By the way, on some of the pictures, if you hover your pointer over the picture, ya might find a comment from me on it.
Now its time for the show to start !!!!
Painting The Church!
There was a tradesman, a painter called Jock, who was very interested in
making a penny where he could, so he often would thin down paint to make
it go a wee bit further.
As it happened, he got away with this for some time, but eventually the
Baptist Church decided to do a big restoration job on the painting of one
of their biggest buildings. Jock put in a bid, and because his price was
so low, he got the job.
And so he set to erecting the trestles and setting up the planks, and
buying the paint and, yes, I am sorry to say, thinning it down with
turpentine.
Well, Jock was up on the scaffolding, painting away, the job nearly
completed when suddenly there was a horrendous clap of thunder, and the
sky opened, the rain poured down, washing the thinned paint from all over
the church and knocking Jock clear off the scaffold to land on the lawn
among the gravestones, surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and
useless paint.
Jock was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from the Almighty, so he got
on his knees and cried: "Oh, God! Forgive me! What should I do?"
And from the thunder, a mighty voice spoke...
"Repaint! Repaint! and thin no more!"
I watched the flag pass by one day,
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease..
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' plane shot down?
How many died at sea
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't free.
I heard the sound of Taps one night,
When everything was still,
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin.
Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free.
Enjoy Your Freedom & God Bless Our Troops
& now your at the end of the letter, I hope that you enjoyed !
