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Welcome to Stories of Heart! ~ If you are not a subscriber and this has been passed on to you, join us by sending a blank e-mail to [email protected] with "subscribe" in the subject line. And get the love direct! Tour our web site: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001 ________________________________________________________ "If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal, not to people or things." -- Albert Einstein ________________________________________________________ This issue is dedicated to our grads and dads! Folks, give a Texas-sized HOWDY to our newest contributor, Dafna Yee! With my son, Ethan, graduating Kindergarten last week, I felt it appropriate to touch your heart with an inspirational story about one woman's special graduation you will not likely forget. Thank you, Dafna! Happy Father's Day to all the wonderful Dads out there - of course, including my kids' own, Stephen Oliver! With Father's Day this Sunday, I submit to you, following Dafna's wonderful story, a tribute to my own father, Joseph Senger. I love you, Dad! _________________________________________________________ MY PROFESSOR'S GIFT I wanted to become a psychologist. So, despite the fact that I had two children under six at home and was already in my late 30's, I entered the University of Texas at Dallas in the summer of 1991. With luck and hard work, I hoped to graduate with honors and be accepted into a doctoral program. But I never counted on multiple sclerosis (MS) coming into my life. The diagnosis that came at the beginning of my senior year destroyed my plans. First I lost most of my eyesight, becoming legally blind. Then came numbness in my legs that forced me to attend classes in a wheelchair. I no longer had the energy to spend long overtime hours in study groups and in the library. Obviously, getting an honors diploma was impossible. My aim was now just to graduate from college, and even that sometimes seemed in doubt. However, Professor Richard Golden, my honor's thesis mentor, didn't think I should lower my goals. He had always been supportive, but now he really got behind me. He did more of the laboratory work than was usual for a professor. More importantly, he extended the normal deadlines, enabling me to complete assignments under the changed circumstances. The continued progression of my MS overcame even Dr. Golden's help. By February 1995, three months before I was expecting to graduate, my chronic fatigue and constant pain prevented me from attending college at all. I could neither complete my final two courses nor the research project that was a requirement for an honors diploma. Dr. Golden learned of my predicament from the department secretary, Wanda, whom I'd had to inform of my need to drop out, and without telling me, managed to have those courses waived. Even more importantly, he urged the department review committee to accept my thesis in an unfinished state because of the consistently high caliber of my research over the preceding two years (I'd maintained a 4.0 GPA.). This meant that the impossible had occurred. Unbelievably, I was going to graduate, not just with honors, but summa cum laude! At the honors ceremony that took place the night before graduation, my husband, Tom, and my young daughters, Roma and Kathy, sat in the audience with my 93-year-old grandmother, who had made the difficult trip from New York. Only eleven people out of over 400 graduates received the coveted medallion, and when the dean placed it around my neck, he kissed my cheek. Kathy immediately yelled out, "Who's that man kissing my mommy? Make him stop!" Everyone started to applaud. Thanks to Dr. Golden's generosity, my graduation was all that I had hoped for and more. Dafna Yee [email protected] Copyright © 2002 by Dafna Yee. All rights reserved. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ About the author: As a writer and teacher working out of my home in Plano, TX, I often write about Jewish and Israeli issues, humorous anecdotes, women's issues, animals, and stories about the unusual people and events that I've come across in my life. I've been working with people in various difficult situations for nearly 30 years, both professionally and as a volunteer. I offer advice on subjects that include, but are not limited to, domestic violence, sexual relationships and problems, eating disorders, discrimination, and ways of coping with chronic illnesses. I live with two wonderful teenage daughters, Roma and Kathy, one great husband, Tom, one playful dog, Loki, and one big and furry cat, Shadow. The cat's the boss... :-) My favorite activity is talking with people. ~ You can catch more of Dafna's writing talent at her home page http://dafnayee.home.attbi.com. By the way, her birthday was June 8, so feel free to extend your birthday wishes to our newest contributor! _________________________________________________________ Find out how Roger Dean Kiser, Sr., is using his life to spell success for orphans coast to coast! He's started the Sad Orphan Foundation in hopes that other orphans may experience kindness. As Roger said, it was acts of kindness, however small, that saved him. For more information, please visit Roger's web site at http://www.geocities.com/thesadorphanfoundation. _________________________________________________________ EAGLE AWARD Old Spice and polished wingtip shoes. At the helm of a station wagon filled with kids. Up before everyone else, eating bacon and scrambled eggs in your fatigues. These are my earliest sense of you. I lounged in your lap when we watched "Bonanza" and other shows of which I could never make heads nor tails. That was before you and Mom knew I needed hearing aids. That was before you went to Vietnam for the second tour. Your uniformed presence in a framed photograph guarded us while Mom tended to eight kids by herself. I was too young to understand the conflict overseas, but I felt you in our lives. Mom wrote long letters while on the stoop, keeping one eye on us. I remember posing for a family photograph at a professional studio as a surprise for your homecoming. I climbed into your lap as though you'd never left and proudly pointed out the family portrait to you. You smiled and hugged me hard and called me pumpkin. I was too young to understand the politics of this conflict, that my country had shut its doors to shattered lives returning home. So I didn't know better. I thought you were a war hero. And nothing to this day can shake me of that belief. You captured Vietnam through lens of a camera, images clicked away, one by one, on the slide projector. A soldier shaving over a water- filled helmet. A bare-bottomed baby on a young mother's hip. Schoolgirls dressed in white on their way to school. Fishermen with gap-toothed smiles. Comrades posing in a jeep. A covert shot of Bing Crosby, pipe in hand, on a balcony during a USO tour. An aerial view of your camp the day before it was bombed. It was as if you had purposely singled out normal slices of life. Coming home, it appeared you had outdistanced the horrors. You carried on like any other father. Mowing lawns, tuning engines, chauffeuring us to catechism, allowing us to drive the golf cart while you shouted, "Beautiful, Hon!" to Mom when she drove the ball well. You cheered at our graduations and school concerts. You gave away daughters at the altar. One Christmas springs to mind. At a loss as to what to give your girls, you presented us with a wrapped shoebox inside of which was a slip of paper that simply said, "I love you. Love, Dad." I can't even remember what else I opened that Christmas morning. One of my sisters, while in high school, was dating a rock and roll star wannabe whose band practiced out in the open air behind our apartment building on post. And the reason their electrical guitars screeched and moaned and twanged (to the delight of gathering neighborhood kids) was because you allowed the band to snake the cord through our dining room window and plug it into the outlet behind your chair. While the electrical storm of rock and roll songs bombarded us as we ate Sunday dinner, I watched you cut your roast beef and dip it into your gravy-ed mashed potatoes. Your expression was stoic. We ate in silence because we could not hear ourselves talk in the whirlwind of squealing music that prompted police sirens in the background. I'll never forget the feeling that washed over me as I witnessed your patience with a daughter dating a rock and roll star wannabe. You could've turned around and yanked that plug out from behind your chair. But you didn't. When I was nine, there was a long drive to an audiologist. It was just you and me and my Barbie doll on this exhausting daylong trip. The audiologist had new technology within his grasp: eyeglasses with built-in hearing aids. I remembered thinking how wonderful it would be to no longer have my hearing aids shoved through my hair by the stems of my glasses. Much to my disappointment, the style of glasses was only offered in an unexciting choice of brown or black. They were, well...they were like yours! I was afraid to tell you how I really felt because you had driven all this way just for me. But one look at my crestfallen face, and you politely told the audiologist, no, thanks. It's for this and for countless thoughtful deeds that I bestow upon you, my war hero, the Eagle Award. Because in spite of all that you had witnessed beyond the camera's range in that unpopular conflict years ago, you chose to soar above troubling times for the sake of your family. Jennifer Oliver [email protected] Copyright © 2002 by Jennifer Oliver. All rights reserved. ___________________________________________ If you own a small business, or you are in an intimate relationship with someone who does, sign up for the Entrepreneurial Couples Success (ECS) Newsletter by Azriela Jaffe! This FREE newsletter can help you achieve your business goals while sustaining a loving marriage. Just e-mail Azriela at [email protected] to subscribe to her newsletter. Check out her cool website "Anchored Dreams" at http://www.isquare.com/crlink.htm. _________________________________________________________ QUOTES FROM LESSER KNOWN PEOPLE Seven-year-old Rebecca wrote a note to her friend across the street. It had pictures of a dollar bill and some change on it and read, "Dear Jesus, I have more money than you. If you show me your money, I'll show you mine." Then she left a note for her Dad under his bedroom door so it would be the first thing he saw after his afternoon nap. It read, "Dear Dad, can Gloria please come over to play? I'll give you 25 cents. I love you. Rebecca" - Beth Shaw, mother of Rebecca ~ Do you have a family love moment or quote from lesser known people you would like to share with us? Send it to [email protected]! _________________________________________________________ Treat yourself to "Wisehearts' Weaving Small Wisdoms," a free newsletter that is like receiving roses through e-mail. Terri McPherson ([email protected]), one of my favorite writers, is the creator of this inspiring e-zine. Give yourself this gift and subscribe now by sending a blank e-mail to Terri. Because you deserve it! _________________________________________________________ FROM OUR FRIENDLY E-MAIL CARRIER In regards to Percodan Panties by Lissa Lee (http://geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/060402.htm) What a great story! Thank goodness we are able to laugh at situations that could prove to undo us completely! Thanks for the laugh. - [email protected] I just love getting your Stories of Heart and especially look forward to the kids' quotes at the end. They're great! - Love, Joy _________________________________________________________ LOVE, JENNIFER I. OLIVER AND FAMILY [email protected] "To live that in thy last long sleep, Smiles my be thine wile all around thee weep." - Nellie L. Wallace, June 24, 1873 _________________________________________________________ This E-mail may be forwarded in its entirety, but first ask the writer for permission before forwarding. Thank you for doing the decent thing! Ü ________________________________________________________ SUBMIT STORY, QUOTE, OR FAMILY LOVE MOMENT: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/submission.htm FEEDBACK: [email protected] ________________________________________________________ |
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