THE CORNER 4 WOMEN

Sunday 28 July 2024

"SHARING CORN"

"SHARING CORN"
(author unknown)

There was a farmer who grew excellent quality corn. Every year he won the award for the best grown corn. One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbour's. “How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbour's when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?” the reporter asked.

“Why sir,” said the farmer, “Didn’t you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbour's grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn.

If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbours grow good corn.”

So is with our lives... Those who want to live meaningfully and well must help enrich the lives of others, for the value of a life is measured by the lives it touches.

And those who choose to be happy must help others find happiness, for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all...

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"THE HAND SHAKE" by Mary O’Brien

"THE HAND SHAKE"

by Mary O’Brien ©

He thrust his hand out boldly, with a smile upon his face,

Then glancing down he pulled it back, in shame and half disgrace.

‘Sorry love my hand is way too dirty, to shake the likes of yours,

‘There’s grease and dirt and god knows what, on my rough old paws.’

His smile just briefly faded, as he wiped them on his shirt,

‘Mate won’t bother me’ I quickly said, ‘it’s just a bit of dirt’.

I wonder did he even see, the story in his hand,

All the blisters, cuts and bruises, from him working on the land.

The bent and broken finger, from when the micky hit the gate,

The cracked and blackened fingernail, when he held a chisel for a mate.

He may have seen those battle scars, but did he see the rest?

The story of his life laid there, a toiler of the best.

Those hands have cut the mulga, put out the licks and block,

And from a muddy dam, they have pulled the dying stock.

They guide the header through the crop, over hectares ripe and gold,

Then into church on Sunday, his partners’ hand they hold.

Embedded with black diesel grease, and burrs from woolly sheep,

They brush the frost off windscreens, as he starts while others sleep.

His hands have tied the tricky knots, to hold the precious load,

Then they steer the massive road train, as it rumbles down the road.

They proudly taught his son just how, to hold that cricket bat,

They clean the trough, shoe the horse, and help a lady change a flat.

Leather they have polished, then tightened up the girth,

They gentle break the yearling colt, and draw mud maps in the dirt.

These hands have bled so many times; he scarcely feels the pain,

They pass the footy, turn the snags, and check the gauge for rain.

That hand has locked in contracts; with this hand, he gives his word,

They have shovelled mud around the wheels, and have saved a baby bird.

Hands that wave his hat about, pushing weaners up the race,

They’ve held a tiny tea-set cup, to see the smile upon her face.

Hands that relocate a brown snake, when it somehow gets inside,

They have evacuated green frogs, and buried Fluffy when she died.

Those hands have cracked a stock whip, and dressed a fly blown sheep,

They rub his aching back, as he dreams about some sleep.

Tough hands that dug the postholes, and welded up the gate,

They’ve rolled a fleece, cheered his team, and passed a cold one to a mate.

They’ve wiped the sweat, chased the flies, and even broken up a fight,

They tap the calculator buttons, in his office late at night.

Milking cows, digging grids, and carrying bags of grain.

He has pressed those hands together, as he muttered prayers for rain.

They fix the pump, start the siphons, and scratch his troubled head,

And then they rub his weary eyes, as he finally heads to bed.

These hands untangle Christmas lights; kids and tinsel all around,

They check the crop has sprouted, as they scratch into the ground.

They tend the vines, they pick the fruit, they crush the sweetest cane,

Then they hold a tiny pushbike seat, and cradle children in their pain.

Hands that lay a wreath for granddad, as the haunting Last Post plays,

They wrap around his family, as he waits for better days.

With these hands he fought the bush-fire, to save his neighbours’ crop,

They have tied his daughter’s laces, and thrown hay bales up on top.

Those hands have fixed the windmill, and split the ironbark log,

They’ve shorn the rams, checked the crops, and cupped water for his dog.

To safety, they have pulled him, up the stockyard rail,

And they wiped away his silent tears, when the crop got smashed with hail.

He looked a little ill at ease, as he stood there in the yard,

Especially when I grabbed his hand, and shook it long and hard.

I hope he understood, that I saw much more than grime,

‘Mate, it’s just a bit of dirt’, I uttered one more time.

Looking past the grease and dirt; I see his joy, his pain, his tears,

If you’re watching with your heart, you see the story of his years.

Saturday 27 July 2024

"THE WOMAN AND THE BEES" by Chima_Dickson Official

"THE WOMAN AND THE BEES"

by Chima_Dickson Official

There was a beautiful young woman who made friends with a colony of bees. She visited the beehive in the woods everyday, and she offered her bee friends sugar and flowers filled with delicious nectar.

The bees loved her very much and loved to play with her. They would hover around her, kiss her and tell her how she brightened up their day. They deeply appreciated her kindness and generosity.

One evening, the woman was walking through the woods when a hungry and ferocious leopard attacked her. She froze for a second, paralysed with fear and unable to run. Her heart pounded heavily, her palms sweaty, and she began to tremble from head to foot.

With a quavering voice, she pleaded,

"Please, don't kill me! I am an innocent bride who is about to be married to a wealthy sailor. Please, let me go!"

However, the hungry leopard growled and snarled at her so viciously,

"Shut your mouth, you coward! I am going to kill you and eat your flesh! I will tear you apart and fill my hungry stomach!"

A shiver of horror ran through the woman and filled all her bones with fright, she thought she would die right there. Suddenly, the thought of her bee friends crossed her mind. At once, an idea struck her, and she said to the leopard,

"Listen, I am a cursed girl with a very bitter blood. My blood tastes exactly like coffee, making my flesh bitter too. You won't enjoy eating me. But if you take me to the beehive, the bees can give you some honey which can make my blood tasty and sweet."

The leopard thought for a moment, then grunted impatiently in agreement,

"Alright, then! Now, let's go and get some honey. I can't wait to fill my stomach!"

The leopard grabbed the woman and began pulling her towards the beehive which was a short distance away. However, upon getting there, the woman screamed for help, calling out her bee friends.

Like the wind, all the bees burst out from their hive and attacked the leopard, biting and stinging it mercilessly, until it cried and ran far away.

Having defeated the ferocious leopard, the bees smiled at the woman and said,

"This is the only way we can pay for your kindness towards us. We love you, and we wish you a very happy married life. We will miss you so much when you finally go live with your husband."

Upon saying that, the bees accompanied her back to her village and bid her farewell. The leopard on the other hand, was able to heal it's wounds from the bee stings. However, the stings had formed black spots all over it's skin which never went away.

MORAL LESSON:

When you do good for others, you might not be rewarded for your actions immediately, but you would surely receive it someday. Be kind to all people, share love with everyone and forgive your enemies. It can lead to positive outcomes and rewards in the future.

"MOTHER'S DINNER DATE"

"MOTHER'S DINNER DATE" (author unknown)

When you have the urge to get together with someone DO IT!!

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, “I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.”

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “What’s wrong, are you well?” she asked.

My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. “I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,” I responded. “Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.”

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel’s. “I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed, “she said, as she got into the car. “They can’t wait to hear about our meeting.”

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cosy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady.

After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. “It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. “Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favour,” I responded. During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation – nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other’s life. We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed.

“How was your dinner date?” asked my wife when I got home. “Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered.

A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her. Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: “I paid this bill in advance. I wasn’t sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates – one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son.”

At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: “I LOVE YOU” and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till “some other time.”

Friday 26 July 2024

"HOLD MY HAND SISTER" by Joanne Boyle

"HOLD MY HAND SISTER"
by Joanne Boyle

Hold my hand Sister

Let us run and play.

Let us go to a memory

from a yesterday.

Let us forget our troubles.

Put our aches to the side.

Let us walk on the beach

as our memories collide.

Talk to me sister

about nothing at all.

Let us live in the moments

like when we were small.

Let us go in our minds

to a memory of ours.

Then let's talk over tea

for hours and hours.

Hold my hand Sister

and don't let it go

Because age will come

and we will grow.

********

Author Joanne Boyle ~ Heartfelt

Art by ~ Steffi Krenzek

"Friends Like Us" by Joanne Boyle

"Friends Like Us"

by Joanne Boyle

Remember when we were little

and all the stories that we told?

We would talk about our future,

about a time that we'd grow old.

We would whisper in the wind

Send our dreams up to the sky.

We trusted one another

like the faithful butterfly.

We made a pact together,

and it just seems like yesterday

when we'd call on each other

to see if we were coming out to play.

Our teddy bears shared a picnic

and now our living children do.

All those stories that we told

most of them came true.

We didn't talk about the sorrows.

The ones that we would face.

As children we did not know

of the losses from this place.

Time taught us many values

but we shared them with each other.

From children and their dolls

we all, in turn became a Mother.

I still recall the games we played

and all the fun we had.

The nights we'd play hide and seek

until we were found by mum or dad.

Summer days we would play rounders

with other kids from different streets.

Sundays were a day of rest

and tea was made from treats.

If I had known back then

the things that I now know.

I would cherish every minute

with the friends that helped me grow.

*********

J.Boyle

https://www.facebook.com/poeminabottlle
art by Steffi Krenzek

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"Our Children and The Runaway Train"

Michael Holiday, the 1950's crooner sang about "The Runaway Train" and how it went rolling down the track when it "Blew". Today the runaway train of children the world over, are very much akin to the old steam train of yesteryear, as they blow their cool and head off down those symbolistic tracks, looking for the better life they believe lies, just over the horizon.

As parents we all stand in dread of this happening to our own offspring in the prime of their young lives, thinking its simply an attitude thing, and that almost all teenagers go through this period at some stage in their development. But all too often we are looking at it all from a totally wrong and supposedly grown up perspective. Yes when this happens and our children take to the streets, or simply run away and disappear from, what we believe to be the comforts of their own homes, we are totally gutted. We see our pristine life shattered, as we feel the loss of our loved ones. Our hearts are truly broken and in some ways understandably so. But lets stand back for a while and view this from the runaway child's perception of the world around them to fully understand better the WHY this is so prevalent in most civilized societies today.

Children, especially teenagers and young adults, are under enormous pressure to do well at school, college and university. Their academic achievements are the centre of what parents believe to be "Good for them" and failure isn't an option. Study, study and more study is the order of the day, with real time out and prime family time missing from their daily routine. Parents become distant and suddenly unapproachable, and this often is portrayed to our teens as uncaring and unloving behaviour, where once, time was spent together through their younger years. Now parents are suddenly like strangers who only meet at the breakfast table battlefield arena, gone are the carefree happy days of their early childhood. This is just the tip of the iceberg we ourselves as parents have created, as we ourselves are guilty of spending far too many hours at the office and even less continuing to get to know the ever developing and changing adolescent. It's that, us and them attitude that denies our children the understanding they really need, at times when they are going through so much, when a simple cuddle, or "I'm so proud of you", yes the simple little things that really mean so much to our developing young. All to often we half abandon them within our homes to pursue our own activities, yet denying them theirs, as they become our glorified unpaid baby sitters as they look after younger siblings, then moan when they cannot cope through having no or hardly any social life of their own.

Girls are maturing much younger today; their bodies and minds are undergoing changes that didn't develop until much later, a few years ago. They are growing into young adults with all the feelings and emotions that come with it. They find a real need for seeking out love and understanding, they first look to us parents, but we fail to see this need, blindly going about our own lives, without a second thought. We take it out on them for our own misfortunes, blaming them forever being born, the classic pitch that many a youngster has heard. Now come on, hold up your hand if any of you parents can relate to this in any way.

When was the last time you actually had an intelligent conversation with your teenager without your differences of opinion turning into world war three because you failed to relate or understand the point they were making. These adolescent youngsters are often on the verge of abuse without realising it. And many a parent is so guilty of being abusive through lack of understanding, or simply not being able to cope themselves with what life throws at them. What roll models do you think we make when our own lives are so very complex and often we as parents and partners need tranquillisers and alcohol to simply cope with getting up in the morning. Yet our teenagers are expected to be able to cope with their own personal stresses and trauma's without these aids, and on top of that we give them no real support, love or loyalty.

Our children are crying out for help and unless we listen to their needs and act upon them, then more and more we are going to find them boarding and becoming that Runaway Train to break their own chains of their perceived oppression, leaving behind a trail of tears in their wake, as the guilt ridden parents sit and wonder WHY, yet still not having a single clue as to the real reason their son's and daughters ran away from home in the first place. Lack of communication between teenager and parents is the route cause, plus the parents failing to realize their babies are no longer children, but are young adults with their own lives to live. They need to learn from their own mistakes, and create foundations of their own. They want to experience this togetherness, and closeness to others that adults call love. They need a little independence and gentle guidance. These young adults may still need protecting, as they are going to be quite vulnerable, yet this protection should never overwhelm their own sense of self worth. However most of all they need to be heard by you, and you as a parent are indeed their roll model be it good or bad, and if you want your children to grow up and have a better life than you, then its you that must change to give it to them and not be a constant reminder of your own past mistakes, after all no child ever asked to be brought into this world, this was a decision you made when you yourself was an adolescent fumbling in the dark without a manual. So remember you too were young and rebellious in your own individual way, and no doubt your own parents found it hard to communicate and cope with you.

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