Angel in the Alley
Angel in the Alley is an endearing story of fur and friendship. It follows the journey of a precocious feline with an affinity for big words and an enthusiastic puppy as they search for the meaning of family…. With a little help from an angel along the way. This title can be customized for use as a fundraiser for different communities and/or animal rescue organizations.
Excerpt:
Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, there thrived a beautiful burg called Bartlesville. Born of oil and proud heritage, its streets adamantly echoed the voices of its past and reverberated with the laughter of children who would shape its future. It was home to many… many ideas, many legacies, many families.
One of that “many” just happened to be a savvy cat (although he preferred “feline,” because it sounded more official—and he really enjoyed big words). He lived on the streets of Bartlesville. By “streets,” know that his territory mostly consisted of Johnstone Avenue, and a little bit of Dewey…. Venturing much further than that made him feel uneasy.
You can image his surprise then, when one drizzly day, he awoke from a nap to the sound of whimpering coming from the neighboring 6. Cautiously, the cat peeked around the edge. To his relief (and slight annoyance) he found a soaked and shivering puppy.
“Pardon me,” said the cat in a tone that he hoped sounded authoritative, “but what are you and what are you doing here? This is my spot.”
Bridgette O’Fidget and the Super Still Day
Bridgette O’Fidget was a small, busy girl. With the help of her family and tremendous wit, she learns the power of independence and imagination.
Excerpt:
Bridgette O’Fidget was a girl.
Bridgette O’Fidget was a small, VERY busy girl.
Bridgette O’Fidget was a small, VERY busy girl who never enjoyed being still.
Bridgette O’Fidget had hundreds of things to do.
Bridgette liked to run.
Bridgette liked to run and play.
Bridgette liked to run and play and swing and kick off her covers at naptime – as much as possible.
Most especially, Bridgette O’Fidget liked to find clues and solve important mysteries.
Then one day…
Bridgette O’Fidget discovered something.
Bridgette O’Fidget discovered something unusual.
Bridgette O’Fidget discovered something unusual and unsettling.
Bridgette O’Fidget discovered a day that was still.
Freedom’s Heart
This story is layered and subtly ethereal story for children and their parents that emphasizes the concept of patriotism as well as discovering the history within one’s own family. It takes place in rural Arkansas. The character of Hannah has the opportunity to meet her great-grandfather who was a decorated soldier of the Greatest Generation. After their conversation, and receiving a very special gift, Hannah is determined to go forth with more appreciation for her personal freedoms.
Excerpt:
She and Mom took a drive to see what they could see.
They left their house and drove for miles—they both felt so free.
Hannah felt tingles of discovery in the air…
She knew that Mom planned their trips when she had something to share….
“Hannah, this is my grandpa—and that means he’s yours too! I knew he would enjoy getting to visit with you.”
His hands reached out, and he squeezed her cheeks with a delighted grin. “Well, look at that—her momma’s eyes and a dimple in her chin!”
As he and Mom settled in to chat, Hannah sat down at his feet.
She knew right away that he was special … his friendship couldn’t be beat…
She saw a chain around his neck and asked him what it was. He paused. “In a war, we wear them. Well … we wear them just because.
They’re called dog tags and are complete with a name and rank. In World War II, you see, I became a gunner in a tank.”
She pondered this … “What does ‘war’ mean?” He said, “What does it mean, indeed! I hope you never have to find out, child. May your path be sweet and mild.
To me, war meant that a country boy became his country’s man. We trained, then crossed an ocean to fight for our Uncle Sam….”
Mountain Woods
Mountain Woods richly descriptive narrative about a family and their connection to some favorite (and opinionated) mountain peaks in the Colorado Rockies.
Excerpt:
Two Mountains, embraced by dense forests and flanked by angels, looked down at a little red house with a green roof. It was cozy… hugged by hills and skirted, as it was, by a rapid stretch of sparkling river. The Mountains could hear the varied but steady “ding, ding, dong, ding” of the front-porch windchime even from their lofty height. Of everything in the valley, this place (and its family) had always been their favorite.
“You know,” said the slightly taller mountain to the other, “those rapids in the river there are called The Tincups.”
“I did, indeed,” said the other mountain, sniffing – for the two grand Mountains were twin Sisters who were very competitive and who fancied themselves experts on just about everything.
“Look, here comes its family now… I’d know their excitement anywhere.”
Down the long driveway, a car slowly bounced (bounced because the way was perpetually strewn with large, round, beautiful rocks; these were the Rocky Mountains, after all). Simultaneously, car windows all were rolled down.
“You know, they always roll the windows down when they arrive,” commented the first Mountain to the other, “because the man’s daughter loves how we Mountains smell…. She calls us “her Mountains.’”
“She does, indeed… and she has always said we feel like ‘home,’” added the second Mountain with a proud and nostalgic sniffle. “She feels very close to God here.”
“Well, it’s no wonder — we are close to God,” said the first Mountain, as she eyed His busy angels, intent on their work.
As they paused in their commentary, the man, his wife, and his daughter got out of the car and stretched their legs. It had been a long, long drive. Sure enough, the daughter (who, although petite, was not a child anymore, the Mountains noted), familiarly flung back her arms and breathed, “hello, my Mountains—I have missed you!” The Mountains, gratified, nodded to each other with knowing smiles, thus satisfied with their collective knowledge and approval of this family. But then to their surprise, a little voice called from the car, “Who ya talking to, Mommy?”
Startled by this new development, the Mountains squinted for a glimpse and talked amongst themselves, although the family only heard the distant rumble of an afternoon mountain cloudburst. The family paused, though, and smiled knowingly at each other, similarly satisfied by their knowledge and approval of these Mountains.
Snow Cones in Heaven
Understanding Heaven is difficult for any of us to truly comprehend, but explaining it to a small child can be tough. In this story, this is a mother’s attempt to explain the concept of Heaven to her thoughtful, old-souled toddler who is always searching for answers as she contemplates her own angels.
Excerpt:
Hannah and Mom were ready for bed,
Just settling down, when sweet Hannah said:
“What will it be like when you and me
Go live with Jesus, and when will that be?”
Mom didn’t think twice before she replied,
“It will be nice!” But Hannah just sighed.
Hannah looked up as if she could see
What Heaven was like and how it would be.
To Mom’s surprise, little eyes filled with tears,
And she whispered so low, with something like fear:
“I don’t want to go and be by myself… with no books to read and nobody else.
I’m afraid I’ll be lonely and sad, don’t you see?
Why can’t we stay home, just you and me?
Mom thought, “What have I done that Heaven seems so bleak?”
She said a small prayer, then started to speak.
“Oh baby, no mind can know and no eye has seen
The wonderful place that Heaven must be.
Let me see if I can tell in your terms
Of our home with Jesus that faith affirms…
The House on Old Nakomis
This personal tribute is to one of the author’s most significant influences, Marshall Grant. Marshall was the base player for The Tennessee Three (Johnny Cash’s first band). He had an amazing life journey and played an important and steadfastly moral role in the Memphis rockabilly music scene in the 1950’s. He played an even more important and steadfast role in the author’s life; he was her “Uncle Marshall” who always managed to cultivate the very best in her. His influences are resonate universally.
Excerpt:
Hannah and Mom took a trip to Memphis, Tennessee.
It was fun; the world was new since she was only three.
They saw the sights, then took a walk down Nakomis Avenue.
Hannah liked that street. It had big trees and she liked the pretty view.
As they went, she saw a man upon his front porch swing.
He watched them stroll then, with a wave, he softly started to sing.
She didn’t know all the words, but knew she’d never tire,
To hear the gentleman fondly chant about a ring of fire.
Hannah eyed this stranger carefully and gave him a long study.
He reached out to hug her mom and said, “hey there, little buddy.”
“Hannah, this is Marshall Grant. Marshall, here’s my baby. I was just saying how special you are.”
He drawled, “Well, come here, little lady.”
She considered his tall frame and the cross upon his chest,
Then decided to climb up on his knee to take a little rest.
Let me share some stories, girl, if you have the time,
There are some things I’ve surely learned in this ole’ life of mine.”
I came to town, a poor boy, and learned to fix cars.
I met some friends who liked to sing, so I played bass guitar.”
He tapped his fingers—boom-chicka-boom—and said with a grin,
“We had this sound all along, and it started way back then.”
“Though I’ve seen a lot of fame, that’s not important at all you see.
Life’s about love and friends and roots – At least it is to me.
Be careful who you choose to trust, always be discerning.
Real friends will come back again. They won’t leave your heart yearning.”
See, I’ve met a lot of folks, but very few true friends.
The ones who are, are with me now, and will be ‘til the end…”
Polly Pearl, Pirate Girl
Excerpt:
Polly Pearl, Pirate Girl was as keen as she could be.
When bound to land, she longed to sail; her true love was the sea.
… “I’ll be back, ye scurvy dogs,” Polly growled to the enemy ship.
She turned to go, crew in hand, and then begin to skip.
So much freedom and such a heart in one truly inspired girl…
Her world was an oyster, and Polly herself was the pearl.