If I Die Young by The Band Perry

If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
oh oh oh oh

Lord make me a rainbow, I’ll shine down on my mother
She'll know I’m safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time

If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time

And I’ll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom
I’m as green as the ring on my little cold finger
I’ve never known the lovin' of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand
There’s a boy here in town says he’ll love me forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I’ll wear my pearls
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
What I never did is done

A penny for my thoughts, oh no I’ll sell them for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I’m a gone
And maybe then you’ll hear the words I been singin’
Funny when you're dead how people start listenin’

If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
oh oh


The ballad of a dove
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep ‘em in your pocket
Save them for a time when your really gonna need 'em oh

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I’ll wear my pearls

Never Forget.

Nine years ago today, America changed as we knew it. For the better and for the worse. We became an angry country, unforgiving and brutal. But we were United.

I was eight years old. My sister, mom and I went on a bike ride. My dad stayed home because he was working nights at the time. Our internet wasn't working, so my mom wanted to stop at my gramma's house to check her email. My mom looked worried after she had done that, but we continued our ride home. When we arrived home, my dad was at the door to our basement. I remember his exact words: "Stace, you gotta come see this." My mom ran downstairs. We could hear them screaming and crying. I was so scared. But I was the big sister, so I remember hugging Sarah as she asked me "Why are mommy and daddy so scared?". I couldn't answer. I didn't like that.

The phone was ringing off the hook that day. Turned out my gramma, who works for FEMA, was less than 15 blocks away in her office, and family and friends were calling to check if she was okay. My mom always answered the phone, but she never had an answer. She kept calling my gramma, but she never picked up.

My parents eventually told my sister and I what had happened. I kept a diary at the time, and I still have it somewhere. I have about five entries I wrote that day. One day, maybe I'll get it published. Reflections of an eight year old's experience of a national tragedy. My explanation to my diary about what had happened was simple. There were some not nice people who didn't like America. They flew a plane into a big building in New York City and lots of people got hurt. Some even died.

I wasn't allowed to watch the footage, and I'm glad.

My gramma was okay. Her whole floor had swarmed to the windows to watch the buildings fall. She was answering everybody else's phone calls. That night, we were at her house. I saw part of the TV footage. I will never be able to erase the image of people running and screaming from the falling buildings. The next day, my gramma rented a car and drove into the city. She had to LIVE in New York for about a year to deal with the turmoil.

I'll never forget. I hope you won't either.

This was in my Church bulletin this week, and I thought I'd share:

MEET ME IN THE STAIRWELL

You say you will never forget where you were when you heard the news on September 11, 2001.

Neither will I.

I was on the 110th floor in a smoke filled room with a man who called his wife to say 'Good Bye'. I held his fingers steady as he dialed. I gave him the peace to say, 'Honey, I am not going to make it, but it is OK... I am ready to go.'

I was with his wife when he called as she fed breakfast to their children. I held her up as she tried to understand his words and as she realized he wasn't coming home that night.

I was in the stairwell of the 23rd floor when a woman cried out to Me for help.

'I have been knocking on the door of your heart for 50 years!' I said.

'Of course I will show you the way home - only believe in Me now.'

I was at the base of the building with the Priest ministering to the injured and devastated souls. I took him home to tend to his Flock in Heaven. He heard my voice and answered.

I was on all four of the planes, in every seat, with every prayer. I was with the crew as they were overtaken. I was in the very hearts of the believers there, comforting and assuring them that their faith had saved them.  I was in Texas, Virginia, California, Michigan, Afghanistan. I was standing next to you when you heard the terrible news.

Did you sense Me?

I want you to know that I saw every face.

I knew every name -though not all know Me.

Some met me for the first time on the 86th floor. 

Some sought Me with their last breath.

Some couldn't hear me calling to them through the smoke and flames; 'Come to Me... this way... take my hand.'

Some chose, for the final time, to ignore Me.

But, I was there.

I did not place you in the Tower that day. 

You may not know why, but I do... However, if you were there in that explosive moment in time, would you have reached for Me?

Sept. 11 2001, was not the end of the journey for you. But someday, your journey will end. And I will be there for you as well. Seek Me now while I may be found. Then, at any moment, you know you are 'read to go.' I will be in the stairwell of your final moments.

God.

Cheap Tricks

Ladders, mirrors
A black
Cat
Watch the rabbit
Come out of the hat
Magic, luck, it's all the same
Gullible minds are its favorite prey
Pick a card, any card
Doesn't matter, isn't hard
To see that it's short-lived amusement
A moment of wonder, thrill, confusion
Until you learn how the trick is done
And your bubble of enchantment
Pops.
Gone.

The Violin

Play me a song
On your shy violin
Tuck her in gently
Under your chin
Tickle her softly
With the bow's string
Let me hear her laugh
As you help her to sing
Lend her a voice
With your firm fingertips
Let your bow kiss
Her beautiful lips
Oh the songs she will sing!
And the tunes she will spin!
Play us a song
On your shy violin

By Anna S. age 17
Be sure to check out her blog!

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

I know I promised a book review of The Goose Girl but I ditched it when I got Wuthering Heights at Borders for five bucks. I'll get to it soon, but in the meantime here's a review of Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights.

"...I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!"
-Heathcliff

Mr. Lockwood is new to the area and as a diversion to fight off the boredom of living in an isolated part of the country, he asks his new housekeeper to tell him the history of his interesting neighbors, including his landlord, Mr. Heathcliff. Mrs. Dean, the housekeeper, turns out to have known this intriguing Heathcliff for most of his life. She launches into a fascinating narrative of the lives and troubles of the Earnshaws and Lintons, the two great families of the neighborhood, and in the middle of all of it, Heathcliff. He starts out as a homeless child with no family or history that anyone knows of. Mr. Earnshaw finds him and takes him into his home to live with his two other children, Catherine and Hindley. Catherine gets used to him eventually and comes to love him dearly; they become as close as twins. Hindley, however, hates Heathcliff for the attention he gets from old Earnshaw and persecutes him throughout their childhood, even making him act as a servant after his father dies. When Catherine and Heathcliff are about seventeen, Catherine becomes friends with their well-to-do neighbors, the Lintons. Their son, Edgar, falls in love with her and she, in a way, with him. Although she privately declares her love for Heathcliff to be incredibly strong, indeed, to be the most important part of her, she ends up marrying the richer, kinder Edgar.
As it turns out, Heathcliff worships Catherine, but he hates Edgar Linton passionately, and begins to carry out a grand scheme of vengeance on the Lintons and Earnshaws that spans nearly twenty years.

No matter what you've heard, this is not a love story. It's a story about a passion, an obsession, and the depressing, often terrifying effects it has on the people involved. The love, if it is love, between Catherine and Heathcliff is very intense and very serious, but it certainly didn't make anyone happy.
I had been scouring Borders for an hour and a half trying to find something affordable that I'd actually read. I found Wuthering Heights and thought, hey, I love one of Charlotte Brontё's works, why not try her sister? In a way, I enjoyed this book. It is well written, though rather drawn out at parts, suspenseful, and fascinating. It is also depressing and disturbing. It's an intense examination of love, hate, compassion and the lack of it. I'd say it is worth reading, especially if you're a fan darker stuff. It wasn't exactly my kind of story, but I understand why it's considered a classic.

So if this sounds good to you, go on and enjoy it. But if you prefer happy endings, read at your own risk.

Because of the Pudding: A Tragic Love Story

(AAAH! I'm sorry! I don't know how we missed this Wednesday. Here's the poem. Apologies!)

**We Katies and some of our friends were challenged to write a poem and the only rule was that it had to involve pudding. I present to you a tragic story of love never fulfilled...make sure you have some tissues handy.**

'Twas April, and love
With the flowers was blooming.
And so in the cool evening air of spring,
He fell to his knees and offered a ring
With nary a thought of the pudding.

"Marry, me darling!"
He clasped her hand to his heart.
But she turned from him, that maiden fair
And through the curtain of her hair
Said, "I can not...because of the pudding."

"The pudding?!" cried he
And let go of her hand in astonishment.
So with a tear in her lovely eye,
She explained to him the reason why
They could not wed because of the pudding.

"Thou hast made it clear
That thou never didst care for it.
I love the pudding, canst thou not see?
We never could be happy, we three
For thou dost not like pudding."

"Must thou break my heart so?"
He implored, so pitifully.
"I tried to like pudding, for thy sake, I did!
It did not agree with me and made me quite sick.
Dost thou remember how ill I was, because of the pudding?"

"I do remember, love!
And it doth break my heart too,
For though 'tis true it maketh thee sick, lo!
A thousand such suitors may come and go,
But my first loyalty is still to the pudding."

"I cannot live without thee!"
He cried, and she cried also.
Hearts torn, they went their melancholy ways.
She heard of his death the very next day.
'Twas by his own hand; he'd taken two helpings of pudding.

Inconsolable, the maid
Despaired, and nevermore was joyful.
Though she lived long, she never was wed.
Every night, silent tears she did shed,
And she lost all her love for the pudding.

Coming soon!

We seem to be suffering from a shortage of happily volunteering poets...so, for now you're stuck with us. :-P

Coming Soon!
An interview with singer Jackie Francois
A review of The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale
On Wednesday: Because of the Pudding: A Tragic Love Story
A review of Oceans Apart by Karen Kingsbury

Right after these messages!
(OK fine, there are no "messages". But I was so into that TV moment...)