|Amber Inman (#47495448)|
| || member for 4 years, 5 days|
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|My name is Amber Inman.. i want to say a word or 2..my hero is M.S Young he was one of the best man i knew...He always done everything he could for his family and i wouldnt have traded him for the world..I love and miss you papaw more then anything...I know i wouldnt be who i am today without your help in raising me just like mamaw,mom, and dad...That's basically everything ive got to say..You were the kind of papaw any one would ever want i thank GOD you were mine.|
|Messages left for Amber Inman (9)||[Leave Message]|
|Star Kline||Glen & Vaselo Kline|
Thank you for visiting my parents, and for leaving tokens for other family members as well. I appreciate your kindness.
Thank you very much for the visit to little Madison Treece for her birthday. It made her day very special! May God bless and keep you and your family always...Love & Prayers...Roxed & Kinley...
|Broken~★~Heart||I Lke it you will to|
May you be blessed knowing you have given your angel happiness and love. I hope one of these lovely poems gives you comfort... Take care from the Selwyn Family xx I felt an angel. I felt an angel near today, though one I could not see, I felt an angel oh so close, sent to comfort me, I felt an angel's kiss, soft upon my cheek, And oh, without a single word of caring did it speak. I felt an angel's loving touch, soft upon my heart, And with that touch, I felt the pain and hurt within depart. I felt an angel's tepid tears, fall softly next to mine. And knew that as those tears did dry a new day would be mine. I felt an angel's silken wings enfold me with pure love, And felt a strength within me grow, a strength sent from above. I felt an angel oh so close, though one I could not seeI felt an angel near today, sent to comfort me.Anonymous If only. If only we could see the splendour of the land, To which our loved ones are called from you and me, We'd understand,If only we could hear the welcome they receive. From old familiar voices all so dear. We would not grieve. If only we could know the reason why they went. We'd smile and wipe away the tears that flow, And wait content.Anonymous I If I should never see the moon again. If I should never see the moon again, Rising red gold across the harvest field, Or feel the stinging soft rain, As the brown earth her treasures yield.If I should never taste the salt sea spray. As the ship beats her course across the breeze.Or smell the dog-rose and new-mown hay,or moss or primroses beneath the tree.If I should never hear the thrushes wake, Long before the sunrise in the glimmering dawn.Or watch the huge Atlantic rollers break Against the rugged cliffs in baffling scorn.If I have to say good bye to stream and wood,To wide ocean and the green clad hill,I know that he, who made this world so good, Has somewhere made a heaven better still.This bears witness with my latest breath, Knowing the love of God,I fear no death.Major Malcolm Boyd, killed in action in France, June 1944. If roses grow in heaven. If roses grow in heaven,Lord pleae pick a bunch for me,Place them in my Mother's arms and tell her they're from me.Tell her I love her and miss her,and when she turns to smile,place a kiss upon her cheek and hold her for awhile.Because remembering her is easy,I do it every day,but there's an ache within my heart that will never go away.Anonymous. He is not lost our dearest love, He is not lost our dearest love,Nor has he travelled far,Just stepped inside home's loveliest room. And left the door ajar.Anonymous. Peace My heart:Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.Let it not be a death but completeness.Let love melt into memory and pain into songs. Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light your way.Rabindranath Tagore, Bengali poet and philosopher (1861 - 1941)Silent tearEach night we shed a silent tear, As we speak to you in prayer.To let you know we love you, And just how much we care.Take our million teardrops, Wrap them up in love,Then ask the wind to carry them, To you in heaven above.Unknown
I LIKE THIS!Death is nothing at all…I have only slipped away into the next room…I am I and you are you…Whatever we were to each other…That we are still…Call me by my old familiar name…Speak to me in the easy way you always used…Put no difference into your tone…Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow…Laugh as we always laughed…At the little jokes we always enjoyed together…Play, smile, think of me, pray for me…Let my name be ever the household word that it always was…Let it be spoken without effort…Without the ghost of a shadow in it…Life means all that it ever meant…It is the same as it ever was…There is absolute unbroken continuity…What is death but a negligible accident?…Why should I be out of mind…Because I am out of sight?…I am waiting for you for an interval…Somewhere very near…Just around the corner…All is well….Nothing is past; nothing is lost…One brief moment and all will be as it was before… How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!…~by Canon Henry Scott-Holland-Canon of St Paul's Cathedral, "The King of Terrors", a sermon on death delivered in St Paul's Cathedral on Whitsunday 1910, while the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster: published in Facts of the Faith, 1919~
|Broken~★~Heart||See -See i|
That is (TRUE) GOT IT
This is so ture/I FOR ONECranky Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!
|Broken~★~Heart||Amber.. Hope you like this.|
A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.
"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."
"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."
Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we.
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."
"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."
"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side.
"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.
"And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.
"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.
"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.
"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."
"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."
"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
- WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38 when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.they could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.they were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say.they remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day."where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse."this is heaven." declared a small boy. "we're spending Christmas at God's house."when what to their wondering eyes did appear,but Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.then He opened His arms and He called them by name.and in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bringthose children all flew into the arms of their Kingand as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,one small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face.and as if He could read all the questions she hadHe gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of mom and dad."then He looked down on earth, the world far belowHe saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woethen He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!""may this country be delivered from the hands of fools""I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!"then He and the children stood up without a sound."come now my children, let me show you around."excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.all displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.and I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,"in the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHTFound on Facebookauthor is unknown to me
Added: Dec. 18, 2012
|Beautiful Savior Is My Lord Jesus Christ||Hello Amber,|
Oops! Sorry about that previous entry. Just wanted to say thank you for visiting my memorials, it is so appreciated. God Bless you.
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