakes and false steps, shatter your confidence. Don't believe that you'll always be wrong. You weren't born defeated or born to stay down. You were born to ever shine on. You're a symphony of light, a grand design. Don't transgress to a life without song. You were born to a Promise, born to love. You were born to ever shine on. © 2001 Terri McPherson Windsor, Ontario, Canada [email protected] õõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõ Share your poems, prose, thought of the day with thousands of people. Send them to [email protected] õõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõõ Dad's Desk Cynthia Groopman Years ago when I was a child, I was fascinated at dad's big desk which at that time was called a secretary. I contained a bookcase on top with doors enclosed in glass, a writing desk that opened and three big drawers on the bottom. Dad would sit at this big desk and do his important dad's work, as I would call it. I would marvel at the beautiful mahogany wood and the big drawers full of folders. I would be awe struck with the writing desk, that just opened from the top and would just sit and look at dad with smiles and awe. To me, dad was my hero, and the smartest dad and person in the world. The desk secretary had many books in the top bookcase which fascinated me. Sometimes when dad and mom were in their room, and the secretary was in our living room, my twin and I would look at the bookcase and in the big drawer with all of the secret files inside. I would be on the lookout and watch and hear footsteps from dad's and mom's room. When our painting began in 1961 and we were just thirteen years old, the secretary desk was placed in our dad's and mom's room. This time it was difficult for me to sit and marvel at dad doing dad's important things since I did not often enter that big master bedroom unless invited. I respected my dad and mom and their privacy. Time passed. The secretary desk was placed in my bedroom. It was a joy and an honor but dad no longer did his dad important tasksat that desk since he would not bring work home. I felt as though that desk would bring me luck and be a special remembrance for me. I often did my homework at that desk when I was in college and found out that I scored high on exams ad assignments. In 1988 when I lost my eyesight and enrolled into the Hadley school for the Blind to take correspondence courses and to learn Braille, it was dad's secretary desk that would provide me with stability and comfort. I would do my assignments at that desk and completed 63 courses and in 1999 was their student of the year. Again something special in that desk was working for me and brought me luck. I would touch the desk fondly every night from 1999 to 2008 and all of the time I would receive a call or letter that I was going to get an award. Dad had passed away in 1996 so that desk had his blessing, his spirit and all of the love of dad as he sat there and did dad things years ago. Now as a 61 year old adult, I am living alone, sleeping in my same bedroom and although the bedroom has changed, the secretary desk is still there in the same place against the wall. Whenever I am sad or in crises, I touch the secretary desk and often feel the spiritual presence of dad doing dad things.One of his dad things was to give me a kiss and hug when I would see him sitting there as a child.that kiss and hug are spiritual now from Heaven. It is so wonderful how the physical belongings of our loved ones, beloved and cherished become meaningful spiritual remembrances for us. The bookcase in the top of the secretary desk is untouched and the file folders in those 3 mystery drawers are the same as they were when I was a child. Glorious is life when we have treasures of physical beauty and spiritual love to soothe our pain and add smiles and sun shines to lives. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- COPYRIGHT INFORMATION Attention all subscribers Prose'n'poems takes all poets on the honor system and cannot be held responsible for unethical contributors. We receive many wonderful submissions by our loyal readers. 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