The last time I saw Charlie, was the first time I had seen him walk out of sight and actually thought to myself, "you know, Charlie just might make it this time."

You see Charlie was homeless. Not poor and homeless, just homeless.

Charlie had shown up one day at the down town shelter, about two years ago. I had volunteered there for a year or so as an administrator of services, and thought I had just about seen everything. But Charlie made me realized that I still had surprises in store for me.

I was sitting at my desk, just taking a short break, when I heard a man's voice saying rather angrily, "But you don't understand, I want to give everything.
Where is the director? I want to give everything."

As I rose from my desk and made my way quickly out into the hall-way, I was startled by the sight. There stood a man, holding a brief case, a cleaner bag with a tuxedo and all the accessories in it, designer shoes on his feet, and other wise stark naked.

Trying hard to keep my composure, I ask the gentleman if he would follow me. Waving the red-faced female attendant away, I motioned to one of the male volunteers to accompany us as we went into my office.

I invited the man to sit, as all I had were metal folding chairs, I cringed as he landed his bare bottom onto the cold seat. It didn't seem to bother him in the least. He sat there for a second and said, "I'm Charlie."

Without mentioning his appearance I ask, "Well Charlie, what can I do for you today?"

He shoved the briefcase my way and tossed the tuxedo bag onto the desk. "Take it, take it all, I don't want this life anymore."

Gently I ask, "Charlie, would you like a cup of coffee? And I just happen to have a pair of jeans and a shirt here that might fit you, may I loan them to you for a while." Charlie agreed to both offers. The volunteer, very obviously familiar with outfitting a variety of sizes, headed off for coffee and some clothing.

Charlie shifted a little on the folding chair, "Open the case, open the case."

I somehow felt that if I opened that case it would be a life changing experience. My gut told me it wasn't going to harm me, although, I had at one time opened a case with a poisonous snake in it, and on another occasion one with a severed hand. But I just felt this wasn't a bomb or anything harmful.

"Charlie, before I do that, why don't you tell me a little about yourself."

By that time Charlie had dressed into the jeans and flannel shirt and was settling down a little with his cup of coffee. He was visibly beginning to relax. The agitation and wildness etched into his well groomed face, slowly eased and he took on a melancholy appearance as he began to speak. His chiseled good looks were complimented by his impeccable vocabulary.

"Well to make a long story short, I am a wealthy man," he said. "So wealthy that I can't spend it all, can't waste it all, I can't even drink it up. Alcholol makes me vomit, and I break out in hives from drugs. I try to give it away but then another bank-account shows up." he said with such remorse it was almost humorous.

"Charlie, wealth can be a powerful and positive thing, why don't you want your money.?

"Because every where I turn, someone is there, with their hand out, wanting to start a new business, or wanting me to fund a project. I used to have a simple life, an uncle, who I didn't even know, died and left me his oil fortune. And I haven't had time to go fishing in over three years." Then he said, "my days are filled with greedy people, I dress in a suit when I would rather have on jeans, shave when I would rather wear a beard, eat eggs benedict when I would rather have biscuits and gravy, and you know, now someone came up the idea I should not have a glass of cold milk, but have hot tea instead. I can't stand it anymore, my life is not my own. You can have it all."

"Charlie, what are your plans, what will you do?"

"I'm going to disappear. Become invisible. I don't want to see anybody I know, I just want to be by myself and live, really live. And I am going to fish, everyday if I want to. So can you help me out or not?"

"Charlie, I think it is time for me to open your brief case." As I opened the case, I saw it was packed tight with stacks of one hundred dollar bills. I had no idea how much money was there, but more than I had ever seen in one place.

"There is one million dollars in there and seven million more in my car, which is parked in front of this building, you can have it too." Charlie said. " And there is plenty more where that came from." I want you to use it all, do whatever good you can with it, it's no good to me."

That was two years ago.

Charlie had stopped in today just to say hello. He told me he was happy with what the organization has done with the money, and thanked me for my help. As I saw Charlie walk away, I looked at the back of a happy man. He never wanted to be consulted as to where his donation was going, where it was being used or how many houses for the homeless it had built. He just wanted it used. It seemed the more we used the more we had.

And as for Charlie, he had a beard now and fished every day. The last I heard from him he was moving into a small house down by the river. It was one in a string of thirty his money had paid for. The huge park that was located there had bath houses, burn barrels, and a few little bridges to get under for when you just had to have a taste of sleeping out-side. You know, the good old days.

And every morning Charlie had a cold glass of milk.

Author Notes

1132 words Thanks to Cleo85 for the fine picture...

Tonight, for a moment, I felt so overwhelmed with gratitude, for having had healthy children. Oh, they had the usual childhood diseases, mumps, chicken pox, and once even had scabies. One year an epidemic of scabies spread throughout the whole school they attended. If you aren't familiar with these red, irritating and itchy patches, count yourself lucky. They are caused by an itch mite, and in the past, were called 'the seven year itch.' Sounds like the title of a good 'ole' Marilyn Monroe movie, doesn't it?

I say all those things, to say this: I have experienced sitting by the bed of my sick child. I've sat with them in a tub of cool water to bring fever down. I've stayed up all night to make sure when they cough they don't choke. And I've cleaned up the 'vomit', after they barf all over the clean sheets you just put on their bed that morning. None of those times could possibly measure up, to hearing a doctor say, 'your child has cancer.'

I regularly contribute to a research hospital called St Jude. Because of that small donation, I am barraged with personalized name stickers. I get a small calendar once a year, and on occasion I receive a picture of one of the small patients graduating from the Kindergarten class they have, right on the hospital campus.

The remarkable thing about this research hospital, is that no child is ever turned away. If funds are not available to pay the hospital, they get treatment anyway.

I have never been one to desire riches, but, if by some wonderful chance, wealth should ever come my way, or perhaps a publisher should sweep up my writings, and present me with a huge advance, there will be a place where a goodly amount of my money will be sent. It will be St. Jude's hospital.

In the meanwhile, for the health of my own children, and all their children, I will remain grateful and blessed. I will pray with all my might, for Mothers who have not been so fortunate, and will keep sending my small, but loving, contribution to St. Jude.

Someday, with continued research, and the oversight of our Almighty and loving God, a cure for cancer will be found.

Author Notes

Thanks to pattigirl from fanart for this fabulous picture. For all my friends and family on Fanstory who have or have had cancer, you are in my thoughts and prayers always, for a full recovery. Love, Carolyn

Chapter 20
Butter in the Makin'

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

As a child, we always had fresh milk. Butter and home-made cottage cheese were plentiful, as well as whipped cream that would shame today's French chefs.

Mother taught all of us to hand milk our cows. We preferred Jersey cows, as their milk was sweeter and produced an abundance of cream. Or at least, that was Mother's opinion, and her opinion was always good enough for me. Jerseys were also very gentle and easy to handle.

As destiny would have it, I was powerfully influenced by my up-bringing. I just could not get the thought of that wonderful, sweet cream butter out of my mind. Oh, I know, you can buy butter any day at the super market. Fresh dairy butter is also available in certain Organic Deli's and in Amish stores and Farmers Markets.

But, being the person I am, I wanted to make it myself.

For years we bought cream from a local dairy. They went out of business a couple of years ago, so my butter making went by the way side. Until one day
we saw an ad on Craig's list for fresh, raw milk. We called the number and set up a time to visit the small family farm.

When we arrived at the Smith farm, we were delighted to see chickens and other barnyard critters running around everywhere. A few goats grazed in the yard, several huge turkeys gobbled from their pen, and in the barnyard stood a beautiful young Jersey cow. We were about to meet Daisy.

We talked to Mrs. Smith and she told us about their milking process. Daisy had her own portable milking machine, used only for her. It was stored in sanitary conditions until it was brought out twice a day for use. Daisy looked very healthy, grain and hay fed, with plenty of wonderful green pasture available to her.

Daisy was a butter maker's dream.

After purchasing two gallons of fresh milk, and several dozens of eggs, we headed home. I refrigerated the milk over night. In the morning the cream had risen to the top. I carefully skimmed the cream off both gallons of milk, and placed it into a glass quart jar. The beautiful, golden yellow cream, was thick, and sweet.

The remainder of the milk can be used raw or follow Internet directions for simple pasteurization. You are in for a treat.

As we had a very simple way of churning our butter when I was growing up, I preferred to use that method. Once the cream was in the jar, it usually was about three-quarter full, I placed the lid on tightly. (I use a new flat and band, the same used in home canning.) Then here comes the good part. Settle yourself into a comfortable recliner, lean back and turn on your favorite TV program, or just day dream if you like. Butter making will take about thirty minutes of 'shaking the jar.' The butter will separate from the milk and collect into a ball. You will be able to watch the process and will definitely know when it is complete.

Once the butter has formed in the jar, dip out into a bowl. Drain as much milk as you can. You must 'press' it, or 'paddle' it, to get all the milk out. After the majority of the milk is out of the butter, pour some cold water on it and press some more. Keep pouring the milk off the butter. The butter will start firming up. Add small amount of salt, about a quarter teaspoon, work in well, and place into a mold or cup. Chill and enjoy.

We purchased a cream separator and sometimes I now use my up-right mixer to make the butter. It is a faster process but doesn't provide the nostalgia I have grown to enjoy.

When I visit Daisy, it takes me back to memories of simple times. Don't be at all surprised if you find yourself baking cornbread or home-made rolls. They will go well with your home-made butter.

Warning: Not a fat free food.

Author Notes

This is an easy process. If you decide to make butter there are several videos available on the Internet you can watch. There are a number of ways, including the jar method. If you can't find a cow, whole whipping cream from the store will work , don't stop at the whipped cream stage. Keep whipping and it will turn into butter. Have a great experience.

Chapter 21
Blue

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

I must have sat by that oak tree for two weeks straight. I was waiting for the mail man to deliver my very first new dress ever, that was ordered and bought, just for me.

You see, we were a very large family, ten of us, to be exact. I was number nine. Mother always made our clothes, unless we were fortunate enough to have something that fit given to us. At that time in my life, things were called hand-me-downs, now we call them 'gently used, pre-owned' or 'recycled.' All I know is, I don't think I had been this excited since I won the book report contest in Miss King's class, at the beginning of second grade. I loved to write and would take any opportunity to re-tell the story of books I had read. That was a good day, but this one was good in a different way.

It all started about a month before when Miss Clark came by to bring us some catalogues . She brought Sears Roebuck, Montgomery Ward and others that I don't recall the names of. Those catalogues were used for a number of things. The primary use was to place them in the outhouse, I guess you can imagine, they weren't there just for reading. I don't remember having 'Charmin' back in those days. Well, we got to look at the Catalogues before transporting them to the outhouse. We also got to cut out paper dolls and make a 'wish list' for Christmas.

I would study those Catalogues until my eyes hurt. I would show Mother different pictures of blouses, little skirts and dresses. She would encourage me to cut out anything I really liked and keep them as patterns. Sometimes she would sew my clothes to resemble those pictures as closely as possible. I can't say enough about Mother's skills. As a teenager I would design an outfit and show it to Mother. If she had the right material , the outfit would sometimes be hanging on the door when I got up in the morning, ready to wear. I never could figure out if Mother slept as much as the rest of us did.


Well, as I browsed through the thick catalogues I found a little girl model who had on the most beautiful blue dress I had ever seen. It was blue checked, had a white collar and puffed-sleeves. The catalogue it was in was outdated but Mother said sometimes they would show it in the next season too. We didn't have much money but she told me that it was time I got a store bought-dress. I almost peed my pants with delight.

Mother sat down and wrote a letter with the order form, and sent it to Sears Roebuck. She checked a COD box, she said that meant Cash on Delivery. We didn't have checks or anything so we would pay the mailman when he brought my package. Mother said we would "just keep our fingers crossed that the dress was still available."

The dress cost two dollars and ninety-nine cents. That was a lot of money. I had earned almost a dollar picking potato bugs off the potato plants in the garden. They were soft shelled but otherwise like a beetle, and were orange with beady red eyes. Daddy gave me a penny for each bug so I 'braved' up when the job was ready to do. After Daddy counted them, well sort of, he would look in the bucket and say, "pretty close to fifty I'd think," then I would feed them to our chickens. I also fed our neighbor's chickens sometimes and would get money for that. Mother gave me the rest of the money to go with it and the 'wait was on.'

It was summertime so I could sit with my back against the oak tree and read or draw while I waited for the mailman to come. I had just completed second grade, so that meant when school started again I would be a third grader. I day-dreamed, a third grader with a new blue dress.

I thought it would never happen, but after almost three weeks my package came. As I ripped the brown paper off, and saw the beautiful dress inside, I doubted that life, at that moment, could be any sweeter. To this day, several of my paintings have little girls with the blue dress on.

I wore that dress until it no longer fit. Then, you guessed it, number ten , my little sister laid claim to it. I think she loved it as much as I did.

What joy the simple things in life can bring.

Author Notes

This is a true story.

Chapter 22
Instructions please

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

I recently read a short poem written by another Fanstorian and thought about all the ways that particular little poem could apply. The gist of it was,read the instructions before attempting assembly.

Sometimes it is difficult to teach or give an example of the importance of studying the Word of God. I have a little story to share which might make it a bit easier.

A couple bought a Tricycle and decided they knew exactly how to put that thing together. They got out the 'nuts and bolts', the pedals and handle bars, and all the various other parts. After hours of working, getting upset and totally frustrated, they were about to give up on the whole thing. They had never looked at the Instruction sheet which had been provided. Once they read and followed those instructions, the Trike went together perfectly, it turned out fine.

Our life is kind of like that. When we get to thinking we can 'do it our way' without any help from God, we make a mess out of things. Sometimes, just like that Tricycle, we must take it all apart and start completely over. We finally turn to the written word for instructions. Then we can get on with building our life according to His will, according to His Word.

My husband had a poster in his teenager's class which read:
B asic
I nstructions
B efore
L eaving
E arth

I always liked it.

Have you read the 'Good Book' lately ? The author is the most 'Creative Writer' I have ever had the pleasure to know. Absolutely inspiring, good for the Soul.

Love, :-) Carolyn

Author Notes

Thanks to VisionaryPerspective for the use of this awesome picture. I hope you enjoy this, it is not meant to be 'preachy' but 'practical'. :-) Carolyn

Chapter 23
Arizona Bound

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

Hi there everyone,

Larry and I are on our way to Phoenix to visit his elderly parents, a son and two granddaughters, and will be there through the end of the year. We opted to drive. Here I am in a hotel in Oklahoma, trying desperately to catch up on reviews. It is obviously not going to happen tonight. LOL

I hope and pray that each of you are having a great Holiday Season and that you and your families are healthy and happy. That may not seem much of a prayer, or a wish, or a hope to some, but to others, maybe it will bring a warm moment, knowing that someone is thinking about them with love. Someone is praying that the health they have not had in 2013 will be greatly improved in the New Year to come. Please rest assured that I am, keeping you in my heart, dwelling in my mind, and living in my prayers. Lord willing, I will never be too busy to think on things that matter the most in life. The souls and well being of family and friends.

Don't forget to do those 'random acts of kindness' to strangers as well as folks you know. It is fun to make them a part of every day.

Take care and I hope to work a little each evening. Until next time,
Love and Best wishes to all.
:-) Carolyn

Chapter 24
I sparkle for you

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

Hi there,

It has been almost a year since I joined this wonderful, International, writing site, called Fanstory. The experience has been so much more than I could have ever imagined. I had high hopes of posting, getting feed-back from my peers, and if all went as planned, I would improve somewhat in my skills as a writer. The support and encouragement you have extended to me, has been, and is, overwhelming. Never did I dream I would fall in love. You have made my eyes sparkle!

With the anniversary coming up, (and a little nudge from misscookie) I decided it was time to be brave, and post a picture of myself. It was taken this summer at an outdoor wedding. I hope you enjoy me, as much as I enjoy you. It has been a delight to visualize dear Maureen in Canada, Shari in Florida, Ritchie in Asia, Sagnik in India, and our sweet Evelyn in Arkansas, and so many others. So go ahead, take the plunge, 'post the pic', it is liberating!

My Dad used to tell me that my eyes were like mirrors to my soul. If that is true, then look into them, even though they are now behind glasses. (The better to see you with, of course.) When I think of lovely things, favorite things, mittens, kittens, jam, oh well, you know the song, then I sparkle.

When I think of children, God's love, rainbows and friendship, mud puddles and dandelions, I sparkle. When I feel a hug from a loved one or a friend, or give one to someone I don't know, but looks like they could use one, I sparkle. Family dinners, grandparent days, band concerts and choral festivals, smell of new babies, all those events make me sparkle. And when I read and review the written word of so many of you, I glow. It doesn't take a lot to make me happy as that is my general nature anyway. My little grand-daughter Faith asked me once, "GeGe, do you smile all of the time?" I had to admit, most of the time I do.

I love all of you, in one way or another. Some are beloved critics, some are all that and much more, all are valued to me. We are family.


What makes you sparkle?


Best regards, lots of love, and blessings to all of you,
:-) Carolyn AKA notesandmore

Chapter 25
The question of Faith

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

We heard a loud knocking on the door and PaPa said, "were we expecting Faith today?"

You see Faith has her own special little knock, she definitely wants us to know she has arrived. First she bangs on the door, then she rings the doorbell intermittently until someone opens it. There is no doubt who will be there when we open the door.

On this particular day, I ran to the door, "Just a minute", I said, and proceeded to open it and play the usual game of looking for Faith. This was not the day to be looking over her head, saying "I don't see anyone, I wonder who could have been ringing my doorbell? " And then she will say, "GeGe, I am down here, its' me Faith!" Well, not today, I got no hug, no hello, nothing, except, "Where is my PaPa, I have to talk to him, right now. "

I stepped aside of this possible little stampede and told her, "In the kitchen, PaPa is in the kitchen."

Faith, her mommy and I went into the kitchen where PaPa had already reached out his arms for the hug he was sure would follow. But, not today, no hug, no hello. She placed one hand on each of PaPa's arms and looking up into his face said, "PaPa, can I ask you a question? It is very serious."

PaPa said, "Of course Faith, you can ask me anything, anytime."

She said, "PaPa, I have just been thinking, you told me that God can see everything, right?"

PaPa answered, "that's right Faith, God can see everything."

Faith then said, "PaPa, what I want to know then, if God can see everything, how does He do it PaPa? Does He use a telescope?"

I wish you could have been here as PaPa tried to explain that one to his little five year old grand-daughter.

Author Notes

Thanks to wrekless for the wonderful picture. I hope you enjoy reading this little update on Faith. She is a little character. And as she is so willing to tell you, "Smart, too".

Chapter 26
Biker Babe and Her Man

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

"Hey honey, it's a beautiful day out, do you want to go for a ride?"


"That sounds great, can you give me a minute, I need to re-dress", I said.

"Sure, but hurry, we will make it to Hermann for lunch if we ride hard", my husband Larry hollered back from the garage.

It wasn't long before Larry had wheeled our motorcycle out of the garage. I fastened up my 'fanny pack', having made sure all the essentials were in it. Money for lunch and gas, the garage door opener, our Insurance cards, and of course, a comb and one of my most complementary lipsticks.

Larry was astride the bike and looked to be his old comfortable self. He had ridden for years and had even raced a bit in his younger life. I, on the other hand was rather a novice, but a willing one to be sure. I swung my leg over to mount the bike, (that had taken a lot of practice to develop that smooth move)and congratulated myself for not stumbling. Actually, I think I might have felt a slight twinge of smugness.

I am not sure why riders choose black attire, except that it just looks good. As we donned our matching, candy apple red helmets, we looked at each other and gave an admiring nod. Since we were 'all covered up', we for sure, did not show our age. I put my gloved hands on Larry's sides and smiled inside my 'full-faced' helmet as I settled down behind my man.

We took the back roads and marveled at the early fall colors of the trees, the rolling pasture lands, and the huge round bales of hay that graced the fields. Cows and horses were grazing, and we were lucky to spot several deer at the edge of the woods. A wild turkey crossed the road so close, we had to swerve the bike to miss it. Larry was a good 'swerve-er', remember, he used to race.

It took about an hour of wonderful riding to get out to Hermann. The Vintage restaurant there has the most delicious German food this side of the Missouri river.

As we circled the lot to find a good spot to park, several people were admiring the bike as they stood on the veranda of the restaurant.

We took off our helmets and gloves, combed our hair, and I, of course had to freshen my lipstick. We dismounted, turned around and began walking toward the entry.

All at once there arose such applause and cheers you would have enjoyed it yourselves. "Good for you," they were saying, and "Great, don't ever get to old to have fun", "Nice bike, good going", and such like comments.

As we turned around to thank every one, with my helmet under my left arm, I raised my right arm high in the air and shouted, as if stumping at a political rally,

"MORE GRANNIES SHOULD BE BIKER BABES."


When making memories, make the kind you would like to keep.

Author Notes

Thanks to Sierra Treasures for the wonderful picture, now this could have been Larry years ago. He is not so daring now. I hope you enjoy this true little memory. We certainly enjoyed participating in the making of it. :-) Carolyn

Chapter 27
Papa's squeaky chair

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

Papa loves Faith. They definitely have a special relationship. Faith will end up in the house wherever her Papa is. Be it watching television on his lap or in his office playing on the floor with her favorite 'Interactive Penguin', which yes, you probably guessed, Papa bought for her.

Faith's Mommy had told us that she and Daddy had been trying to teach Faith, and her brother Kohlton, that while passing gas is normal, it is just not something you talk about or laugh at, if some one does it. They felt they were having some measure of success.

Well, on this particular day, Faith was playing with her Penguin in Papa's office. Papa was at the computer working on a sermon. She was being very quiet and was contented to be there together, as was he.

Papa turned his chair and it let out a loud sound, about like, 'you know what' that word we don't say now in public.

Papa said later, as he couldn't contain his laughter, he heard Faith say very quietly, and without missing a beat in her play, "I sure hope my Penguin don't smell that".

What a little character and such a joy.

Author Notes

Stories like this are repeated often and we never get tired of sharing them. Now you on the other hand....... might get tired of .... Naw, if you're a grandparent, not a chance. :-) Carolyn

Chapter 28
Kindergarten with Faith

By Carolyn 'Deaton' Stephens

"Teacher, teacher, excuse me, teacher, "

"Yes Faith what can I help you with".

"Can I ask you a question Teacher?"

"Well of course Faith, out with it," said Teacher with a smile.

"I just want to know why we can't play on the Monkey Bars when we go out on the playground, like all the other kids do? We only get to watch. That's no fun", said Faith.

Teacher thought for a moment and said, "Well, it may be a safety issue because Kindergartner's are so small". You will get to play on them next year".

"But Teacher, you call us your 'little monkeys' so I just wondered why your 'little monkeys' can't play on the monkey bars".

Teacher stood there a minute, looking into those big brown eyes, and replied, "Faith, I guess we are just going to have to re-think that one".


It is really hard to get anything over on Faith.

Author Notes

Another fun little story about Faith in kindergarten. She is a hoot. I hope you enjoy this one. If you have grandchildren stories to share I encourage them. It is great to get to know one another in this way. Carolyn

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