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OUR READERS WRITE
Our Readers Write has proven to be very popular with our readers
since it was introduced many, many years ago.
The Almanack continues to receive a great number of submissions,
ranging from short essays and amusing anecdotes to timeless quotations
and fine, original poetry. Everyone has a creative side to him
or her and we encourage you to tap into that creativity and send
along a contribution.
The Almanack encourages all its readers to consider submitting
something to Our Readers Write. We promise to consider each and
every one for publication.
Each contributor that has his or her submission published will
receive 6 copies of that edition to share with their family and
friends. Please mail or e-mail any contribution to:
C. W. Fisher, Jr.
Editor,
The Hagers-Town Town & Country Almanack
9 East Butler Avenue
New Britain, Pennsylvania 18901 cwfisherjr@comcast.net
This original poem was sent to us by Mary Hockman from Olney,
Maryland. It was written by her son-in-law, Robert Barber:
OH SNOWFLAKE
Of all things that God did make
Is the innocence and beauty of the falling snowflake.
So pure and honest, whose beauty upon sight
Is for me a symbol of God’s true love.
There are times, however that trouble me so
When earth’s dirt and soot taint the snowflake’s
white glow.
Tis Satan! Tis Satan!
Satan’s attempt upon God’s world so to intrude.
Satan’s curse on the snowflake I proudly disdain
In favor of God’s world I gladly proclaim
Oh snowflake! Oh snowflake! You will always be
The symbol of God’s purity and love for me.
No matter how trodden and melted you be.
It is always your downward gentleness I will see
Oh God! Oh God! I give you my praise.
For the snowflake! For the snowflake!
To the last of my days.
Long-time contributor, Douglas Scott Arey from Westover, Maryland
submitted this inspiring piece written by Kitty Chapel:
THE dangerous people are not the ones who hit you with clubs and
rob you with guns.
THE thief won’t attack your character traits or belittle
your abilities to your face.
IT likely will be a well-meaning friend who merely crushes your
will to win.
NO, he doesn’t rob you at the point of a gun. He merely says, “It
can’t be done”.
WHEN pointed to thousands who already have, he smiles and says, “Oh,
they are superior”.
Personality-wise and ability too, they are
Way ahead of what you can do.
IT matters not if his words are untrue
For you feel that others must know you.
SO you are robbed of your dreams, your hopes to succeed, robbed
of material blessing received, robbed of your faith that says, “I
can”.
AND robbed by an ignorant, gunless friend.
SO, the deadliest of men is not he with a gun,
But the one who tells you it can’t be done.
For that taken by burglars can be gotten again
BUT who can replace your will to win?
This charming letter was recently received from another satisfied
customer!
My great-uncle Will Bailey lived in Winchester,
Virginia during the last years of his life (he died at 107).
He “could grow
things” according to my family history. It is said he ran
his garden according to the HAGERS-TOWN ALMANACK by using their
gardening chart. I am the 4th generation to subscribe to your
publication.
Helen Gerhardt
Springfield Ohio
Rise early in the morning
To plant flower seeds
A couple of months later
You need to pull the weeds
Lots of pretty blooms
You are hoping to see
Will the weather co-operate
Rain and sunshine are the key
Raindrops fall softly
On your newly planted seeds
You’re hoping your care in planting
Will eliminate the weeds
As Springtime turns to Summer
Lots of sunshine is a bet
It will really help the blooms
If you could just stop the digging cat!
Faye Barker
Winchester, Virginia
WAHT DID I JUST RAED?
I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was
rdanieg.
The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to rscheearch at
Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in what oredr the ltteers in
a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the
frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. Tihs is bcuseae
the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but
the wrod
as a wlohe.
Amzanig huh? Yaeh and I awlyas wsa led to blveiee ttha slpeling
was so danr ipmorantt!
Penny Vigna
Warwick, Pennsylvania
Over the years, Tina M. Hultslander of Funkstown, Maryland has
submitted many fine poems, usually rejoicing the seasons. This
year is no exception. Here are two of her latest:
EPHEMERAL SPRING
As Winter drew off and released his grasp
He opened the door and tipped his hat
To welcome Spring as she came in the door
Budding beautiful flowers on the wooden earthen floor
She swirled and twirled till all became green
Leaving the panorama a most exquisite scene
Come dance now patrons and sing her song
For it won’t be long until she’s again gone
Maiden Spring
In the dark barren forest deep,
Lies beautiful Spring fast asleep
Till brilliant sun doth touch her cheek
She lifts her voice and starts to speak
Ushering orders to branches bare
To lift their heads and grow their hair
Waving her arms in radiant commands
Flowers dance by the motion of their hands
Birds flutter their dainty, diminutive wings
Darting here and there, saying “Hello” to Spring!
A woman and a man got into a terrible accident, totaling both
cars completely. Luckily, no one was hurt. After they crawled out
from the wreckage, the woman said, “Wow, look at our cars.
It’s a miracle we weren’t killed. It is a sign from
God”. The man agreed with she continued. “And look
at this other miracle….even though both cars were totaled,
this bottle of wine remained unbroken. That is truly a sign that
God wants us to drink it now and celebrate our good fortune. She
handed the bottle to the man, who opened it and drank heartily,
finishing half of it. He handed the bottle back to the woman but
she just replaced the cap and handed it back to the man. “Aren’t
you having any?”, he asked. The woman simply replied, “No,
thanks. I think I will wait for the police to arrive”.
Lorraine Cantell
Dover, Delaware
A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying
the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.
He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been
dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one
side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long
hill, he saw a magnificent gate in the wall that looked like Mother
of Pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure
gold. As he and the dog walked toward the gate, he saw a
man at a desk to one side. He called out to the man, "Excuse
me, where are we?"
"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.
"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the
man asked.
"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water
brought right up."
"Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come
in, too?" the traveler asked.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."
The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the
road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he
came to a dirt road, which led through a farm gate that looked
as if it had never been closed. As he approached the gate, he saw
a man inside, leaning against a tree.
Excuse me!" he called to the man. "Do you have any water?"
"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there". The man pointed
to a place that couldn't be seen from outside the gate. "Come
on in."
"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to
the dog.
"There should be a bowl by the pump." They went
through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand
pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the bowl and took
a long drink
himself, then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he
and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the
tree waiting for them. "What do you call this place?" the
traveler asked.
"This is Heaven," he answered.
"Well, that's really confusing," the traveler said. "The
man down the road said that was Heaven, too."
"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly
gates? Nope. That's Hell."
"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like
that?"
"No, but I can see how you might think so. We're just happy
that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends
behind."
Linda Eveland
Scottsville, Virginia
IN THE GARDEN PATCH
The flower broke forth and reached out her arms
To celebrate morning and all of Spring’s charms
She turned side to side
In the Summer’s warm sun
She lay back down
As the Fall came upon.
Descending to the ground
As cold Winter bit through the air
To bid out her time until Spring summoned her there
Tina Huntslander
Funkstown, Maryland
Jane Lippy from Hampstead, Maryland has this to say about the
past hurricane season
HURRICANE HAIKU
Heartless Katrina
saddened lives and shattered dreams
in her southern sweep.
Playful Ophelia
enjoyed an ocean frolic;
then crashed on the beach.
Reckless Rita
disassembled Dixie’s shore
a’ la Katrina
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